The Adventures And Vagaries Of Twm Shon Catti Part 11

Prothero, although the most good-humoured of country gentlemen, was rather angry with shrewd Roger, whose shrewdness became rather questionable. It was admitted, in excuse, that the most cunning, at times, may be accidentally overreached by his inferior in wit: on this plea the merry magistrate was conciliated, and induced to enter into another wager, precisely like the former, when a similar sum, against our hero, and in favor of his servant was laid and accepted. The man of shrewdness, as before, determined to use the utmost vigilance and caution to preserve his charge and redeem his reputation. He grasped his load, which was a fine fat ewe, most manfully, and swore violent oaths in answer to his master's exhortation to chariness, that human ingenuity should never trick him again; but

"Great protestations do make that doubted, Which we would else right willingly believe."

In his way to Llangattock, he had to pa.s.s partly through a wood, which he scarce entered when the bleating of a sheep attracted his attention, and he came to a dead stand, as he intently listened to what he conceived a well-known voice. "Baa!-baa!" again saluted his ear: a sudden conviction rushed across his mind that this was the very sheep he had before lost, which he imagined might have been concealed by Twm in the rocky recesses of that woody dingle. What a glorious chance, thought he, of recovering his lost credit with his master, and depriving his antagonist at the same time, of his hidden prey, and the laurels achieved in the winning of it.

He instantly deposited his burthen beneath a tree; and eagerly forcing his way through the copse and bushes, he followed the bleating a considerable way down the wood, when to his great dismay it ceased altogether. A thought now struck him, though rather too late, that the bleating proceeded from no sheep, but a most subtle ram, in the person of Twm Shon Catti: he hurried back in a grievous fright, and found his surmises but too true-the second sheep, and his high reputation for shrewdness, had both taken flight together.

On being confronted with shrewd Roger, in his master's parlour, Twm recognized in him an old acquaintance, and no other than the clever youth with whom he had exchanged his feminine attire at Cardigan fair, and made off with his coat. On being reminded of that affair, and told by Twm that he was the fair ballad-singer with whom he was so deeply captivated, the poor fellow was absorbed in wonderment. He then related to his master the whole of that adventure, with the episode of the parson tossed in a blanket for a b.u.m-bailiff, in such a manner as to excite the most immoderate laughter on the part of the jest-loving Prothero, who good-naturedly a.s.sured his man that he lost but little credit with the sheep, when it was considered that he stood opposed to an arch wag of so much celebrity.

Fortune was not so scurvy a stepmother to Twm as to confine him long to a diet of mere mutton, but took occasion to vary it very agreeably with a change of beef.

Determined to have more mirth with our hero, at the hazard of some loss, Prothero offered to oppose to his cunning, the collective vigilance of his husbandmen and maidens; laying a bet with him that he should not steal a white ox, which, with a black one, was to be yoked to the plough.

The plough to be held by Roger and driven by another servant; while two girls, driving each a harrow, should also be on their guard to prevent his aim if possible.

Twm accepted the bet, and obligingly undertook to convey away the white ox, and eat the gentleman's beef, provided it turned out sufficiently tender; protesting, with a half yawn and the perfect ease of a modern Corinthian, that he was absolutely tired of mutton, which he had too long persisted in eating, against the judgement and advice of his physician.

The day arrived, the great, the important day, big with the fate of the white ox. The plough was guided and the cattle driven, while the two bare-footed maidens giggled and laughed till the rocks echoed, as they whipped the horses and ran by their sides, till the harrows bounced against the stones, and sometimes turned over; their mirth was excited by the idea of Twm's folly in accepting such a bet, and thinking to steal the white ox from under their noses, the impossibility of which was so evident. The two servants at the plough also cracked and enjoyed their joke at the thoughts of our hero's temerity, at the same time keeping a wary eye in every direction, armed against surprisals, and exulting in the thought that for once, at least, the dexterous Twm would be baffled in his aim. Time pa.s.sed on; the day waned away towards evening, and as their fatigue increased, their vigilance gradually lessened.

