"Is the ale so good at Rhiwabon," said I, "that you leave home for
it?"
"No," said he, rather shortly, "there's not a glass of good ale in
Rhiwabon."
"Then why do you go thither?" said I.
"Because a pint of bad liquor abroad is better than a quart of good
at home," said the landlord, reeling against the hedge.
"There are many in a higher station than you who act upon that
principle," thought I to myself as I passed on.
I soon reached Rhiwabon. There was a prodigious noise in the
public-houses as I passed through it. "Colliers carousing," said
I. "Well, I shall not go amongst them to preach temperance, though
perhaps in strict duty I ought." At the end of the town, instead
of taking the road on the left side of the church, I took that on
the right. It was not till I had proceeded nearly a mile that I
began to be apprehensive that I had mistaken the way. Hearing some
people coming towards me on the road I waited till they came up;
they proved to be a man and a woman. On my inquiring whether I was
right for Llangollen, the former told me that I was not, and in
order to get there it was necessary that I should return to
Rhiwabon. I instantly turned round. About half-way back I met a
man who asked me in English where I was hurrying to.