We rolled on through
Pendleton, where the country is still trying to look green here and
there, under increasing difficulties; but it was not till we came to
where the green vale of Clifton open out, that I became quite
reconciled to the weather. Before we were well out of sight of the
ancient tower of Prestwich Church, the day brightened a little. The
shifting folds of gloomy cloud began to glide asunder, and through
the gauzy veils which lingered in the interspaces, there came a dim
radiance which lighted up the rain-drops "lingering on the pointed
thorns;" and the tall meadow grasses were swaying to and fro with
their loads of liquid pearls, in courtesies full of exquisite grace,
as we whirled along. I enjoyed the ride that raw morning, although
the sky was all gloom again long before we came in sight of the
Ribble.
I met my friend, in Preston, at half-past nine; and we started at
once for another ramble amongst the poor, in a different part of
Trinity Ward. We went first to a little court, behind Bell Street.
There is only one house in the court, and it is known as "Th' Back
Heawse.
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