A Hertfordshire Valley. 9 



woman's tongue, had better give that lower region a very 

 wide berth. 



Ask the landlord of the inn how many drunken persons 

 he has rescued from a watery grave close to his stable door j 

 ask the coroner what a tale of dead is yielded every year 

 by the canal. And if you would learn further of the 

 morality, and ignorance, and habits of the barge people, 

 start straightway to the Paddington basin and make full in- 

 quiries. The condition of these hardworking men, women, 

 and children, for whom we should feel much pity, has been 

 improved, no doubt; but they are still deplorably benighted. 

 Whatever man may be, every prospect pleases. Follow 

 the Colne through the meadows, fight your way through the 

 myriads of gnats and midges that rise from the osier leaves : 

 mark the merry water-rat plunge from his niche in the 

 muddy bank, the water-wagtail rise from the island of weeds 

 in the middle of the stream, the reed-sparrow scared away 

 in momentary alarm, the dabchicks down the water which 

 will have disappeared long before you reach them, the deep 

 swims where the lazy roach keep company, the gravelly 

 scours and sandy shallows upon which the dace and chub 

 wait for the drifting insect, the bubbling weirs streaked with 

 effervescing water and flecked with spotless foam, the ford 

 leading to the village, the anglers' huts, the villagers' kitchen 

 gardens, the creeper-covered houses, the clean shaven lawns 

 of the gentry and the humble tenements of the poor, the 

 village on one side and on the other copses and rising 

 woods in which game find cover and romping children 

 gather flowers, blackberries, nuts, hips and haws, in their 

 respective seasons mark these as the surroundings of the 

 Colne as it winds through rich meadow-land to the Roaring 

 Ford, a little beyond which it once more finds an outlet into 

 the canal. 



