rey was also not slow to empty his
own. The jug now passed rapidly between my two friends, for the poet
seemed determined to have his full share of the beverage. I allowed the
ale in my glass to remain untasted, and began to talk about the bards,
and to quote from their works. I soon found that the man in grey knew
quite as much of the old bards and their works as myself. In one
instance he convicted me of a mistake.

I had quoted those remarkable lines in which an old bard, doubtless
seeing the Menai Bridge by means of second sight, says:--"I will pass to
the land of Mona notwithstanding the waters of the Menai, without waiting
for the ebb"--and was feeling not a little proud of my erudition, when
the man in grey after looking at me for a moment fixedly, asked me the
name of the bard who composed them. "Sion Tudor," I replied.

"There you are wrong," said the man in grey; "his name was not Sion Tudor
but Robert Vychan, in English, Little Bob. Sion Tudor wrote an englyn on
the Skerries whirlpool in the Menai; but it was Little Bob who wrote the
stanza in which the future bridge over the Menai is hinted at."

"You are right," said I, "you are right. Well, I am glad that all song
and learning are not dead in Ynis Fon."

"Dead," said the man in grey, whose features began to be rather flushed,
"they are neither dead nor ever will be. There are plenty of poets in
Anglesey--why, I can mention twelve, and amongst them and not the
least--pooh, what was I going to say? twelve there are, genuine Anglesey
poets, born there, and living there for the love they bear their native
land. When I say they all live in Anglesey, perhaps I am not quite
accurate, for one of the dozen does not exactly live in Anglesey, but
just over the bridge. He is an elderly man, but his awen, I assure you,
is as young and vigorous as ever."

"I shouldn't be at all surprised," said I, "if he was a certain ancient
gentleman, from whom I obtained information yesterday, with respect to
the birth-place of Gronwy Owen."

"Very likely," said the man in grey; "well, if you have seen him consider
yourself fortunate, for he is a genuine bard, and a genuine son of
Anglesey, notwithstanding he lives across the water."

"If he is the person I allude to," said I, "I am doubly fortunate, for I
have seen two bards of Anglesey."

"Sir," said the man in grey, "I consider myself quite as fortunate, in
having met such a Saxon as yourself, as it is possible f