The best way to the valley on foot is to go over Kersal Moor, descending on the further side, and so onward, past the print-works, to Agecroft Bridge, which we must cross, and turn to the right. If more convenient, there is a way by Pendleton and Charlestown, crossing the Bolton railway, then along the path by the river-side. But this, as to its earlier part, is a disagreeable means of access, and very little is really gained. Going by Kersal, on the other hand, we come at once into a green, sequestered walk, which accompanying the river for about a mile, then changes to the bank of the canal, and will take us, if we please, to the aqueduct, and thence round by the cottages to the station. The road straight away from the bridge leads to Pendlebury, to which village there is also a pleasant path across the fields, after ascending the river-side some little distance. Keeping to the Kersal side of the river there is a delightful walk through Agecroft Park, beneath the woods, to the foot of the dells; another, by diverging a little to the left when out of the park, through a farmyard, to the river and viaduct; and if, instead of going through the park, we turn up on the right among the cottages, it is not difficult to penetrate the woods themselves, and to find one or two paths over the hills, all tending to Prestwich as a common point. So numerous and varied are the paths which converge hitherwards and in the direction of Clifton Aqueduct, that it is impossible to go wrong. Were we to give a preference, it would be to the walk first described, or that along the river-side, commencing at Agecroft Bridge, and having the river upon the right. The meadows abound with floral treasures, the rosy bistort, the blue geranium, and the fragrant ciceley, in their several seasons, and on the banks, at the further part, near the canal, may be seen the broad-leaved wood-stitchwort, _Stellaria memorum_, and the yellow dead-nettle. Early in June is the pleasantest time to go. The grass is then uncut, the sycamores are hung with their honeyed bloom, the clover glows like rubies, the white pagodas of the butter-bur, now gone to seed, stand up like the banners of an army, and we find "the _first_ rose of summer, sweet blooming alone," amid thousands of juvenile green buds.