Next day he "went straight up the steep front of Saddleback by the central ridge to the summit. It is the finest thing I've yet seen, there being several bits of real crag-work, and a fine view at the top over the great plains of Penrith on one side, and the Cumberland hills, as a chain, on the other. Fine fresh wind blowing, and plenty of crows. Do you remember poor papa's favourite story about the Quaker whom the crows ate on Saddleback? There were some of the biggest and hoarsest-voiced ones about the cliff that I've ever had sympathetic croaks from;--and one on the top, or near it, so big that Downes and Crawley, having Austrian tendencies in politics, took it for a 'black eagle.' Downes went up capitally, though I couldn't get him down again, because he _would_ stop to gather ferns. However, we did it all and came down to Threlkeld--of the Bridal of Triermain, "'The King his way pursued By lonely Threlkeld's waste and wood,' "in good time for me to dress and, for a wonder, go out to dinner with Acland's friends the Butlers." As an episode in this visit to Keswick, ten days were given to the neighbourhood of Ambleside, "to show Downes Windermere." "Waterhead, Windermere, "_10th August, 1867, Evening_. "I was at Coniston to-day. Our old Waterhead Inn, where I was so happy playing in the boats, _exists_ no more.--Its place is grown over with smooth Park grass--the very site of it forgotten! and, a quarter of a mile down the lake, a vast hotel built in the railroad station style--making up, I suppose, its fifty or eighty beds, with coffee-room--smoking-room--and every pestilent and devilish Yankeeism that money can buy, or speculation plan.