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"Well, I must say the land is good; indeed I do not think there is any so good in Shire Aberteifi." "I suppose you are surprised to see me here; I came to see the old Monachlog." "Yes, gentleman; I saw you looking about it." "Am I welcome to see it?" "Croesaw! gwr boneddig, croesaw! many, many welcomes to you, gentleman!" "Do many people come to see the monastery?"
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."
"You would, sir, would you?" said the man in grey, lifting his head on high, and curling his upper lip. "I would, indeed," said I, "my greatest desire at present is to see an Anglesey poet, but where am I to find one?" "Where is he to find one?" said he of the tattered hat; "where's the gwr boneddig to find a prydydd? No occasion to go far, he, he, he." "Well" said I, "but where is he?"
"I have a little broken Cumraeg, at the service of this good company," said I. "With respect to the snake of the sea I beg leave to say that I believe in the existence of such a creature; and am surprised that any people in these parts should not believe in it: why, the sea-serpent has been seen in these parts." "When was that, Gwr Boneddig?" said one of the company.
We asked if we were at the house of Huw Morris, and whether they could tell us anything about him; they made us no answer but proceeded with their occupation; John Jones then said that the Gwr Boneddig was very fond of the verses of Huw Morris, and had come a great way to see the place where he was born.
"Sit down in the chair, Gwr Boneddig," said John Jones, "you have taken trouble enough to get to it." "Do, gentleman," said the old lady; "but first let me wipe it with my apron, for it is very wet and dirty."
She then left the room and presently returned with the cook, a short, thick girl with blue staring eyes. "Here she is, sir," said the landlady, "but she has no English." "All the better," said I. "So you come from a place called Sychnant?" said I to the cook in Welsh. "In truth, sir, I do;" said the cook. "Did you ever hear of a gwr boneddig called Owen Glendower?"
His companion now looking at our habiliments which were in rather a dripping condition asked John Jones if we had come from far. "We have been to Pont y Meibion," said Jones, "to see the chair of Huw Morris," adding that the Gwr Boneddig was a great admirer of the songs of the Eos Ceiriog.
Jones told her that his companion, the gwr boneddig, meaning myself, had come in order to see the birth-place of Huw Morris, and that I was well acquainted with his works, having gotten them by heart in Lloegr, when a boy.
It was a happy comparison of the Gwr Boneddig, and with respect to Rhaiadr it is a good old word, though not a common one; some of the Saxons who have read the old writings, though they cannot speak the language as fast as we, understand many words and things which we do not."
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