Boarding schools -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Girls -- England -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
Miss Bowes and Miss Teddington, the partners who owned the school, had
been exceptionally fortunate in their choice of a house. If, as runs the
modern theory, beautiful surroundings in our early youth are of the
utmost importance in training our perceptions and aiding the growth of
our higher selves, then surely nowhere in the British Isles could a more
suitable setting have been found for a home of education. The long
terrace commanded a view of the whole of the Craigwen Valley, an expanse
of about sixteen miles. The river, like a silver ribbon, wound through
woods and marshland till it widened into a broad tidal estuary as it
neared the sea. The mountains, which rose tier after tier from the level
green meadows, had their lower slopes thickly clothed with pines and
larches; but where they towered above the level of a thousand feet the
forest growth gave way to gorse and bracken, and their jagged summits,
bare of all vegetation save a few clumps of coarse grass, showed a
splintered, weather-worn outline against the sky. Penllwyd, Penglaslyn,
and Glyder Garmon, those lofty peaks like three strong Welsh giants,
seemed to guard the entrance to the enchanted valley, and to keep it a
place apart, a last fortress of nature, a sanctuary for birds and
flowers, a paradise of green shade and leaping waters, and a
breathing-space for body and soul.
The house, named "The Woodlands" by Miss Bowes in place of its older but
rather unpronounceable name of Llwyngwrydd (the green grove), took both
its Welsh and English appellations from a beautiful glade, planted with
oaks, which formed the southern boundary of the property. Through this
park-like dell flowed a mountain stream, tumbling in little white
cascades between the big boulders that formed its bed, and pouring in
quite a waterfall over a ledge of rock into a wide pool. Its steady
rippling murmur never stopped, and could be heard day and night through
the ever-open windows, gentle and subdued in dry weather, but rising to
a roar when rain in the hills brought the flood down in a turbulent
torrent.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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