en o'clock of a brilliant Sunday morning I left Llangollen, after
reading the morning-service of the Church to my family. I set out on a
Sunday because I was anxious to observe the general demeanour of the
people, in the interior of the country, on the Sabbath.

I directed my course towards the west, to the head of the valley. My
wife and daughter after walking with me about a mile bade me farewell,
and returned. Quickening my pace I soon left Llangollen valley behind me
and entered another vale, along which the road which I was following, and
which led to Corwen and other places, might be seen extending for miles.
Lumpy hills were close upon my left, the Dee running noisily between
steep banks, fringed with trees, was on my right; beyond it rose hills
which form part of the wall of the Vale of Clwyd; their tops bare, but
their sides pleasantly coloured with yellow corn-fields and woods of dark
verdure. About an hour's walking, from the time when I entered the
valley, brought me to a bridge over a gorge, down which water ran to the
Dee. I stopped and looked over the side of the bridge nearest to the
hill. A huge rock about forty feet long by twenty broad, occupied the
entire bed of the gorge, just above the bridge, with the exception of a
little gullet to the right, down which between the rock and a high bank,
on which stood a cottage, a run of water purled and brawled. The rock
looked exactly like a huge whale lying on its side, with its back turned
towards the runnel. Above it was a glen of trees. After I had been
gazing a little time a man making his appearance at the door of the
cottage just beyond the bridge I passed on, and drawing nigh to him,
after a slight salutation, asked him in English the name of the bridge.

"The name of the bridge, sir," said the man, in very good English, "is
Pont y Pandy."

"Does not that mean the bridge of the fulling mill?"

"I believe it does, sir," said the man.

"Is there a fulling mill near?"

"No, sir, there was one some time ago, but it is now a sawing mill."

Here a woman, coming out, looked at me steadfastly.

"Is that gentlewoman your wife?"

"She is no gentlewoman, sir, but she is my wife."

"Of what religion are you?"

"We are Calvinistic-Methodists, sir."

"Have you been to chapel?"

"We are just returned, sir."

Here the woman said something to her husband, which I did not hear, but
the purport of which I guessed from the following question which