"Where is he? why, there," said he, pointing to the man in grey -
"the greatest prydydd in tir Fon or the whole world."
"Tut, tut, hold your tongue," said the man in grey.
"Hold my tongue, myn Diawl, not I - I speak the truth," then
filling his glass he emptied it exclaiming, "I'll not hold, my
tongue. The greatest prydydd in the whole world."
"Then I have the honour to be seated with a bard of Anglesey?" said
I, addressing the man in grey.
"Tut, tut," said he of the grey suit.
"The greatest prydydd in the whole world," iterated he of the
bulged shoe, with a slight hiccup, as he again filled his glass.
"Then," said I, "I am truly fortunate."
"Sir," said the man in grey, "I had no intention of discovering
myself, but as my friend here has betrayed my secret, I confess
that I am a bard of Anglesey - my friend is an excellent individual
but indiscreet, highly indiscreet, as I have frequently told him,"
and here he looked most benignantly reproachful at him of the
tattered hat.
"The greatest prydydd," said the latter, "the greatest prydydd that
- " and leaving his sentence incomplete he drank off the ale which
he had poured into his glass.
"Well," said I, "I cannot sufficiently congratulate myself for
having met an Anglesey bard - no doubt a graduate one. Anglesey,
was always famous for graduate bards, for what says Black Robin?
