However, I am a
Saxon myself, and the Saxons have no doubt their virtues; a pity
that they should be all uncouth and ungracious ones!
I asked my kind host his name.
"John Jones," he replied, "Melinydd of Llanfair."
"Is the mill which you work your own property?" I inquired.
"No," he answered, "I rent it of a person who lives close by."
"And how happens it," said I, "that you speak no English?"
"How should it happen," said he, "that I should speak any? I have
never been far from here; my wife who has lived at service at
Liverpool can speak some."
"Can you read poetry?" said I.
"I can read the psalms and hymns that they sing at our chapel," he
replied.
"Then you are not of the Church?" said I.
"I am not," said the miller; "I am a Methodist."
"Can you read the poetry of Gronwy Owen?" said I.
"I cannot," said the miller, "that is with any comfort; his poetry
is in the ancient Welsh measures, which make poetry so difficult
that few can understand it."
"I can understand poetry in those measures," said I.
"And how much time did you spend," said the miller, "before you
could understand the poetry of the measures?"
"Three years," said I.
The miller laughed.
"I could not have afforded all that time," said he, "to study the
songs of Gronwy. However, it is well that some people should have
time to study them. He was a great poet as I have been told, and
is the glory of our land - but he was unfortunate; I have read his
life in Welsh and part of his letters; and in doing so have shed
tears."
"Has his house any particular name?" said I.
"It is called sometimes Ty Gronwy," said the miller; "but more
frequently Tafarn Goch."
"The Red Tavern?" said I. "How is it that so many of your places
are called Goch? there is Pentraeth Goch; there is Saint Pedair
Goch, and here at Llanfair is Tafarn Goch."
The miller laughed.
"It will take a wiser man than I," said he, "to answer that
question."
The repast over I rose up, gave my host thanks, and said, "I will
now leave you, and hunt up things connected with Gronwy."
"And where will you find a lletty for night, gentleman?" said the
miller's wife. "This is a poor place, but if you will make use of
our home you are welcome."
"I need not trouble you," said I, "I return this night to Pentraeth
Goch where I shall sleep."
"Well," said the miller, "whilst you are at Llanfair I will
accompany you about. Where shall we go to first?"
"Where is the church?" said I. "I should like to see the church
where Gronwy worshipped God as a boy."
"The church is at some distance," said the man; "it is past my
mill, and as I want to go to the mill for a moment, it will be
perhaps well to go and see the church, before we go to the house of
Gronwy."
I shook the miller's wife by the hand, patted a little yellow-
haired girl of about two years old on the head, who during the
whole time of the meal had sat on the slate floor looking up into
my face, and left the house with honest Jones.
