chintz
gown, a little bonnet on her head, and looking the image of notableness.

The little maiden, who had never taken her eyes off of me for a moment
during the whole time I had been in the room, at first made no answer;
being, however, bid by her grandmother to speak, she at length answered
in a soft voice, "Medraf, I can."

"Then write your name in this book," said I, taking out a pocket-book and
a pencil, "and write likewise that you are related to Gronwy Owen--and be
sure you write in Welsh."

The little maiden very demurely took the book and pencil, and placing the
former on the table wrote as follows:

"Ellen Jones yn perthyn o bell i gronow owen."

That is, "Ellen Jones belonging from afar to Gronwy Owen."

When I saw the name of Ellen I had no doubt that the children were
related to the illustrious Gronwy. Ellen is a very uncommon Welsh name,
but it seems to have been a family name of the Owens; it was borne by an
infant daughter of the poet whom he tenderly loved, and who died whilst
he was toiling at Walton in Cheshire,--

"Ellen, my darling,
Who liest in the Churchyard at Walton."

says poor Gronwy in one of the most affecting elegies ever written.

After a little farther conversation I bade the family farewell and left
the house. After going down the road a hundred yards I turned back in
order to ask permission to gather a leaf from one of the sycamores.
Seeing the man who had helped me in my conversation with the old woman
standing at the gate, I told him what I wanted, whereupon he instantly
tore down a handful of leaves and gave them to me. Thrusting them into
my coat-pocket I thanked him kindly and departed.

Coming to the half-erected house, I again saw the man to whom I had
addressed myself for information. I stopped, and speaking Spanish to
him, asked how he had acquired the Spanish language.

"I have been in Chili, sir," said he in the same tongue, "and in
California, and in those places I learned Spanish."

"What did you go to Chili for?" said I; "I need not ask you on what
account you went to California."

"I went there as a mariner," said the man; "I sailed out of Liverpool for
Chili."

"And how is it," said I, "that being a mariner and sailing in a Liverpool
ship you do not speak English?"

"I speak English, senor," said the man, "perfectly well."

"Then how in the name of wonder," said I, speaking English, "came you to
answer me in Spanish? I am an Englishman