MYSELF. - Have you been long here?
WOMAN. - Only since last May, sir! and we hope to get away by next,
and return to our own country, where we shall have some one to
speak to.
MYSELF. - Good-bye!
WOMAN. - Good-bye, sir, and thank you for your conversation; I
haven't had such a treat of talk for many a weary day.
The Vale of the Dyfi became wider and more beautiful as I advanced.
The river ran at the bottom amidst green and seemingly rich
meadows. The hills on the farther side were cultivated a great way
up, and various neat farm-houses were scattered here and there on
their sides. At the foot of one of the most picturesque of these
hills stood a large white village. I wished very much to know its
name, but saw no one of whom I could inquire. I proceeded for
about a mile, and then perceiving a man wheeling stones in a barrow
for the repairing of the road I thought I would inquire of him. I
did so, but the village was then out of sight, and though I pointed
in its direction and described its situation I could not get its
name out of him. At last I said hastily, "Can you tell me your own
name?"
"Dafydd Tibbot, sir," said he.
"Tibbot, Tibbot," said I; "why, you are a Frenchman."
"Dearie me, sir," said the man, looking very pleased, "am I,
indeed?"
"Yes, you are," said I, rather repenting of my haste, and giving
him sixpence, I left him.
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