wn meals were generally partaken of. Ebben Owens himself, as
often as not, took his with the servants, but Will, especially of late,
preferred to join Ann and Gwilym Morris in the best kitchen or hall.
Here they were seated to-night, a glowing fire of culm balls filling
the large grate, and throwing a light which was but little helped by
the home-made dip standing in a brass candlestick on the middle of the
table, round which they were all gathered while Gethin displayed his
presents.
"Here's a tie for you, father; green it is, with red spots; would you
like it?"
"Ts-ts!" said the old man, "it has just come in time, lad, for me to
wear on Sunday when I go to hear Will reading in church."
"That will be a proud day for you, father; I will go with you. And for
thee, Will, here's a knife. I remember how fond thee wast of the old
knife we bought in the fair together."
"Well, indeed!" said Will, clasping and unclasping the blades; "'tis a
splendid one, too, and here's a fine blade to mend pens with!"
"And for Ann," continued Gethen, "I have only a hymn-book."
"What couldst thou bring me better? And look at the cover! So good.
And the gold edges! And Welsh! I will be proud of it."
"Yes," said Gethin; "I bought it in Liverpool in a shop where they sell
Welsh books. And for you, sir," he said, turning to Gwilym Morris.
"'Sir,'" said the preacher, laughing; "Gethin bach, this is the second
time you have called me 'sir.' Drop it, man, or I will be offended."
"Well! I won't say it again. Dei anwl! I will have to be on my best
behaviour here, with a parson and a preacher in the house! Well! it's
a pocket-book for you, I thought very like, being a preacher, you would
like to put down a word sometimes."
"Quite right, indeed," said Gwilym Morris; "and look at my old one,
barely hanging together it is!"
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! But Sara, indeed I'm sorry I didn't remember her,
whatever."
"I hear Morva's voice in the yard. Will I call her in?" said Ann, and
she tapped at the little side window.
"No, no," said Gethin, "I will take it to her," and he went out,
carrying the g
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