第35章

askedhimifheeverread。Hesaidhereadagreatdeal，especiallytheworksofHuwMorris，andthatreadingthemhadgivenhimaloveforthesightsofnature。Headdedthathisgreatestdelightwastocometotheplacewherehethenwasofanevening，andlookatthewatersandhills。Iaskedhimwhattradehewas。

"ThetradeofJoseph，"saidhe，smiling。"Saer。""Farewell，brother，"saidI；"Iamnotacarpenter，butlikeyouIreadtheworksofHuwMorrisandamoftheChurchofEngland。"Ithenshookhimbythehandanddeparted。

Ipassedavillagewithastupendousmountainjustbehindittothenorth，whichIwastoldwascalledMoelVrithortheparty—colouredmoel。Iwasnowdrawingneartothewesternendofthevalley。

Sceneryofthewildestandmostpicturesquedescriptionwasrifeandplentifultoadegree：hillswerehere，hillswerethere；sometallandsharp，othershugeandhumpy；hillswereoneveryside；

onlyaslightopeningtothewestseemedtopresentitself。"Whatavalley！"Iexclaimed。ButonpassingthroughtheopeningIfoundmyselfinanother，wilderandstranger，ifpossible。Fulltothewestwasalonghillrisingupliketheroofofabarn，anenormousroundhillonitsnorth—eastside，andonitssouth—eastthetailoftherangewhichIhadlonghadonmyleft—thereweretreesandgrovesandrunningwaters，butallindeepshadow，fornightwasnowcloseathand。

"Whatisthenameofthisplace？"Ishoutedtoamanonhorseback，whocamedashingthroughabrookwithawomaninaWelshdressbehindhim。

"AberCowarch，Saxon！"saidthemaninadeepgutturalvoice，andlashinghishorsedisappearedrapidlyinthenight。

"AberCywarch！"Icried，springinghalfayardintotheair。"Why，that’stheplacewhereEllisWynncomposedhisimmortal’SleepingBard，’thebookwhichItranslatedintheblesseddaysofmyyouth。

Oh，nowonderthatthe’SleepingBard’isawildandwondrouswork，seeingthatitwascomposedamidstthewildandwonderfulsceneswhichIherebehold。"

Iproceededonwardsupanascent；aftersometimeIcametoabridgeacrossastream，whichamantoldmewascalledAvonGerres。

ItrunsintotheDyfi，comingdownwitharushingsoundfromawildvaletothenorth—eastbetweenthehugebarn—likehillandMoelVrith。Thebarn—likehillIwasinformedwascalledPenDyn。I

soonreachedDinasMawddwy，whichstandsonthelowerpartofahighhillconnectedwiththePenDyn。Dinas，troughatonetimeaplaceofconsiderableimportance，ifwemayjudgefromitsname，whichsignifiesafortifiedcity，isatpresentlittlemorethanacollectionoffilthyhuts。Butthoughadirtysqualidplace，I

founditanythingbutsilentanddeserted。Fierce—looking，red—

hairedmen，whoseemedasiftheymightbedescendantsofthered—

hairedbandittiofold，werestaggeringabout，andsoundsofdrunkenrevelryechoedfromthehuts。IsubsequentlylearnedthatDinaswasthehead—quartersofminers，theneighbourhoodaboundingwithminesbothofleadandstone。Iwasgladtoleaveitbehindme。MallwydistothesouthofDinas—thewaytoitisbyaromanticgorgedownwhichflowstheRoyalDyfi。AsIproceededalongthisgorgethemoonrisingaboveMoelVrithilluminedmypath。Inabouthalf—an—hourIfoundmyselfbeforetheinnatMallwyd。

CHAPTERLXXV

InnatMallwyd—ADialogue—TheCumro。

IENTEREDtheinn，andseeingacomely—lookingdamselatthebar，I

toldherthatIwasinneedofsupperandabed。Sheconductedmeintoaneatsandedparlour，whereagoodfirewasblazing，andaskedmewhatIwouldhaveforsupper。"Whateveryoucanmostreadilyprovide，"saidI；"Iamnotparticular。"Themaidretired，andtakingoffmyhat，anddisencumberingmyselfofmysatchel，I

satdownbeforethefireandfellintoadoze，inwhichIdreamedofsomeofthewildscenesthroughwhichIhadlatelypassed。

