"Is it?" said he; "well, if its name is scriptural the manners of
its people are by no means so."
A little way beyond the town a man came out of a cottage and walked
beside me. He had a basket in his hand. I quickened my pace; but
he was a tremendous walker, and kept up with me. On we went side
by side for more than a mile without speaking a word. At length,
putting out my legs in genuine Barclay fashion, I got before him
about ten yards, then turning round laughed and spoke to him in
English. He too laughed and spoke, but in Welsh. We now went on
like brothers, conversing, but always walking at great speed. I
learned from him that he was a market-gardener living at Bangor,
and that Bangor was three miles off. On the stars shining out we
began to talk about them.
Pointing to Charles's Wain I said, "A good star for travellers."
Whereupon pointing to the North star, he said:
"I forwyr da iawn - a good star for mariners."
We passed a large house on our left.
"Who lives there?" said I.
"Mr Smith," he replied. "It is called Plas Newydd; milltir genom
etto - we have yet another mile."
In ten minutes we were at Bangor. I asked him where the Albion
Hotel was.
"I will show it you," said he, and so he did.
As we came under it I heard the voice of my wife, for she, standing
on a balcony and distinguishing me by the lamplight, called out.
