I thought at first of walking up, but, having a value for my feet and not liking to misuse them, I mounted a pony and walked him.
"He was beautifully stupid, but I could not help thinking of Henry Colman, the agriculturist, who, when in England, went on a fox-hunt.

He said, 'Think of my poor wife's old husband leaping a fence!' "But I soon forgot any fear, for the pony needed nothing from me or the guide, but scrambled about any way he chose; and the scenery was charming, for although the mountains are not very high, they are thrown together very beautifully and remind me of those of the Hudson Highlands.

Then the little lakes were lovely, and occasionally we came to a tarn or pond, and exceedingly small waterfalls were rushing about everywhere, without any apparent object in view, but evidently looking for something.

And spite of the weatherwise head-waiter of the 'Salutation' and of him of Coniston Inn, the day was beautiful.

We had to give up the ponies when we were half a mile from the top, and clamber up ourselves.