IdozedanddozedtillIwasrousedbythemaidtouchingmeontheshoulderandtellingmethatsupperwasready。Igotupandperceivedthatduringmydozeshehadlaidtheclothandputsupperuponthetable。Itconsistedofbaconandeggs。DuringsupperI

hadsomeconversationwiththemaid。

MYSELF。—Areyouanativeofthisplace？

MAID。—Iamnot，sir；IcomefromDinas。

MYSELF。—Areyourparentsalive？

MAID。—Mymotherisalive，sir，butmyfatherisdead。

MYSELF。—Wheredoesyourmotherlive？

MAID。—AtDinas，sir。

MYSELF。—Howdoesshesupportherself？

MAID。—Bylettinglodgingstominers，sir。

MYSELF。—Aretheminersquietlodgers？

MAID。—Notalways，sir；sometimestheygetupatnightandfightwitheachother。

MYSELF。—Whatdoesyourmotherdoonthoseoccasions？

MAID。—Shedrawsthequiltoverherhead，andsaysherprayers，sir。

MYSELF。—Whydoesn’tshegetupandpartthem？

MAID。—Lestsheshouldgetapunchorathwackforhertrouble，sir。

MYSELF。—Ofwhatreligionaretheminers？

MAID。—TheyareMethodists，iftheyareanything；buttheydon’ttroubletheirheadsmuchaboutreligion。

MYSELF。—Ofwhatreligionareyou？

MAID。—IamoftheChurch，sir。

MYSELF。—DidyoualwaysbelongtotheChurch？

MAID。—Notalways。WhenIwasatDinasIusedtohearthepreacher，butsinceIhavebeenhereIhavelistenedtotheclergyman。

MYSELF。—Istheclergymanhereagoodman？

MAID。—Averygoodmanindeed，sir。Helivescloseby。ShallI

goandtellhimyouwanttospeaktohim？

MYSELF。—Ohdearme，no！Hecanemployhistimemuchmoreusefullythaninwaitinguponme。

AftersupperIsatquietforaboutanhour。Thenringingthebell，Iinquiredofthemaidwhethertherewasanewspaperinthehouse。

Shetoldmetherewasnot，butthatshethoughtshecouldprocuremeone。Inalittletimeshebroughtmeanewspaper，whichshesaidshehadborrowedattheparsonage。ItwastheCUMRO，anexcellentWelshjournalwrittenintheinterestoftheChurch。InperusingitscolumnsIpassedacoupleofhoursveryagreeably，andthenwenttobed。

CHAPTERLXXVI

MallwydanditsChurch—SonsofShoemakers—VillageInn—

Dottings。

THEnextdaywasthethirty—firstofOctober，andwasratherfinefortheseason。AsIdidnotintendtojourneyfartherthisdaythanMachynlleth，aprincipaltowninMontgomeryshire，distantonlytwelvemiles，IdidnotstartfromMallwydtilljustbeforenoon。

Mallwydisasmallbutprettyvillage。Thechurchisalongedificestandingonaslightelevationontheleftoftheroad。

ItspulpitisillustriousfromhavingformanyyearsbeenoccupiedbyoneoftheverycelebratedmenofWales，namelyDoctorJohnDavies，authorofthegreatWelshandLatindictionary，animperishablework。Animmenseyewtreegrowsinthechurchyard，andpartlyovershadowstheroadwithitsbranches。Theparsonagestandsaboutahundredyardstothesouthofthechurch，nearagroveoffirs。ThevillageisoverhungonthenorthbythemountainsoftheArranrange，fromwhichitisseparatedbythemurmuringDyfi。Tothesouthformanymilesthecountryisnotmountainous，butpresentsapleasantvarietyofhillanddale。

AfterleavingthevillagealittlewaybehindmeIturnedroundtotakealastviewofthewonderfulregionfromwhichIhademergedonthepreviousevening。Formingthetwosidesofthepassdownwhichcomes"theroyalriver"stoodtheDinasmountainandCefnCoch，thefirstontheleft，andtheotherontheright。Behind，formingthebackgroundofthepass，appearing，thoughnowsomemilesdistant，almostinmyproximity，stoodPenDyn。Thishillhasvariousnames，buttheonewhichIhavenotedhere，andwhichsignifiestheheadofaman，perhapsdescribesitbest。FromwhereIlookedatitonthatlastdayofOcto