A man now coming in who lived at the next door, she said I had
better speak to him and tell him what I wanted to know, which he
could then communicate to her, as she could understand his way of
speaking much better than mine. Through the man I asked her
whether there was any one of the blood of Gronwy Owen living in the
house. She pointed to the children and said they had all some of
his blood. I asked in what relationship they stood to Gronwy. She
said she could hardly tell, that tri priodas, three marriages stood
between, and that the relationship was on the mother's side. I
gathered from her that the children had lost their mother, that
their name was Jones, and that their father was her son. I asked
if the house in which they lived was their own; she said no, that
it belonged to a man who lived at some distance. I asked if the
children were poor.
"Very," said she.
I gave them each a trifle, and the poor old lady thanked me with
tears in her eyes.
I asked whether the children could read; she said they all could,
with the exception of the two youngest. The eldest she said could
read anything, whether Welsh or English; she then took from the
window-sill a book, which she put into my hand, saying the child
could read it and understand it.
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