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"The river," said I, "which Huw Morris loved so well, whose praises he has sung, and which he has introduced along with Cefn Uchaf in a stanza in which he describes the hospitality of Chirk Castle in his day, and which runs thus: "Pe byddai 'r Cefn Ucha, Yn gig ac yn fara, A Cheiriog fawr yma'n fir aml bob tro, Rhy ryfedd fae iddyn' Barhau hanner blwyddyn, I wyr bob yn gan-nyn ar ginio."
"You have ridden him too soon after his sprain, as I told you, but young men always know better than their elders." "Well, you were right anyway this time, father." "Yes," said his father; "as the old proverb says, 'Yr hên a wyr yr ifanc a debyg." "Shouldn't wonder if it rained to-morrow, the wind has veered to the south; it will be bad for the 'Sassiwn, won't it?" said Cardo, after a pause.
'And where's the thousands and hundreds of thousands your father was leaving you? Ten years ago come next Jeune he did die, my poor Griffey. 'Now, mother, don't humbug me about that. You know you were glad enough. Only let me have the money, unless you want me to leave the country, never to come back. 'Ach an wyr! How you be talking. You wos frightening me to death.
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