He hates to have Gwillym make images; he thinks it's witch-craft. Gwillym made an image of him once and the leg broke off, and that very same day Howel's donkey kicked him and made him lame for a week." "There's ower mony gowks in the land for a' the mills to grind," said David, and that was all they could get out of him. They knew he was interested or he would not have been so Scotch.

"Rashleigh," said his father, looking fixedly at him, "thou art a sly loon thou hast ever been too cunning for me, and too cunning for most folks. Have a care thou provena too cunning for thysell two faces under one hood is no true heraldry. And since we talk of heraldry, I'll go and read Gwillym."

"Even a child is known by his doings, whether his heart be pure, and whether it be right," he said half aloud as he led Gwillym away toward his own lodgings. "But the fool hates knowledge. The hearing ear and the seeing eye are the gifts of the Lord and if a man was meant to be a bat or a donkey he'd ha' been made so.

"You bear in mind, Master Roger, that every leevin' thing ye see, frae baukie-bird tae blackfish, kens some bit cantrip he doesna tell, and ye'll be a Solomon if ye live." David was eating his bread and cheese on the lee side of the wall when Eleanor came by with a gray lump of clay in her hands. "See what Gwillym has made," she said. David stopped with the cheese half way to his mouth.

"Rashleigh," said his father, looking fixedly at him, "thou art a sly loon thou hast ever been too cunning for me, and too cunning for most folks. Have a care thou provena too cunning for thysell two faces under one hood is no true heraldry. And since we talk of heraldry, I'll go and read Gwillym."

That figure puzzled David, but Gwillym would say nothing. At last the church was finished, and the village girls went gathering fresh rushes, fragrant herbs and flowers to strew the floor. David went fishing with Roger in Roger's own particular trout-stream. Coming back in the twilight they beheld Gwillym dancing upon the moss, to the piping of a strange little hairy man sitting on a rock.

The nuthatch is Pic Macon, and the mum-ruffin is Pendolin, and the robin is Marie-Godrie. I'm going to show Eleanor the nest next time we come, if you don't mind." To the surprise of everybody old Izan rode up the castle mount one day on a borrowed donkey. "Howel he loaned it to me," she explained dryly. "Seems like he has less fear of witches since little Gwillym began to fat up.

Why, even my uncle reads Gwillym sometimes of a winter night Not know the figures of heraldry! of what could your father be thinking?" "Of the figures of arithmetic," I answered; "the most insignificant unit of which he holds more highly than all the blazonry of chivalry.

Why, even my uncle reads Gwillym sometimes of a winter night Not know the figures of heraldry! of what could your father be thinking?" "Of the figures of arithmetic," I answered; "the most insignificant unit of which he holds more highly than all the blazonry of chivalry.

"Mother Izan must have been uncommonly anxious to get that Solomon's Seal," said Roger as they rode home in the purple dusk. "I believe Howel has been beating Gwillym again." Almost as well-informed as Mother Izan was David Saumond, the stone-mason, who was rebuilding the village church.