/0/1996/coverbig.jpg?v=19f9ad64fc7b9bee9f7d93e4403a8bd1)
Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,
And merrily bend the stile-a,
A merry heart goes all the day,
A sad one tires in a mile-a.
-Winter's Tale.
Let the reader conceive to himself a clear frosty November morning, the scene an open heath, having for the background that huge chain of mountains in which Skiddaw and Saddleback are preeminent