shivered at the waste desolation of the scenery, when you dropped
into these wooded 'bottoms' you were charmed with the nestling
shelter which they gave. But above and around these rare and fertile
vales there were moors for many a mile, here and there bleak enough,
with the red freestone cropping out above the scanty herbage; then,
perhaps, there was a brown tract of peat and bog, uncertain footing
for the pedestrian who tried to make a short cut to his destination;
then on the higher sandy soil there was the purple ling, or
commonest species of heather growing in beautiful wild luxuriance.
Tufts of fine elastic grass were occasionally to be found, on which
the little black-faced sheep browsed; but either the scanty food, or
their goat-like agility, kept them in a lean condition that did not
promise much for the butcher, nor yet was their wool of a quality
fine enough to make them profitable in that way to their owners. In
such districts there is little population at the present day; there
was much less in the last century, before agriculture was
sufficiently scientific to have a chance of contending with such
natural disqualifications as the moors presented, and when there
were no facilities of railroads to bring sportsmen from a distance
to enjoy the shooting season, and make an annual demand for
accommodation.

There were old stone halls in the valleys; there were bare
farmhouses to be seen on the moors at long distances apart, with
small stacks of coarse poor hay, and almost larger stacks of turf
for winter fuel in their farmyards. The cattle in the pasture fields
belonging to these farms looked half starved; but somehow there was
an odd, intelligent expression in their faces, as well as in those
of the black-visaged sheep, which is seldom seen in the placidly
stupid countenances of well-fed animals. All the fences were turf