"And how came you, an Englishman, to know anything of Gronwy Owen?"
"I studied Welsh literature when young," said I, "and was much
struck with the verses of Gronwy: he was one of the great bards of
Wales, and certainly the most illustrious genius that Anglesey ever
produced."
"A great genius, I admit," said the man in grey, "but pardon me,
not exactly the greatest Ynis Fon has produced. The race of the
bards is not quite extinct in the island, sir. I could name one or
two - however, I leave others to do so - but I assure you the race
of bards is not quite extinct here."
"I am delighted to hear you say so," said I, "and make no doubt
that you speak correctly, for the Red Bard has said that Mona is
never to be without a poet - but where am I to find one? just
before I saw you I was wishing to see a poet; I would willingly
give a quart of ale to see a genuine Anglesey poet."
"You would, sir, would you?" said the man in grey, lifting his head
on high, and curling his upper lip.
"I would, indeed," said I, "my greatest desire at present is to see
an Anglesey poet, but where am I to find one?"
"Where is he to find one?" said he of the tattered hat; "where's
the gwr boneddig to find a prydydd?
