It was dark when we left the inn, and about a mile farther, on the Kendal road, we saw, apparently crossing the road, a large number of glowworms, which, owing to the darkness of the night, showed to the best advantage.  So numerous were they that we had great difficulty in getting over them, for we did not wish to crush any under our feet.  We had never seen more than two or three together before, so it was quite a novel sight for us to find so many in one place.  Presently we arrived at the entrance to a small village, where our attention was arrested by a great noise in a building a little distance from the road.  The sound of juvenile voices predominated, and as my brother was a great lover of children, and especially of girls, as illustrated by a remark he was partial to—­“Girls and flowers are the nicest things that heaven sends us”—­we must needs stop and see what was going on.  Climbing up some steps and passing under some trees, we found, as we had surmised, the village school.  After looking through the windows we entered the schoolroom, whereupon the noise immediately ceased.  We ascertained that it was the village choir awaiting the arrival of the schoolmistress to teach them the hymns to be sung in the church on the following Sunday.  My brother insisted that he had come to teach the choir that night, and went at once to the harmonium, which was unfortunately locked.  He said he would no doubt be able to go on without it, and, having arranged the choir in order, was just about to commence operations when who should come in but the schoolmistress herself, causing us to beat a rather hasty retreat.  We groped our way under the trees again and down the steps, and were quite surprised when suddenly we found ourselves close to a comfortable inn where we could be accommodated for the night.  After supper we retired to rest, wondering whether we were to pass the night in Lancashire or Westmorland, for we had no idea where we were, and, strange to say, we forgot to ask the name of the place when we left in the morning.

(Distance walked nineteen miles.)

Thursday, October 19th.

We left the inn at eight o’clock in the morning, but the weather still continued very rainy, and we had often to seek shelter on our way owing to the heavy showers.  Presently we came to a huge heap of charcoal, and were about to shelter near it when we were told that it was part of the gunpowder works in the rear, so we hurried away as fast as we could walk, for we did not relish the possibility of being blown into millions of atoms.  When we reached what we thought was a fairly safe distance, we took refuge in an outbuilding belonging to a small establishment for smelting iron, and here we were joined by another wayfarer, sheltering like ourselves from the rain, which was coming down in torrents.  He told us about the stonemason who had recently had the fortune left to him, but he said the amount mentioned in the newspaper was L40,000 and not L80,000, as we had been