the northern extremity of the dale is a large cavern named the Foxholes. In some places, the path which winds along the margin of the river becomes so narrow that it is with difficulty the passenger can round the fantastic projections of rock which here and there threaten to impede his onward progress. So enchanted was I with Dove Dale, that I spent whole days in rambling about its wild scenery and fishing in its eddying streams, where I killed a fair number of trout. On two occasions, I was so fortunate as to witness a thunder-storm in the deep solitude of the dale, when the lurid glare of the forked lightning, the crashing and rattling of the thunder, as it boomed and echoed amongst the gigantic rocks, had a sublimity of effect which makes man indeed feel what an atom he is-his very nothingness.

June 11th: I again shouldered my pack, and walked from Thorpe to Bakewell-seventeen miles-over a hilly and, in some parts, barren country. On entering the town, my attention was arrested by the fine old church, which has the appearance of great antiquity. Arrived at this noted place for trout and fishermen-where, by the way, I have an idea there is a due proportion of Cockney sportsmen to be met with ; for I saw within a distance of two hundred yards about fifteen anglers whipping the river (which was clear as crystal), with a bright sun at their backs, that displayed to great advantage their lengthened figures upon the glassy stream; and hungry indeed must be the trout of the Wye, if he is caught after this fashion. About two-thirds of these indefatigable brothers of the angle were attended in a manner, which I presume is peculiar to Bakewell fishermen-viz., by a boy, with a landingnet in one hand and an umbrella in the other. I could not help regretting it did not rain at this critical juncture; as it must, I conceive, be very interesting to witness fly-fishing from under fifteen umbrellas in a row. Having made a hasty repast and ordered my bed, I walked over to Chatsworth, the magnificent seat of the Duke of Devonshire, distant from Bakewell about three miles. It is a princely mansion, but too well known to need any description from my pen. By the time I got back to my inn, and after the ever-refreshing cup of tea, and a short stroll round the old town, I retired early, to prepare for the fatigues of the morrow, having had a long day of it.

About six o'clock next morning I quitted Bakewell, in a drizzling rain, en route for Glossop, on the borders of Yorkshire, through Ashford, Bradlow (at which place I halted to breakfast), Bradlow Mires, Castleton (where I visited the celebrated Peak Cavern), Wash, New Smithy, Hayfield, Charles Town, and Glossop Dale-twenty-eight miles. This was rather a hard day's walking, and over a very hilly and uninteresting country the greater part of the distance. It was about 8 P.M. when I came to an anchor at a small, but comfortable inn at this town of manufacturers.

13th: started from Glossop, about five o'clock in the morning, for Holm

*The best sport I ever knew with a fly, under a bright sun and no wind, was in the first river between Gibraltar and Algeziras, where a brother officer and myself killed one day (if my memory serves me) three-and-twenty brace of fish, of the dace kind. But they showed poor sport; neither could we tell if they were good for the table, every fish being bad the morning following. Whether it was the heat of the sun (a thing more than probable), or the bumping against "Bully's" sides, as my friend and I jogged towards the rock on the pugnacious little grey, I cannot pretend to determine.

forth, through Wood-head and Holm-thirteen miles. During this day's walk, which was a short one, I halted for some hours at Wood-head, where I also breakfasted, in order to try a small stream, where I heard there were a good many trout. The day was wet, and the brook (for such it was) in rather a disturbed state; so, after fishing for three or four hours in a smart rain (but with a good Macintosh I defied the weather), I returned to my breakfasting quarter with only two or three brace of small fish in my bag; and again strapping on my knapsack, pursued my road to Holmforth, stopping at a little public-house to cook my trout for dinner; which, however, I had at first some little difficulty in coaxing the old woman to do, or rather, I should say, to allow me to do (for, after all, I did it myself); and while she set to work, after a dismal fashion, to "make a bit of fire," I went to the pump and busied myself in cleaning and preparing my fish, being hungry, and in no mind to wait till nightfall for this little bit of a friz; and had them bubbling in the enormous frying-pan (which, by the way, was nearly big enough to have fried a young whale) in double quick time, much to the amusement, I believe, of some half dozen by-standers, who doubtless took me for a discharged cook, travelling in search of a place. The trout and bad ale despatched, I paid my eightpence, and commenced the ascent of a desperately steep hill, nearly two miles in length, with a cold wind right ahead, and Scotch mist; in other words, such a rain as will pretty soon wet you to the skin.

