He did not seem to understand my
question, for getting up he came towards me and asked what I
wanted: I repeated what I had said, whereupon his face became
animated.
"Llanfair Mathafarn eithaf!" said he. "Yes, I can tell you about
it, and with good reason, for it lies not far from the place where
I was born."
The above was the substance of what he said, and nothing more, for
he spoke in English somewhat broken.
"And how far is Llanfair from here?" said I.
"About ten miles," he replied.
"That's nothing," said I: "I was afraid it was much farther."
"Do you call ten miles nothing," said he, "in a burning day like
this? I think you will be both tired and thirsty before you get to
Llanfair, supposing you go there on foot. But what may your
business be at Llanfair?" said he, looking at me inquisitively.
"It is a strange place to go to, unless you go to buy hogs or
cattle."
"I go to buy neither hogs nor cattle," said I, "though I am
somewhat of a judge of both; I go on a more important errand,
namely to see the birth-place of the great Gronwy Owen."
"Are you any relation of Gronwy Owen?" said the old man, looking at
me more inquisitively than before, through a large pair of
spectacles which he wore.
"None whatever," said I.
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