"
"Is this the way to Llanfair?" said I to the man. The man made a
kind of rush in order to get past me.
"Have you any Welsh?" I shouted as loud as I could bawl.
The man stopped, and turning a dark sullen countenance half upon me
said, "Yes, I have Welsh."
"Which is the way to Llanfair?" said I.
"Llanfair, Llanfair?" said the man, "what do you mean?"
"I want to get there," said I.
"Are you not there already?" said the fellow stamping on the
ground, "are you not in Llanfair?
"Yes, but I want to get to the town."
"Town, town! Oh, I have no English," said the man; and off he
started like a frighted bullock. The poor fellow was probably at
first terrified at seeing an Englishman, then confused at hearing
an Englishman speak Welsh, a language which the Welsh in general
imagine no Englishman can speak, the tongue of an Englishman as
they say not being long enough to pronounce Welsh; and lastly
utterly deprived of what reasoning faculties he had still remaining
by my asking him for the town of Llanfair, there being properly no
town.
I went on, and at last getting out of the lane, found myself upon
the road, along which I had come about two hours before; the house
of the miller was at some distance on my right. Near me were two
or three houses and part of the skeleton of one, on which some men,
in the dress of masons, seemed to be occupied.
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