. In the old paths: memories of literary pilgrimages . I daily look acrossthe Water of Leith to the Pentland Hills, while theriver at my gardens end flows on past Scotiascapital, only to rest when it reaches the waters of themisty Forth. But There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth to the south as well as to the north, and thus it wasduring a glorious September holiday that I feastedmy eyes every morning on the sunlit Chiltern HiUs ofBuckinghamshire beyond the tiny Thame that flowedso gently on to meet the greater river of a still greatercapital. From an old seventeenth-century f
. In the old paths: memories of literary pilgrimages . I daily look acrossthe Water of Leith to the Pentland Hills, while theriver at my gardens end flows on past Scotiascapital, only to rest when it reaches the waters of themisty Forth. But There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth to the south as well as to the north, and thus it wasduring a glorious September holiday that I feastedmy eyes every morning on the sunlit Chiltern HiUs ofBuckinghamshire beyond the tiny Thame that flowedso gently on to meet the greater river of a still greatercapital. From an old seventeenth-century farmhouse,around which the golden grain had been garnered, Irambled into a land of beech-crowned hills, storiedchurches, and ancient Elizabethan manor-houses. Justover yon sleepy down-like hills to the south-east, where IN ENGLANDS PENNSYLVANIA 39 at nightfall one can sometimes see the gleam of distantlamplit London, lies the Penn-land of England. Tome it has all the charm of an undiscovered countryover the hills and far away. For my Penn-land rambles. A CORNER OF PENN VILLAGE. I always started from Amersham, sometimes over thehiUs to Penn itself, now by way of Beaconsfield toStoke Pogis, or at another time by Chalfont St. Gilesto Jordans. Amersham, I may add, was practically 40 IN ENGLANDS PENNSYLVANIA more distant to me at my remote farmhouse among thehills than it is to the literary pilgrim who starts fromLondon. I have frequently praised the lanes of Hertfordshire,but they do not surpass those of South Buckingham-shire. The road from Amersham to Penn windsthrough beech woods, within which there are signs ofviolets and wood-sorrel, reminiscent of spring. Thedog-rose, the bracken, and the gorse are always present,and here and there clumps of pines add strength tothe character of the landscape. On the border of awood I passed the church of the village of Penn Street,a modern church with a steeple, unusual in a localitywhere square embattled towers are the rule. It is apicturesq
Size: 1576px × 1585px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublisherlondo, bookyear1913