Holmforth, which I reached soon after 6 P.M., is a dirty manufacturing town. I got in cold, and wet from the knees downwards; and finding no fire in any room in the house, save one of enormous dimensions in the kitchen, I took up a position "on the extreme right" (as a certain functionary used to say at guard mounting, in Dublin) of the high screen; and after a thorough good warming within and without, I turned into a bed that was none of the cleanest, and certainly not the most comfortable that I could have desired. I forget the name of the inn, but it was the largest (their charges included), and, by the same rule, the most uncomfortable I was in during the three months I travelled.

14th Fine morning. From Holmforth, which I quitted with right good will about 6 A.M., to Denham Gate-twenty-five miles and ahalf-by way of Meltham Chapel, Slangthwait Chapel, Stainland, Salterable, Halifax, and Hillingford, reaching the Bull, at Denham Gate, about five o'clock in the evening. Soon after quitting Holmforth in the morning, I met a weaver, with a roll of blue cloth, tied up in a handkerchief, under his arm. He stopped, and eyeing my pack, asked "what kind of wares I dealt in." "Oh! different things," I replied. "I carry tae sometimes; and I've got a little left now that I did not find sale for at Holm" (I had a quarter of a pound in my knapsack). "No?" said he; "why, did you try Mrs. Mathews, and Jacob Smalls and Isaac Martins ?" naming in the same breath half a dozen other little shopkeepers in the town I had just quitted. "Why, no, I didn't try them all, friend." Well, but ye say, lad, ye ha' got a little tae left. Now, I'm thinking I should somehow like to swap a bit of this here cloth, of my own weaving, for some tae;" at the same time displaying some capital broad-cloth, and descanting in lively terms on its excellence. I pretended to examine it within and without; holding it

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up to the light, and rubbing it between my thumb and finger; telling him that I should have liked very well to swap with him, but I just recollected I had only a small bit of tae left-not above a quarter of a pound-which I must keep as a sample for my customers where I was going to take orders; but when I came that road again, I should be glad to deal for some of his cloth, and enquired where he was to be heard of; and with a "Good day, friend," we parted; he wishing me "good luck with my tae," and I hoping he would find a customer for his broadcloth. At the Bull, at Denham Gate, the good housewife was very anxious to know "if I was not a land-measurer; because a many of them gentlemen (meaning railroad surveyors, I presume) had been round lately." I told her I was something in that line. Well now,

you know, I thought you was, by them sticks that you do carry with you." I found a very good billet at this place, and had an exceedingly clean and comfortable bed.

Left Denham Gate next morning at five o'clock, passing through Keighley, Steeton, Kildwick, Skipton, Gargrave, Conniston, and Hellifield, to Long Preston, where I arrived a little before 8 P.M. -twenty-seven miles-and some half dozen more than I felt inclined to walk; for there had been a good deal of rain in the course of the day, which made the roads very heavy; independent of which, the country I passed over was excessively hilly, which is the case throughout the whole West Riding of Yorkshire. I tried at two villages short of Long Preston to get a bed, but none to be had; and on my arrival at the last-named place, tolerably well tired, there appeared at first some little doubt as to whether or not I should be accommodated for the night. There was evidently something going on in the house, for they were all dressed in their best; but whether a wedding or a christening I can't pretend to determine. But whilst they were debating the matter of my having a bed, I chanced to hear that one of the fat landlady's fair daughters was very bad with a dreadful bad tooth-ache." I begged to be allowed to prescribe for the young lady. This was a lucky hit; for I scarce had time to feel her pulse and order laudanum on cotton to be applied to the tooth affected, a fomentation of hot camomile flowers, and a small dose of salts and senna in the morning, before a smart young lady received her mamma's directions to "put the gentleman in the parlour ;" and in a trice, tea, coffee, eggs, cakes, and half a dozen et-ceteras were at my command, on the little round table with a green baize cover; and they were all as civil as if I had been a gentleman's flunkey, come to order three gallons of strong beer, "to be sent up to the hall immegently," something having happened to the tap in the cellar. The evening meal despatched, I made particular enquiries after my patient; and with strict injunctions not to forget the salts and senna in the morning, I wished the party (who were loud in their thanks "for my great kindness") a "Good night," and presently turned into a comfortable bed, for once in my life thinking it a fortunate thing to have had the tooth-ache. During this day's walk I halted at "The Duke of Wellington," and breakfasted for sixpence; and whilst the good woman of the house was preparing my coffee, the following dialogue took place :

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Well, mistress, and what do you charge for breakfast ?'' "Why, I don't quite know: what is it your a' going to have?"