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Updated: May 2, 2025
They would only jeer at me as they do, and call me Sara ''spridion. Well, let them, I am richer than they, oh! ten thousand times, and I would not change my life here on the lonely moor, and the visions I have here, for any riches they could offer me."
That baby had found open arms and tender hearts ready to succour it, and when Sara "'spridion" had stretched imploring hands towards it, reminding the onlookers of her recent bereavement, it was handed over to her fostering care. "Give it to me," she said, "my heart is empty; it will not fill up the void, but it will help me to bear it. There are other reasons," she added, "good reasons."
And where is she to-night? I thought she and Morva would surely be at chapel." "She has kept away for my sake, I think," said his father. "They call her Sara ''spridion, and they mean no good by it, but I think 'tis a good name for her, whatever, for I believe the good spirits are always around her, helping her and blessing her just as she is always helping and blessing everybody around her."
The sleep of age is easily put to flight, and Nani opened her eyes. "Sara ''spridion'!" she said, in astonishment. "Sara Lloyd, I mean, but I was dreaming, Sara dear. What is it?" and she sat up not a little disturbed, for Sara's name alone sufficed to arouse the latent fear of the "hysbis" or occult, always lurking in the Celtic mind.
If it was a hymn now! but you hear it's all nonsense about the swallows. Ach y fi! she is learning them from Sara ''spridion'; some song of the 'old fathers' in past times!" "Yes," said Jos, sanctimoniously clasping his stubby fingers, "I'm afraid the girl is a bit of a heathen. What wonder is it?
Sara only smiled as the word "'spridion" escaped the frightened woman's lips. "Is it time to get up?" she said, beginning to rub her eyes. "No, no," said Sara, taking a seat by the bedside, and leaning upon her stick. "Lie still, Nani fâch, and forgive me for awaking you, but I am going a journey, and a journey that won't wait." "Oh, dear!" said Nani, "are you going by the old trên, then?
At the bottom of the bag from which Gethin drew his treasures, lay the little painted box containing Morva's necklace. "Where's Morva?" he asked. "I've got something for her, too." "Oh, well," said Will, "thou art a generous man and a rich, I should think! Perhaps thou hast one for Dyc 'pigstye' and Sara ''spridion' too." "Dyc 'pigstye'; no!
"Well, yes!" said Gwilym Morris; "I think she owes her charm in a great measure to her foster-mother. Do you know old Sara?" "Oh, yes!" said the vicar; "we have all heard of old Sara ''spridion. Something uncanny about the old woman, they say. But, 'pon me word, there is something very interesting about her, too."
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