On the way we
discoursed on various subjects, and understood each other tolerably
well. I asked if he had been anything besides a weaver. He told
me that when a boy he kept sheep on the mountain. "Why did you not
go on keeping sheep?" said "I would rather keep sheep than weave."
"My parents wanted me at home, sir," said he; "and I was not sorry
to go home; I earned little, and lived badly."
"A shepherd," said I, "can earn more than five shillings a week."
"I was never a regular shepherd, sir," said he. "But, sir, I would
rather be a weaver with five shillings a week in Llangollen, than a
shepherd with fifteen on the mountain. The life of a shepherd,
sir, is perhaps not exactly what you and some other gentlefolks
think. The shepherd bears much cold and wet, sir, and he is very
lonely; no society save his sheep and dog. Then, sir, he has no
privileges. I mean gospel privileges. He does not look forward to
Dydd Sul, as a day of llawenydd, of joy and triumph, as the weaver
does; that is if he is religiously disposed. The shepherd has no
chapel, sir, like the weaver.
