ase of fever-and-ague, a New York auctioneer, and a pugilist
of the Tom Hyer school, all fused together, and you may form some faint
idea of a Welsh bard in the agony of inspiration. Such roaring,
such eye-rolling, such thumping of fists and stamping of feet, such
joint-dislocating action of the arms, such gyrations of the head, such
spasmodic jerkings--out of the language of the ancient Britons, I never
heard before, and fervently pray that I never may again. And, let it be
remembered, the grotesque costume of the bard wonderfully heightened the
effect. His long beard, made of tow, became matted with the saliva which
ran down upon it from the corners of his mouth; his make-believe
bald scalp was accidentally wiped to one side, as he mopped away the
perspiration from his forehead with a red cotton handkerchief; and a
nail in the gallery front catching his ancient robe, in a moment of
frenzy, a fearful rending sound indicated a solution of continuity, and
exposed a modern blue _un_bardic pair of breeches with bright brass
buttons beneath,--an incident in keeping with the sham nature of all the
proceedings. For a mortal half hour this exhibition lasted, and when
the impassioned speaker sat down, panting and perspiring, the multitude
stamped, clapped, and hallooed, and went into such paroxysms of frenzy,
that Bedlam broke loose could alone be compared with it.

During the three days the Festival lasted, such scenes as I have
described were repeated,--the only changes being in the persons of
the singers and spouters. Glad enough was I when all was over, and my
occupation as reporter gone, for that time at least. With the aid of
a Welsh friend I managed to make a highly florid report of the
proceedings, which occupied no less than eight columns of the "M----
Beacon." As several of the speakers were only too glad to give me, _sub
rosa_, copies of their speeches in their native language, and as none
knew of the fact but ourselves, I gained no little reputation as an
accomplished Welsh scholar. The result of this was, that presents of
Welsh Bibles, hymn-books, histories, topographies, and the like, by the
score, were forwarded to me,--some out of respect for my talents as a
great Welsh linguist, others for review in the newspaper. I was neither
born to such greatness, nor did I ever achieve it; it was literally
thrust on me; so also were sundry joints of the delicious Liliputian
Welsh mutton, which latter I am not ashamed to say