ad better mount through a field at the back of
the house. He took me to a gate, which he opened, and then pointed out
the way which I must pursue. As I went away he said that both he and his
family should be always happy to see me at Ty yn y Pistyll, which words,
interpreted, are the house by the spout of water.

I went up the field with the lane on my right, down which ran a runnel of
water, from which doubtless the house derived its name. I soon came to
an unenclosed part of the mountain covered with gorse and whin, and still
proceeding upward reached a road, which I subsequently learned was the
main road from Llangollen over the hill. I was not long in gaining the
top which was nearly level. Here I stood for some time looking about me,
having the vale of Llangollen to the north of me, and a deep valley
abounding with woods and rocks to the south.

Following the road to the south, which gradually descended, I soon came
to a place where a road diverged from the straight one to the left. As
the left-hand road appeared to lead down a romantic valley I followed it.
The scenery was beautiful--steep hills on each side. On the right was a
deep ravine, down which ran a brook; the hill beyond it was covered
towards the top with a wood, apparently of oak, between which and the
ravine were small green fields. Both sides of the ravine were fringed
with trees, chiefly ash. I descended the road which was zigzag and
steep, and at last arrived at the bottom of the valley, where there was a
small hamlet. On the further side of the valley to the east was a steep
hill on which were a few houses--at the foot of the hill was a brook
crossed by an antique bridge of a single arch. I directed my course to
the bridge, and after looking over the parapet for a minute or two upon
the water below, which was shallow and noisy, ascended a road which led
up the hill: a few scattered houses were on each side. I soon reached
the top of the hill, where were some more houses, those which I had seen
from the valley below. I was in a Welsh mountain village, which put me
much in mind of the villages which I had strolled through of old in
Castile and La Mancha; there were the same silence and desolation here as
yonder away--the houses were built of the same material, namely stone. I
should perhaps have fancied myself for a moment in a Castilian or
Manchegan mountain pueblicito, but for the abundance of trees which met
my eye on every side.