e FICTION) had written
"the best book about Wales ever published." This verdict
has been endorsed by admirers of Wales and of Borrow. Less
imaginative than his earlier works, it is more natural and
cheerful; it is a faithful record of studies of Welsh
scenery and characteristics, and affords many a delightful
glimpse of the quaint personality of its author.

In the summer of the year 1854, myself, wife and daughter determined
upon going into Wales to pass a few months there. It was my knowledge of
Welsh, such as it was, that made me desirous that we should go to Wales.
In my boyhood I had been something of a philologist, and had learnt some
Welsh, partly from books and partly from a Welsh groom. I was well
versed in the compositions of various of the old Welsh bards, especially
those of Dafydd ab Gwilym, whom I have always considered as the greatest
poetical genius that has appeared in Europe since the revival of
literature.

So our little family started for Wales on July 27, and next day we
arrived at Chester. Three days later I sent my wife and daughter by
train to Llangollen, and on the following morning I left Chester for
Llangollen on foot. After passing through Wrexham, I soon reached
Rhiwabon, whence my way lay nearly west. A woman passed me going towards
Rhiwabon. I pointed to a ridge to the east, and asked its name. The
woman shook her head and replied, "Dim Saesneg" (No English).

"This is as it should be," said I to myself; "I now feel I am in Wales."
I repeated the question in Welsh.

"Cefn bach," she replied--which signifies the little ridge.

"Diolch iti," I replied, and proceeded on my way.

On arriving at Llangollen I found my wife and daughter at the principal
inn. During dinner we had music, for a Welsh harper stationed in the
passage played upon his instrument "Codiad yr ehedydd." "Of a surety,"
said I, "I am in Wales!"

The beautiful valley of the Dee, or Dwy, of which the Llangollen
district forms part, is called in the British tongue Glyndyfrdwy. The
celebrated Welsh chieftain, generally known as Owen Glendower, was
surnamed after the valley, which belonged to him.

Connected with the Dee there is a wonderful Druidical legend to the
following effect. The Dee springs from two fountains, high up in
Merionethshire, called Dwy Fawr and Dwy Fach, or the great and little
Dwy, whose waters pass through those of the lake of Bala without
mingling with them, and come out at its northern