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"That's Ogo Wylofen," he said. "Ach y fi!" said Shoni, with a shudder, "wherr you bin when you painted that?" "At the mouth of the cave in a boat. It is magnificent, that rushing water, those weird wailings, and the mysterious figures of spray which pass up into the dark fissures." But this was far above Shoni's head.
"Well, now," said Ellis, "I want to have a picture of Corwen." "Yes, to-morrow, in the field, and me standing by her. I will put on my new gaiters." "The young lady has gone to ask your master's consent." "The master!" said Shoni, locking the barn door; "pooh! 'sno need to ask him. You kom to-morrow and make a picksher on Corwen and me. Wherr you stop?" "At Brynderyn." "With the Vicare du?
Shoni begins to ask me suspiciously, 'Wherr you going again, Valmai? I am sure we could not go on much longer meeting here without his interference." "How dreadful to have Shoni's red hair and gaitered legs dogging our footsteps in this fairy dell." "To whom does this sweet valley belong, Cardo? To you?" "To my father.
A man who knows two languages knows half as much again of everything as a man who can only speak one." Shoni scratched his head; he was mollified by the stranger's evident appreciation of his learning, but thought it necessary to keep his wits about him. "With these foreigns, you know, you never know wherr they arr these English, you know," he was wont to say, "nor wherr they arr leading you to."
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