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Fell Sketches 
   
  
THREE FELLS SKETCHES. 
   
  
BY WILLIAM T. PALMER. 
   
  
I. - THE FIGHTING SCHOOLMASTER. 
   
THE schoolhouse is situate some five miles from the  
rock-fringed bay into which the tiny stream descending the  
valley empties its waters. It is a grey-walled, mouldy, low  
building; from the plenteous smoke-marks, from the stones  
into which the tethering rings are still fastened, it may  
possibly at some time have been the blacksmith's shop of the 
dale. This is grand, primitive, peat-burning,  
superstition-reeking countryside. High, rocky mountains  
gather round its head, coppices hang among the scaurs and  
slacks, and deep beds of bracken and heather occupy the  
hillsides. 
  
I had been told that the place was worthy a visit, and after 
a long, rough tramp over screes and rocks, and by storm-rent 
ghylls, on an almost imperceptible path, I reached the  
valley-head. From the upper hillsides hardly a dwelling was  
visible, and for a time I wondered whether, in that sea of  
mountains, my route had brought me correctly. Then a  
farmhouse appeared amid a cluster of sycamores, and, as I  
came near, my inquiry was answered in the affirmative. "Yes, 
this was Mirdale." Among the trees, as I passed down the  
dale, appeared the tiny belfry of an ancient church, and  
close to it was the school. The buildings were bounded on  
three sides by a bend in the river, though they stood thirty 
feet above the water, commanding a grand view to seaward. 
  
"Where will I find Schoolmaster John?" I demanded from my  
host (for I had been advised to seek this man out to hear a  
strange story) 
  
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