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"May I ask the name of this lake?" said I, addressing myself to the young man who sat between me and the elderly one. "Its name is Llyn Cwellyn, sir," said he, taking the pipe out of his mouth. "And a fine lake it is." "Plenty of fish in it?" I demanded. "Plenty, sir; plenty of trout and pike and char." "Is it deep?" said I.
"The mill is called 'The mill of the river of Lake Cwellyn," said she, "and the river is called the river of Lake Cwellyn." "And who owns the land?" said I. "Sir Richard," said she. "I Sir Richard yw yn perthyn y tir. Mr Williams, however, possesses some part of Mount Eilio." "And who is Mr Williams?" said I. "Who is Mr Williams?" said the miller's wife.
National School The Young Preacher Pont Bettws Spanish Words Two Tongues, Two Faces The Elephant's Snout Llyn Cwellyn The Snowdon Ranger My House Castell y Cidwm Descent to Beth Gelert. IT might be about three o'clock in the afternoon when I left Caernarvon for Beth Gelert, distant about thirteen miles.
It is related at Waenfawr, near Carnarvon, that a youth broke, like Wild Edric, into a dance of the fairies on the banks of the Gwyrfai, near Cwellyn Lake, one moonlit night, and carried off a maiden. She at first refused to wed him, but consented to remain his servant. One evening, however, he overheard two of her kindred speaking of her, and caught her name Penelope.
After that, many persons who passed the mill at midnight said they saw the mill lit up and working; but the old miller left the fairies alone to coin their money. In a meadow belonging to Ystrad, bounded by the river which falls from Cwellyn Lake, they say the fairies used to assemble, and dance in fair moonlight nights.
Cwellyn Lake and Valley, Moel Hebog, y Garnedd, the glittering sea, Anglesey, Holyhead Hill, all seemed to be growing in gold and glory out of masses of sunset mist. When at last we reached the edge of a steep cliff, with the rocky forehead of Snowdon in front, and the shining llyns of Cwm y Clogwyn below, Sinfi stopped.
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