The city of Wythburn stood in a narrow valley at the foot of Lauvellen, and at the head of Bracken Water. It was a little but populous village, inhabited chiefly by sheep farmers, whose flocks grazed on the neighboring hills. It contained rather less than a hundred houses, all deep thatched and thick walled. To the north lay the mere, a long and irregular water, which was belted across the middle by an old Roman bridge of bowlders. A bare pack-horse road wound its way on the west, and stretched out of sight to the north and ...
The city of Wythburn stood in a narrow valley at the foot of Lauvellen, and at the head of Bracken Water. It was a little but populous village, inhabited chiefly by sheep farmers, whose flocks grazed on the neighboring hills. It contained rather less than a hundred houses, all deep thatched and thick walled. To the north lay the mere, a long and irregular water, which was belted across the middle by an old Roman bridge of bowlders. A bare pack-horse road wound its way on the west, and stretched out of sight to the north and to the south. On this road, about half a mile within the southernmost extremity of Bracken Water, two hillocks met, leaving a natural opening between them and a path that went up to where the city stood. The dalesmen called the cleft between the hillocks the city gates; but why the gates and why the city none could rightly say. Folks had always given them these names. The wiser heads shook gravely as they told you that city should be sarnty, meaning the house by the causeway. The historians of the plain could say no more. They were rude sons and daughters of the hills who inhabited this mountain home two centuries ago. The country around them was alive with ghostly legend. They had seen the lights dance across Deer Garth Ghyll, and had heard the wail that came from Clark's Loup. They were not above trembling at the mention of these mysteries when the moon was flying across a darksome sky, when the wind moaned about the house, and they were gathered around the ingle nook. They had few channels of communication with the great world without. The pack-horse pedler was their swiftest newsman; the pedler on foot was their weekly budget. Five miles along the pack-horse road to the north stood their market town of Gaskarth, where they took their wool or the cloth they had woven from it. From the top of Lauvellen they could see the white sails of the ships that floated down the broad Solway. These were all but their only glimpses of the world beyond their mountains. It was a mysterious and fearsome world.
This undated book is from our pre ISBN stock and is therefore over 50 years old. It has a general appearance commensurate with its age including age effects to page edges, binding and boards. The dust jacket is missing. There are previous owner details inside the covers. GRADED COMMENSURATE WITH AGE OF BOOK. PLEASE BE AWARE THIS BOOK IS PRE 1965 AND THE GRADE WILL REFLECT ITS AGE. Usual signs of a well read book but good overall condition. May not look good on your bookcase after rea.
Good. B001NW6SAU Book is in good condition. Slight creasing present. Page discolouration present. Fingermarks present. Re-Read is a social enterprise-giving unloved books a new life. Our aim is to re-use, re-distribute or re-cycle books so that we reduce waste and make a difference to literacy, educational achievement or quality of life in our local area. All overseas shipping is by Air Mail.
Fair. No dust jacket. 1892. 305 pages. No dust jacket. Brown cloth with black lettering. Mild tanning and handling marks to pages, with foxing to the text block edge. Firm binding. Bumping to spine ends and corners with noticeable rubbing and scuffing along edges and over surfaces. World of Rare Books Item ref. 1500537304CJD (Use this ID when enquiring about this item. )
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