a
small church or chapel at some little distance from the road, which here
made a turn nearly full south. The road was very good, but the country
was wild and rugged; there was a deep vale on the right, at the bottom of
which rolled the Rheidol in its cleft, rising beyond which were steep,
naked hills.

"This village," said my companion, "is called Ysbytty Cynfyn. Down on
the right, past the church, is a strange bridge across the Rheidol, which
runs there through a horrid kind of a place. The bridge is called Pont
yr Offeiriad, or the Parson's Bridge, because in the old time the
clergyman passed over it every Sunday to do duty in the church here."

"Why is this place called Ysbytty Cynfyn?" said I, "which means the
hospital of the first boundary; is there a hospital of the second
boundary near here?"

"I can't say anything about boundaries, your honour; all I know is, that
there is another Spytty farther on beyond Hafod called Ysbytty Ystwyth,
or the 'Spytty upon the Ystwyth. But to return to the matter of the
Minister's Bridge: I would counsel your honour to go and see that bridge
before you leave these parts. A vast number of gentry go to see it in
the summer time. It was the bridge which the landlord was mentioning
last night, though it scarcely belongs to his district, being quite as
near the Devil's Bridge inn as it is to his own, your honour."

We went on discoursing for about half a mile farther, when, stopping by a
road which branched off to the hills on the left, my companion said. "I
must now wish your honour good day, being obliged to go a little way up
here to a mining work on a small bit of business; my son, however, and
his dog Joe will show your honour the way to the Devil's Bridge, as they
are bound to a place a little way past it. I have now but one word to
say, which is, that should ever your honour please to visit me at my
mine, your honour shall receive every facility for inspecting the works,
and moreover have a bellyful of drink and victuals from Jock Greaves,
miner from the county of Durham."

I shook the honest fellow by the hand, and went on in company with the
lad John and his dog as far as the Devil's Bridge. John was a
highly-intelligent lad, spoke Welsh and English fluently, could read, as
he told me, both languages, and had some acquaintance with the writings
of Twm o'r Nant, as he showed by repeating the following lines of the
carter poet, certainly not the worst which he ev