A Llandovery-man, known to them all, pa.s.sing through the green lane by the field, now addressed these husbandmen, laughing at their caution, and a.s.suring them that Twm had given up the idea of outwitting such a wary and clever party, and was at that moment drinking his wine with their master, whom he had allowed to win the wager. "Allowed, indeed!" quoth a sharp-tongued la.s.s, as she stopped her harrow to listen, "pretty allowing, when he could not help himself." "Aye," cried the other girl, "so the fox allowed the goose to escape, when she took to flight and escaped his clutches." Roger and the plough-boy exulted in their antic.i.p.ated reward of a skin full of strong beer; thus the whole party was excited to a high pitch of triumphant mirth. The Llandovery-man was of course a decoy, and his report had really the effect of throwing them off their guard, which another circ.u.mstance contributed to aid. The rural party had rested, sitting on their ploughs and harrows, at one end of the field, while they listened to their informant; and now were about to resume their labours, when a hare started from an adjoining thicket, crossing the ground towards the opposite hedge. Suddenly the halloo arose, away ran the ploughmen and girls, and away ran the yapping sheep-dog, amid the clamour of shouting and barking; but still stood the wondering oxen, whose grave looks of astonishment gradually changed to a more animated expression of alarm on the arrival of Twm Shon Catti.

Having loosed his captive hare to decoy the clowns, he availed himself of their absence to dress the black ox in a white morning gown,-that is to say, a sheet, which became him much, and contrasted with his complexion amazingly; and the white ox he attired in a suit of mourning, formed of the burial pall, which he had borrowed of the clerk of Llandingad church for that express purpose, and having loosened his fair friend from the yoke, they suddenly disappeared through a gap in the hedge. Although busily engaged in the gentlemanly pastime of the chase, the husbandry worthies now and then glanced towards the plough, but seeing, as they thought, the white ox safe, returned to it at a leisurely pace, till quickened as they neared it by the singular sight before them: and their petty vexation at losing the hare was now swallowed up by the terrible circ.u.mstance of the loss of their especial charge. A suitable lamentation followed of course, which was succeeded by fear and trembling, from a conviction that Twm Shon Catti dealt with the devil; and that the hare which they had chased was no other than the foe of man in disguise. This reasonable and self-evident a.s.sumption quite satisfied their merry master, who deemed himself well compensated for his loss by the hearty laugh he enjoyed.

Twm entered Llandovery, leading his white ox in triumph; having tied together several silk handkerchiefs of various colours and thrown them across its horns, while the head and neck were adorned with a gay garland, formed of a profusion of wild flowers. Loud were the huzzas and laughter with which he was received by the juvenile part of the population of Llandovery; not one of whom enjoyed the sight more than the good-humoured Prothero, who cheerfully paid the bet, and from a tavern window had a full view of the scene, which he declared excited his laughter till his heart and sides ached with the agreeable convulsion.

Our hero loved variety; without altogether alienating his affections from beef and mutton, he evinced a very ardent pa.s.sion for horse-flesh; and pursued it with all the fiery zest of a first-love, when impeded by difficulties the most insurmountable. The lady of Ystrad Fin still sitting on his heart like a night-mare, and pinching it with pain, rendered him, however amusing to others, miserable enough within himself.

La.s.situde, chagrin, and bitterness, often betrayed themselves in his countenance and manners, and were only transiently removed by the hilarity of the company with which he mixed, or the freaks which he played in his ill-combined humours of mirth and sorrow. Reckless of consequences, he now entered into follies less innocent than hitherto detailed, led to them more by a spirit of youthful wildness than any really criminal intention.

Being one day at Machynlleth, Montgomeryshire, he saw his old enemy, Evans of Tregaron, riding into the town on a fine grey horse; he determined in an instant that he would deprive him of a property which he deemed too good for such a churl; and as self-will was with him the sole ruling power that claimed either his attention or obedience, the affair was at once settled. Off rode the dauntless Twm, on the parson's horse, to Welshpool fair, where he soon found a purchaser for it, and received the amount in hard cash. The new proprietor of the grey steed was well pleased with his bargain, and Twm took a generous pleasure in making him still happier, by descanting further on the n.o.ble creature's merits, which, certainly, was very generous, as he was not interested in vaunting its qualities. "I protest to you, in honesty and truth," said he with much earnestness, "you have a greater bargain than you imagine; as I was not at all anxious to sell him, I have omitted to inform you of half his good points: he is capable of performing such wonderful feats as you never saw or heard of." "You don't say so!" exclaimed the elated purchaser, staring alternately at his horse and in the face of our hero.

