I Thought Of The Beam And Mote Mentioned In Scripture, And Then
Cast A Glance Of Compassion On The Two Poor Young Women.
For a
moment I fancied myself in the times of Owen Glendower, and that I
saw two females, whom
His marauders had carried off from Cheshire
or Shropshire to toil and slave in the Welshery, walking together
after the labours of the day were done, and bemoaning their
misfortunes in their own homely English.
Shortly after leaving the village of the tollgate I came to a
beautiful valley. On my right hand was a river the farther bank of
which was fringed with trees; on my left was a gentle ascent, the
lower part of which was covered with rich grass, and the upper with
yellow luxuriant corn; a little farther on was a green grove,
behind which rose up a moel. A more bewitching scene I never
beheld. Ceres and Pan seemed in this place to have met to hold
their bridal. The sun now descending shone nobly upon the whole.
After staying for some time to gaze, I proceeded, and soon met
several carts, from the driver of one of which I learned that I was
yet three miles from Bala. I continued my way and came to a
bridge, a little way beyond which I overtook two men, one of whom,
an old fellow, held a very long whip in his hand, and the other, a
much younger man with a cap on his head, led a horse. When I came
up the old fellow took off his hat to me, and I forthwith entered
into conversation with him. I soon gathered from him that he was a
horsedealer from Bala, and that he had been out on the road with
his servant to break a horse. I astonished the old man with my
knowledge of Welsh and horses, and learned from him - for
conceiving I was one of the right sort, he was very communicative -
two or three curious particulars connected with the Welsh mode of
breaking horses. Discourse shortened the way to both of us, and we
were soon in Bala. In the middle of the town he pointed to a large
old-fashioned house on the right hand, at the bottom of a little
square, and said, "Your honour was just asking me about an inn.
That is the best inn in Wales, and if your honour is as good a
judge of an inn as of a horse, I think you will say so when you
leave it. Prydnawn da 'chwi!"
CHAPTER XLIX
Tom Jenkins - Ale of Bala - Sober Moments - Local Prejudices - The
States - Unprejudiced Man - Welsh Pensilvanian Settlers - Drapery
Line - Evening Saunter.
SCARCELY had I entered the door of the inn when a man presented
himself to me with a low bow. He was about fifty years of age,
somewhat above the middle size, and had grizzly hair and a dark,
freckled countenance, in which methought I saw a considerable dash
of humour.
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