CLEAR WATERS 



walking, none further from railroads, none, but for 

 the motor curse, more unspoiled. Nor are any of 

 the other lakes to my thinking quite so satisfying as 

 Ullswater. It is, moreover, full of trout — but of this 

 with its reservations anon — and, unlike the other 

 large lakes, there are no other fish but trout in its 

 cold, limpid waters. Lastly, there is more fishing 

 of sorts in tarns and streams within a walk of the lake- 

 head than in the neighbourhood of any other Lakeland 

 centre. There is yet one more reason why this long 

 time I have always made straight for a certain hostelry 

 on the shores of Ullswater whenever I have had two 

 or three weeks to spare for this country. It is not 

 merely because there is meat, drink, and comfort of 

 the best all within a modest angler's compass, but 

 because my landlord is a very prince among landlords, 

 and even yet more that he embodies in his own person 

 and character the very essence and spirit of all that 

 entwines this country tighter and tighter round the 

 hearts of those who frequent it ; above all, for those 

 who go there in the quiet season, those glorious 

 days and nights of May and June. I hope I know, 

 and, knowing, duly revere my Wordsworth. But my 

 landlord is a better Lakelander all the same than 

 Wordsworth, if the suggestion is not too impious. 

 He is not, to be sure, a great poet, but he is a poet all 

 the same, like a great many other people, without 

 knowing it. He knows every hill, every bit of scree, 

 every glen, every ghyll, tarn, and brook, and the name 

 of every spot of earth that has a name between 

 Shap and Borrowdale, and could go almost blindfold 

 to every one of them. He knows, I think, every 

 248 



