AWAY TO WESTMORLAND 63 



of those words last August at Milnthorpe. Those 

 Lancashire lads and lassies on their way to Lake- 

 land seemed to be rapidly re-acquiring the art 

 of smiling. Merry England was, I thought, 

 recovering itself. May the diagnosis be correct. 

 May it be richly confirmed, for ever and a day ! 



One feature will inevitably impress the visitor 

 to Milnthorpe and its neighbourhood. In the 

 church, as in the churches of Beetham where 

 the roses were rioting and of Heversham, was a 

 roll of honour, telling how the lads had squared 

 their shoulders, put on their packs, and gone 

 gone to the happy warriors' everlasting reward. 

 These three scrolls of history meet the eye 

 straightway, and compel, if not a military salute 

 (how reverent is that military salute given by 

 surviving comrades, who have been through the 

 fighting themselves), then a baring of the head, 

 or at all events an eloquent pause. In all my 

 wanderings in England I saw no tribute to the 

 beloved dead more beautifully paid. This simple 

 commemoration, majestic in its meaning, thus 

 carried out in the churchyards of three parish 

 churches, all within a radius of a few miles, must 

 help to impress the minds of generations to come. 

 ***** 



On the Bela the trout were rising. They were, 

 indeed. But that does not mean they found 

 their way into the creel. It was in the early part 

 of August, a 'time when trout are not responsive. 

 This does not necessarily imply that the Miln- 

 thorpe fish were sluggish. On the contrary, they 



