We wander
through the hilly streets and gaze at the pretentious hotels, the
baths, the huge Kursaal, the hydropathic establishments, the smart
shops, and the many churches, and then, having seen enough of the
buildings, we find a seat supported by green serpents, from which to
watch the passers-by. A white-haired and withered man, having the stamp
of a military life in his still erect bearing, paces slowly by; then
come two elaborately dressed men of perhaps twenty-five. They wear
brown suits and patent boots, and their bowler hats are pressed down on
the backs of their heads. Then nursemaids with perambulators pass,
followed by a lady in expensive garments, who talks volubly to her two
pretty daughters. When we have tired of the pavements and the people,
we bid farewell to them without much regret, being in a mood for
simplicity and solitude, and go away towards Wharfedale with the
pleasant tune that a band was playing still to remind us for a time of
the scenes we have left behind.
CHAPTER XVI
WHARFEDALE
Otley is the first place we come to in the long and beautiful valley of
the Wharfe.
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