Duck in Wales, sir, is not fare for poor weavers. This is
the first duck I ever tasted, and though I never taste another, as
I probably never shall, I may consider myself a fortunate weaver,
for I can now say I have tasted duck once in my life. Few weavers
in Wales are ever able to say as much."
CHAPTER XVI
Baptist Tomb-Stone - The Toll-Bar - Rebecca - The Guitar.
THE sun was fast declining as we left Ruthyn. We retraced our
steps across the fields. When we came to the Baptist Chapel I got
over the wall of the little yard to look at the grave-stones.
There were only three. The inscriptions upon them were all in
Welsh. The following stanza was on the stone of Jane, the daughter
of Elizabeth Williams, who died on the second of May, 1843:
"Er myn'd i'r oerllyd annedd
Dros dymher hir i orwedd,
Cwyd i'r lan o'r gwely bridd
Ac hyfryd fydd ei hagwedd."
which is
"Though thou art gone to dwelling cold
To lie in mould for many a year,
Thou shalt, at length, from earthy bed,
Uplift thy head to blissful sphere."
As we went along I stopped to gaze at a singular-looking hill
forming part of the mountain range on the east. I asked John Jones
what its name was, but he did not know. As we were standing
talking about it, a lady came up from the direction in which our
course lay. John Jones, touching his hat to her, said:
"Madam, this gwr boneddig wishes to know the name of that moel,
perhaps you can tell him."
"Its name is Moel Agrik," said the lady, addressing me in English.
"Does that mean Agricola's hill?" said I.
"It does," said she, "and there is a tradition that the Roman
General Agricola, when he invaded these parts, pitched his camp on
that moel. The hill is spoken of by Pennant."
"Thank you, madam," said I; "perhaps you can tell me the name of
the delightful grounds in which we stand, supposing they have a
name?"
"They are called Oaklands," said the lady.
"A very proper name," said I, "for there is plenty of oaks growing
about. But why are they called by a Saxon name, for Oaklands is
Saxon?"
"Because," said the lady, "when the grounds were first planted with
trees they belonged to an English family."
"Thank you," said I, and, taking off my hat, I departed with my
guide. I asked him her name, but he could not tell me. Before she
was out of sight, however, we met a labourer of whom John Jones
enquired her name.
"Her name is W-s," said the man, "and a good lady she is."
"Is she Welsh?" said I.
