Unformatted text preview: iful glowing waters. And in the valley itself the high straggled arches of the Cathe- dral, and the circle of stones, remote, and austere but plainly visible. Darkness or no darkness, we decided to press on. We lighted our 339 lanterns and went down through the scattered groves of trees, and into the grassy glen, and did not pitch camp till we had reached the rem- nants of the town, or more visibly, the village which had lingered on after it. Mary Beth was for pitching camp in the pagan stones. But the two Scotsmen refused. Indeed, they seemed outraged. "That's a fairy circle, madam," said one of them. "You wouldn't dare to do such a thing as camp there. The little people would take it very ill, believe me." "These Scots are as crazy as the Irish," said Mary Beth. "Why didn't we go on to Dublin if we wanted to hear about leprechauns?" Her words gave me a little thrill of fear. We were now deep in the broad glen. The village did not include one single stone left standing. Our tents, ou...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10