features still current in Cynwyd, a
village about two miles from Corwen. The first reference to the story
that I am acquainted with appeared in an essay sent in to a local
Eisteddfod in 1863. The story is thus related in this essay:--

"About half a mile from Cynwyd is the 'Mill Waterfall,' beneath which
there is a deep linn or whirlpool, where a man, who was fishing there on
Sunday, once found an enormous fish. 'I will catch him, though the D---l
take me,' said the presumptuous man. The fish went under the fall, the
man followed him, and was never afterwards seen." Such is the tale, but
it is, or was believed, that Satan had changed himself into a fish, and
by allurement got the man into his power and carried him bodily to the
nethermost regions.

_Satan appearing in many forms to a Man who Travelled on Sunday_.

I received the following tale from my deceased friend, the Rev. J. L.
Davies, late Rector of Llangynog, near Llanfyllin, Montgomeryshire, and
he obtained it from William Davies, the man who figures in the story.

As a preface to the tale, it should be stated that it was usual, some
years ago, for Welsh labourers to proceed to the harvest in England,
which was earlier there than in Wales, and after that was finished, they
hastened homewards to be in time for their own harvest. These migratory
Welsh harvestmen are not altogether extinct in our days, but about forty
years ago they were much more common than they are at present. Then
respectable farmers' sons with sickles on their backs, and well filled
wallets over their shoulders, went in companies to the early English
Lowlands to hire themselves as harvest labourers. My tale now
commences:--

William Davies, Penrhiw, near Aberystwyth, went to England for the
harvest, and after having worked there about three weeks, he returned
home alone, with all possible haste, as he knew that his father-in-law's
fields were by this time ripe for the sickle. He, however, failed to
accomplish the journey before Sunday; but he determined to travel on
Sunday, and thus reach home on Sunday night to be ready to commence
reaping on Monday morning. His conscience, though, would not allow him
to be at rest, but he endeavoured to silence its twittings by saying to
himself that he had with him no clothes to go to a place of worship. He
stealthily, therefore, walked on, feeling very guilty every step he took,
and dreading to meet anyone going to chapel or church. B