"A fact I a.s.sure you," cries Twm, with the most sober face imaginable; "and if you don't believe me, I'll convince you in a moment, if you will allow me to mount him." "Oh certainly, with many thanks," quoth the delighted Jemmy Green of past days. Twm very leisurely mounted, and after a variety of postures and curvetings, gradually got out of the fair into the high road; suddenly giving spur and rein to the "gallant steed,"

he astonished his new friend by his disappearance. The "green one" had to confess with bitterness of heart that the jockey had certainly kept his word, as he shewed him such a trick as he never before saw or heard of.

Twm had scarcely been seated at the Owen Glendower, on his return to Llandovery, when a person called upon him, who described himself as a small farmer living in the neighbourhood, his name Morgan Thomas, and having heard so much of his cleverness, he came to consult him on an affair of great weight. He had been sadly annoyed, he said, by the continual trespa.s.sing of a certain squire's pigeons on his ground, which made such a havoc amid his wheat, yearly, that the loss was grievous to him: he had computed his damages, and applied for the amount, for the four last years, reckoning that the forty pigeons would devour at least a bushel of wheat each, annually. The squire only laughed at his claims and complaints, telling him he might pound them, and be d-ned, if he liked, when he would pay the alledged damages, and not till then. "Now, to pound them I should like vastly," quoth Morgan Thomas, "but without the squire's polite invitation to be d-ned at the same time. But," added the poor farmer, "pounding pigeons, I look upon as impossible; yet as you have the fame of performing feats no less wonderful, if you will pound those mischievous pigeons for me, I will engage to give you half the amount of my claims." "Agreed!" cried Twm, and grasped his hand, in token that he undertook the task. He sent a quant.i.ty of rum to the farmer's, next morning, and steeped in it a peck of wheat, which he afterwards scattered about the farm-yard. The pigeons came, as usual, and eagerly devouring the grain, each and all soon appeared as top-heavy as the veriest toss-pot in Carmarthenshire; and, like the said fraternity, incapable of returning home, they fell in a stupor on the ground. Our hero, a.s.sisted by the farmer, picked them up, tied their legs, and put the whole party in the pound. The squire, who was no other than Prothero the laughing magistrate, ever pleased with a jest, especially when cracked by our hero, immediately paid the farmer's demand; and Twm generously refused the proffered remuneration for his very effective a.s.sistance.

CHAP. XXV.

Twm composes and sends to his mistress his CYWYDD Y GOVID. Visits her in disguise, and obtains the solemn promise of her hand. Description of the romantic hill of Dinas, and the excavation in it, since called Twm Shon Catti's cave. Twm suspects himself jilted.

WHILE our hero was thus pursuing his vagaries, the unhappy lady of Ystrad Fin, who had not known a day's peace since his absence, was daily wavering between a resolution to send for him back, to bestow on him her hand, and a deference for her father and proud relatives, who insisted that if ever she married again, it should only be to a t.i.tle and fortune; by which they should themselves share in the honor. In the mean time information was brought to her, of his wild tricks and excesses, greatly exaggerated to his disadvantage, which gave that kind-hearted lady the greatest concern, as she conceived herself in part the auth.o.r.ess of his misfortunes. Twm, at the same time, felt that his tedious absence from the fair widow was no longer to be endured; and as he knew her conduct to be daily watched by her father's spies, he determined on paying her a visit in disguise. Previous to putting his design into execution, he composed and sent her the following poem, in which he dwells on, and over-rates his own misfortunes, in a strain calculated to move her tenderness in his favor.

CYWYDD Y GOVID. {208}

The outcast's forced ally is mine, Affliction is his name; It is a ruthless savage mate, And like a foe that's pale with hate, To crush me is his aim: His cruel shafts are fiercely hurl'd, He forced me friendless on the world.

If forward, seeking good, I wend, My eager steps out-strips the fiend; If backward, I retreat from ill, My cruel foe arrests me still; I seek the flood, to end despair.

Relentless Govid meets me there, And tells of endless pangs for pride, The wages of the suicide.

Fell Govid's mighty in the land, His children are a horrid band, Who joy in hapless man's distress, Lo, one is Debt-one Nakedness;- And Need against me doth combine, (Fierce Govid's loveless concubine); And Care, that knows not how to yearn, Is Govid's consort, keen and stern: And thus this family of ill, E'er bruise my heart and bruise my will.

