And If Pleasant
Recollections Do Not Haunt You Through Life Of The Noble Falls And
The Beautiful Wooded Dingles To
The west of the bridge of the Evil
One, and awful and mysterious ones of the monks' boiling cauldron,
the
Long, savage, shadowy cleft, and the grey, crumbling, spectral
bridge, I say boldly that you must be a very unpoetical person
indeed.
CHAPTER LXXXV
Dinner at the Hospice - Evening Gossip - A Day of Rain - A Scanty
Flock - The Bridge of the Minister - Legs in Danger.
I DINED in a parlour of the inn commanding an excellent view of the
hollow and the Rheidol fall. Shortly after I had dined, a fierce
storm of rain and wind came on. It lasted for an hour, and then
everything again became calm. Just before evening was closing in I
took a stroll to a village which stands a little way to the west of
the inn. It consists only of a few ruinous edifices, and is
chiefly inhabited by miners and their families. I saw no men, but
plenty of women and children. Seeing a knot of women and girls
chatting I went up and addressed them. Some of the girls were very
good-looking; none of the party had any English; all of them were
very civil. I first talked to them about religion, and found that,
without a single exception, they were Calvinistic-Methodists. I
next talked to them about the Plant de Bat. They laughed heartily
at the first mention of their name, but seemed to know very little
about their history.
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