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the summer residence of Lt. Col. Godfrey Rhodes and, 

 at Acomb Park, York, the leafy manor of Major Frank 

 Lees, late of the 25th Queen's Own Borderers. 



After leaving the train at Lakeside station (ISTewby 

 Bridge) at Windermere, anciently called Wynandermere, 

 the largest of those sheets of water, as Wordsworth has 

 it : 



li Wooded Winandermere, the river Lake," 



we ascended in the Eailway ferry steam launch, the 

 Queen of the Lake, to the fast expanding town of 

 Ambleside, once a Roman post ; Ambleside, the " village 

 of Pine Groves," I might add, from my own observa- 

 tion, of the rooks and roaring ghylls and waterfalls. 

 Swifty indeed did we sweep over Windermere's clear 

 cool, pellucid, th'o to the swimmer, treacherous waves ; 

 a portion of the trip, the mist descending from Lass- 

 wade and Helvellyn and other towering hills, drenched 

 us ; the remainder of the voyage, our tiny steamer, 

 was touched by the last jocund rays of the setting sun ; 

 soon we saw Loowood and Bowness Bay in their per- 

 ennial, sylvan beauty, doubtless, just as they were on 

 that serene morning of May, 1825, which witnessed 

 Canning's, Scott's, Southey's, Wordsworth's and Wil- 

 son's memorable regatta, under the guidance of the 

 " Admiral " Christopher North. By virtue of the 

 word-painting of that glorious old master, among the 

 fleet, graceful yatchs, furrowing the lake at sunset, I 

 almost fancied I could conjure before my mind's eye, 

 the Emma, the Nautilus, the Gazelle, the Osprey, the 

 Garnet and other " felicitous, white-winged creatures " 

 immortalised by the eloquent Professor on that auspi- 

 cious occasion. 



It was fresh from the enjoyment of this blithe, fairy 

 land, this dainty, lake scenery that the impressive spect- 

 acle and hallowed souvenirs of quaint, solemn, medieval 

 York came trooping on my eager gaze." 



