"In the heart of England, yere hanner; we have never been to the
Welsh chapels, for we know little of the language."
"Well, I am glad it didn't happen in Wales: I have rather a high
opinion of the Welsh Methodist. The worthiest creature I ever knew
was a Welsh Methodist. And now I must leave you and make the best
of my way to Chepstow."
"Can't yere hanner give me God before ye go?"
"I can give you half-a-crown to help you on your way to America."
"I want no half-crowns, yere hanner; but if ye would give me God
I'd bless ye."
"What do you mean by giving you God?"
"Putting Him in my heart by some good counsel which will guide me
through life."
"The only good counsel I can give you is to keep the commandments;
one of them it seems you have always kept. Follow the rest and you
can't go very wrong."
"I wish I knew them better than I do, yere hanner."
"Can't you read?"
"Oh no, yere hanner, I can't read, neither can Tourlough nor his
wife."
"Well, learn to read as soon as possible. When you have got to
America and settled down you will have time enough to learn to
read."
"Shall we be better, yere hanner, after we have learnt to read?"
"Let's hope you will."
"One of the things, yere hanner, that have made us stumble is that
some of the holy women, who have come to our tent and read the
Bible to us, have afterwards asked my aunt and me to tell them
their fortunes."
"If they have, the more shame for them, for they can have no
excuse. Well, whether you learn to read or not, still eschew
striopachas, don't steal, don't deceive, and worship God in spirit,
not in image. That's the best counsel I can give you."
"And very good counsel it is, yere hanner, and I will try to follow
it, and now, yere hanner, let us go our two ways."
We placed our glasses upon the bar and went out. In the middle of
the road we shook hands and parted, she going towards Newport and I
towards Chepstow. After walking a few yards I turned round and
looked after her. There she was in the damp lowering afternoon
wending her way slowly through mud and puddle, her upper form
huddled in the rough frieze mantle, and her coarse legs bare to the
top of the calves. "Surely," said I to myself, "there never was an
object less promising in appearance. Who would think that there
could be all the good sense and proper feeling in that uncouth girl
which there really is?"
CHAPTER CIX
Arrival at Chepstow - Stirring Lyric - Conclusion.
I PASSED through Caer Went, once an important Roman station, and
for a long time after the departure of the Romans a celebrated
British city, now a poor desolate place consisting of a few old-
fashioned houses and a strange-looking dilapidated church.
