The verses end with our breakfast at the Head of Yewdale, in a yeoman's house, which, like all the other property in that sequestered vale, has passed, or is passing, into the hands of Mr.James Marshall, of Monk Coniston, in Mr.
Knott's, the late owner's time, called Waterhead.

Our hostess married a Mr.Oldfield, a lieutenant in the navy; they lived together for some time at Hackett, where she still resides as his widow.

It was in front of that house, on the mountain-side, near which stood the peasant who, while we were passing at a distance, saluted us, waving a kerchief in his hand, as described in the poem.

The dog which we met soon after our starting, had belonged to Mr.Rowlandson, who for forty years was curate at Grasmere, in place of the rector, who lived to extreme old age, in a state of insanity.

Of this Mr.R.much might be said, both with reference to his character, and the way in which he was regarded by his parishioners.