he
immediately put.

"Have you been to chapel, sir?"

"I do not go to chapel; I belong to the Church."

"Have you been to church, sir?"

"I have not--I said my prayers at home, and then walked out."

"It is not right to walk out on the Sabbath-day, except to go to church
or chapel."

"Who told you so?"

"The law of God, which says you shall keep holy the Sabbath-day."

"I am not keeping it unholy."

"You are walking about, and in Wales when we see a person walking idly
about, on the Sabbath-day, we are in the habit of saying,
Sabbath-breaker, where are you going?"

"The Son of Man walked through the fields on the Sabbath-day, why should
I not walk along the roads?"

"He who called Himself the Son of Man was God and could do what He
pleased, but you are not God."

"But He came in the shape of a man to set an example. Had there been
anything wrong in walking about on the Sabbath-day, He would not have
done it."

Here the wife exclaimed, "How worldly-wise these English are!"

"You do not like the English," said I.

"We do not dislike them," said the woman; "at present they do us no harm,
whatever they did of old."

"But you still consider them," said I, "the seed of Y Sarfes cadwynog,
the coiling serpent."

"I should be loth to call any people the seed of the serpent," said the
woman.

"But one of your great bards did," said I.

"He must have belonged to the Church, and not to the chapel then," said
the woman. "No person who went to chapel would have used such bad
words."

"He lived," said I, "before people were separated into those of the
Church and the chapel; did you ever hear of Taliesin Ben Beirdd?"

"I never did," said the woman.

"But I have," said the man; "and of Owain Glendower too."

"Do people talk much of Owen Glendower in these parts?" said I.

"Plenty," said the man, "and no wonder, for when he was alive he was much
about here--some way farther on there is a mount, on the bank of the Dee,
called the mount of Owen Glendower, where it is said he used to stand and
look out after his enemies."

"Is it easy to find?" said I.

"Very easy," said the man, "it stands right upon the Dee and is covered
with trees; there is no mistaking it."

I bade the man and his wife farewell, and proceeded on my way. After
walking about a mile, I perceived a kind of elevation which answered to
the description of Glendower's mount, which the man by the bridge had
given me. It stood on the rig