Though lost to me the tranquil day, My vanquisher I hope to slay, The fierce enormous giant fiend No more the heart of Twm shall rend, If thou, my lady-love! but smile, Thou gentle fair, devoid of guile- Thou darling object of my choice, Oh bless me with a.s.sentive voice, And soon shall Govid lay his length, A corse! struck down by Rapture's strength.

Lady Devereux had read this little poem over the third time, and repeatedly wiped the tears from her beautiful blue eyes, when the maid entered her chamber, and in a tone of complaint informed her mistress that there was a very importunate and troublesome gypsy in the kitchen, who, after having told the fortunes of all the servants in the house, and partook of the usual hospitalities, insisted on seeing her, to tell also, she said, the fortune of the lady of the house. "I am not in a mood to relish such foolery now, so send her about her business," answered the lady, in a tone more sorrowful than angry. "It is quite useless,"

replied the girl, "to attempt to send her away; big Evan the gardener tried to take her by the shoulders, and turn her out by force, but she whirled round, grasped him by the arms, tripped up his heels, and laid him in a moment on the floor. There she sits in the kitchen, and vows she will not budge from thence for either man or woman, till she sees the lady of Ystrad Fin, whom she loves, she says, dearer than her life, and would not for millions harm a hair of her head." Although too deeply absorbed in sorrow to have her curiosity much excited, she went down stairs, and approaching the sibyl, who had now taken her station in the hall, asked, "What do you want, my good woman?"-"To tell you," answered she, "not your fortune, but what may be your fortune if you choose."

"Let me hear then," said the lady of Ystrad Fin, with a faint incredulous smile, walking before her, at the same time, into a little back parlour.

Before she could seat herself, the apparent gypsy caught her right hand wrist, and looking round, whispered in her ear,

"To heal your torn bosom, and ease every smart, Oh take-he's before you-the youth of your heart."

The colour fled the fair widow's cheeks, and in a moment she sank in a swoon in her lover's arms. Soon recovering, she desired her maid to deny her to every body that called, "as," added she with a smile, "I have particular business with the gypsy." A scene of tears and tenderness ensued; when Twm, with the utmost fervour, urged his suit with the young widow. She replied that her father had insisted on, and received her promise, that she would wed no being but who either bore a t.i.tle, or stood within a relative to one. "You did well," replied our hero, with the most impudent and easy confidence, "and your promise, so far from militating against me, is really in my favor; for am not I the son of a baronet? his natural child, 'tis true, but still his son; and you would break no promise to your father in marrying me; but if you did, so much the better, for a bad promise is better broke than kept. I have friends at this moment, who are doing their utmost to move my father, Sir John Wynne of Gwydir, to own me publicly for his right worthy son; and if he does not, the loss is his, for I shall certainly disown him else for a father, and claim the parentage of some greater man."

Twm's rattling a.s.sertions in this respect were more true than he was himself aware; for his friend Prothero, the merry magistrate, learning accidentally, by a chance rencontre with Squire Gras.p.a.cre, many particulars of his birth, and the hardships of his neglected childhood, determined, if possible, to get him righted at last.

Twm, as he had predetermined, used the present _tete-a-tete_ to some purpose, and soon succeeded in obtaining from the fair object of his hopes a decisive promise that she would be his forever. The joy of our hero knew no bounds, nor did the lady very strenuously resist his rapturous embraces; but seemed to find her heart relieved by the resolution she had come to, that now, forever, put an end to the conflicting doubts as to her future course, which had so long torn her heart, and banished her peace.

Noon was now verging into evening, and at the earnest request of his mistress, Twm consented, to save appearances, immediately to quit her roof. She directed him to wait for her, and her confidential friend Miss Meredith, at the entrance to the ancient cave on the top of Dinas, which was the name of the conical hill exactly fronting the mansion of Ystrad Fin. He accordingly took his departure; and winding round the base of Dinas, he crossed the river Towey, which, being then in summer, was there little more than a brook. After walking over a couple of fields, and a piece of rough common, he had to cross the Towey once more, when he commenced his ascent at the only part of this very steep hill where it was possible to climb. During his former stay at Ystrad Fin, this wildly romantic height had been his favorite haunt, as the cave in its side was the greatest object of his wonder. It was, in fact, a mighty mound, that bore all the appearance of having been, at the period of its formation, convulsed by an earthquake, and in the height of nature's tremendous heavings, suddenly arrested and becalmed, even while the huge crags were in the act of tumbling down its steep sides. A narrow valley circled its base, and the mountains around of equal height with itself, separated only by this deep and scanty dell, seemed as if rent from it, during the supposed convulsion of the earth, and Dinas left alone, an interesting monument of the memorable event. The surface of the acclivous ground was so speckled with huge loose stones, that it was dangerous to hold by them in ascending, as the slightest impetus would roll them downward.

