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He had a thirst for the sign of her confessing to it. He looked. Something like a petrifaction of her wildest face was shown. Carinthia's eyes were hard out on a scattered knot of children down the street. She gathered up her skirts. Without a word to him, she ran, and running shouted to the little ones around and ahead: 'In! in! indoors, children! "Blant, i'r ty!"
"Which part of the top?" said she. "I'r goruchaf," I replied. "That must be where the barber's pole stands," said she. "Why does the barber's pole stand there?" said I. "A barber was hanged there a long time ago," said she, "and the pole was placed to show the spot." "Why was he hanged?" said I. "For murdering his wife," said she.
Mothers, mothers, ho! get them in. See the dog! "Ci! Ci!" In with them! "Blant, i'r ty! Vr ty!" A big black mongrel appeared worrying at one of two petticoated urchins on the ground.
Mothers, mothers, ho! get them in. See the dog! "Ci! Ci!" In with them! "Blant, i'r ty! Vr ty!" A big black mongrel appeared worrying at one of two petticoated urchins on the ground.
He had a thirst for the sign of her confessing to it. He looked. Something like a petrifaction of her wildest face was shown. Carinthia's eyes were hard out on a scattered knot of children down the street. She gathered up her skirts. Without a word to him, she ran, and running shouted to the little ones around and ahead: 'In! in! indoors, children! "Blant, i'r ty!"
We started on our expedition at about seven o'clock of a brilliant morning. We passed by the abbey and presently came to a small fountain with a little stone edifice, with a sharp top above it. "That is the holy well," said my guide: "Llawer iawn o barch yn yr amser yr Pabyddion yr oedd i'r fynnon hwn much respect in the times of the Papists there was to this fountain."
I would fain have excused myself, but the old gentleman insisted on my drinking. "Well," said I, taking the glass, "thank God that our gloomy forebodings are not likely to be realised. Oes y byd i'r glod Frythoneg! May Britain's glory last as long as the world!" Then, looking for a moment at the ale, which was of a dark-brown colour, I put the glass to my lips and drank.
"Here," said I to Henrietta, "you are on the top crag of Snowdon, which the Welsh consider, and perhaps with justice, to be the most remarkable crag in the world; which is mentioned in many of their old wild romantic tales, and some of the noblest of their poems, amongst others in the 'Day of Judgment, by the illustrious Goronwy Owen, where it is brought forward in the following manner: "'Ail i'r ar ael Eryri, Cyfartal hoewal a hi.
Ann and Morva had cut the generous hunches of barley bread and cheese overnight, and well it was that they were thus prepared, for before the hens and turkeys had flown down from their roosting-place, and before the cows had risen from their warm beds of straw in the beudy, or the sheep had begun to shake off the snow which had fallen on their fleeces in the night, fresh young voices were heard in the farmyard singing the old refrain familiar to generations of Welsh children: "Calenig i fi, calenig i'r ffon, Calenig i fytta ar hyd y ffordd.
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