tain Lydiart forming a noble background.

"Who owns this wood?" said I in Welsh to two men who were limbing a
felled tree by the road-side.

"Lord Vivian," answered one, touching his hat.

"The gentleman is our countryman," said he to the other after I had
passed.

I was now descending the side of a pretty valley, and soon found myself
at Pentraeth Coch. The part of the Pentraeth where I now was consisted
of a few houses and a church, or something which I judged to be a church,
for there was no steeple; the houses and church stood about a little open
spot or square, the church on the east, and on the west a neat little inn
or public-house over the door of which was written "The White Horse.
Hugh Pritchard." By this time I had verified in part the prediction of
the old Welsh poet of the post-office. Though I was not yet arrived at
Llanfair, I was, if not tired, very thirsty, owing to the burning heat of
the weather, so I determined to go in and have some ale. On entering the
house I was greeted in English by Mr Hugh Pritchard himself, a tall bulky
man with a weather-beaten countenance, dressed in a brown jerkin and
corduroy trowsers, with a broad low-crowned buff-coloured hat on his
head, and what might he called half shoes and half high-lows on his feet.
He had a short pipe in his mouth, which when he greeted me he took out,
but replaced as soon as the greeting was over, which consisted of
"Good-day, sir," delivered in a frank, hearty tone. I looked Mr Hugh
Pritchard in the face and thought I had never seen a more honest
countenance. On my telling Mr Pritchard that I wanted a pint of ale, a
buxom damsel came forward and led me into a nice cool parlour on the
right-hand side of the door, and then went to fetch the ale.

Mr Pritchard meanwhile went into a kind of tap-room, fronting the
parlour, where I heard him talking in Welsh about pigs and cattle to some
of his customers. I observed that he spoke with some hesitation; which
circumstance I mention as rather curious, he being the only Welshman I
have ever known who, when speaking his native language, appeared to be at
a loss for words. The damsel presently brought me the ale, which I
tasted and found excellent; she was going away when I asked her whether
Mr Pritchard was her father; on her replying in the affirmative I
inquired whether she was born in that house.

"No!" said she; "I was born in Liverpool; my father was born in this
house, which belonged to