The village itself is not lacking in distinctive qualities, the juxtaposition of the antique and the modern in architecture being certainly very quaint. Its up-to-date and well-kept shops and hotels and general air of cleanliness, are features of the place. It is a favourite “excursion” centre and rightly so, for most of the outlying districts are within easy reach--a remark that applies also to Windermere village. They are now-a-days almost one town, although the nucleus of each is over a mile apart. Houses and shops line the connecting road,--a steady climb up the hill, almost continuously, to Windermere Railway Station. Above the station is the eminence of Orrest Head, one of the most excellent view-points in the whole of Lakeland. It was this prospect that inspired the words which introduce this chapter. Those who walk up Orrest Head on a fine summer’s day will certainly condone, and some will endorse, this description by Christopher North. The natives of Windermere are the direct descendants of those sturdy independent sons of the soil, the Westmerian statesmen. They perpetuate many of the best qualities of their forebears, and in spite of contact with a polyglot tourist element they also retain much of their original dialect. Only the other day I ventured to ask the opinion of one them regarding the weather. The old dalesman looked knowingly to windward and then delivered himself as follows: “Weel, it’ll mappen donk an’ dezzle a la’al bit, mappen kest a snifter, but there’ll be neah gurt pelt,” which was his way of saying that it would perhaps drizzle a bit, perhaps throw a shower, but there would be no great downpour!