n the top grows a
gwern or alder-tree, about a foot thick, its bark terribly scotched with
letters and uncouth characters, carved by the idlers of the town who are
fond of resorting to the top of the mound in fine weather, and lying down
on the grass which covers it. The Tomen is about the same size as
Glendower's Mount on the Dee, which it much resembles in shape. Both
belong to that brotherhood of artificial mounds of unknown antiquity,
found scattered, here and there, throughout Europe and the greater part
of Asia, the most remarkable specimen of which is, perhaps, that which
stands on the right side of the way from Adrianople to Stamboul, and
which is called by the Turks Mourad Tepehsi, or the tomb of Mourad.
Which mounds seem to have been originally intended as places of
sepulture, but in many instances were afterwards used as strongholds,
bonhills or beacon-heights, or as places on which adoration was paid to
the host of heaven.

From the Tomen there is a noble view of the Bala valley, the Lake of
Beauty up to its southern extremity, and the neighbouring and distant
mountains. Of Bala, its lake and Tomen, I shall have something to say on
a future occasion.

Leaving Bala I passed through the village of Llanfair and found myself by
the Dee, whose course I followed for some way. Coming to the northern
extremity of the Bala valley, I entered a pass tending due north. Here
the road slightly diverged from the river. I sped along, delighted with
the beauty of the scenery. On my left was a high bank covered with
trees, on my right a grove, through openings in which I occasionally
caught glimpses of the river, over whose farther side towered noble
hills. An hour's walking brought me into a comparatively open country,
fruitful and charming. At about one o'clock I reached a large village,
the name of which, like those of most Welsh villages, began with Llan.
There I refreshed myself for an hour or two in an old-fashioned inn, and
then resumed my journey.

I passed through Corwen; again visited Glendower's monticle upon the Dee,
and reached Llangollen shortly after sunset, where I found my beloved two
well and glad to see me.

That night, after tea, Henrietta played on the guitar the old muleteer
tune of "El Punto de la Vana," or the main point at the Havanna, whilst I
sang the words--

"Never trust the sample when you go your cloth to buy:
The woman's most deceitful that's dressed most daintily.
T