Twm, at one time, when a.s.sisting his mistress to climb the steep sides of Dinas, in his wild way said, that he had no doubt but an earthquake had turned the bosom of the hill inside out, so that no secret could be therein concealed; archly insinuating that he trusted the time would soon come when without so violent a process, her own fair bosom would be equally open to him, while it rejected the stony barriers that then stood between him and her heart.

The entrance into this excavated work was no less singular that the pet.i.te cave itself. It was through a narrow aperture, formed of two immense slate rocks that faced each other, and the s.p.a.ce between them narrower at the bottom than the top, so that the pa.s.sage could be entered only sideways, with the figure inclined forward, according to the slant of the rocks: a thin person being barely able to make his way in, while a man of some rotundity might also succeed, by rising on his toes, and forcing himself upwards. Between these rocks of entrance, a ma.s.sive stone block was wedged at the top, so that it formed a rude and faint resemblance of an arch. After _sidling_ so far through a comparatively long pa.s.sage, it was no small surprise to find that it led to so small a cave; scarcely large enough to shelter three persons huddled close together, from a shower of rain. What it wanted in breadth, in possessed however in height, as it ran up like a chimney, to the alt.i.tude of forty five feet, and was open at the top to the very summit of the mount, forming a skylight to the _room_ below. Although the little cave was deficient of a solid roof, a very rural one was formed by the large tufts of heather, and fern, which sprung through the crevices of the rocks; the whole being surmounted by the pendant branch of a dwarf oak, that with many other trees stood like a crown on the elevated head of Dinas.

However singular the interior of this cave might appear to our hero, he found a superior pleasure in examining the grand combinations that graced its exterior. There he saw, with never satiated delight and wonder, objects of the most romantic character, curiously united here near the junction of three counties. The rocky Dinas, with its many inaccessible sides, besides the loose crags before mentioned, was partially covered with aged dwarfish trees, all bending in the same direction; many with their heads broken by tempests, but still throwing out fantastic-looking branches, while others, stark, sere, and shrouded in grey moss, were things that seasons knew not.

The opposite mountain, called Maesmaddegan, facing the entrance of the cave, was more gaily bedecked with underwood, birch, oak, and the mountain ash; while the junction of the rivers Towey and Dorthea, {214} enlivened the gloom caused by the deep gulfs which separated Dinas from the parent mountain.

However interesting these objects might formerly have been to Twm, he looked now only in one direction,-towards the spot where he might catch the earliest glimpse of his approaching mistress. Out of all patience at her long delay, he now began to wonder at the cause of it, when at length, to his great dismay, he saw _one_ female hurrying on, and her not the right one, although the faithful Miss Meredith. Having reached the side of the river, which separated her from the base of Dinas, and finding that he was watching her, she placed a paper on the rock and a stone upon it, then kissing her hand to him, sportively, she turned about, and hastened homeward with the utmost precipitation. In his eagerness to overtake her, Twm attempted to run down the declivity, but soon lost his footing, sliding and rolling down several yards, by which he was for a few moments rather stunned. Losing all hope of catching his mistress's confidante, to learn the cause of her non-appearance, according to promise, he applied to the paper on the rock, which he found to be a note hastily scrawled with a pencil, containing merely these words-"My father has unexpectedly arrived, with several of his friends-can't see you till at Llandovery on fair day. Yours ever."-"By the Lord!" muttered Twm to himself, "if this is a coquette's trick which she puts on me, it will avail her nothing in the end;-mine she is, by promise, and mine she shall be, in spite of the devil, and all her Brecknockshire friends to boot." Determined to bring his affairs with the widow to a speedy crisis, he changed his clothes, and soon made his way to Llandovery.

CHAP. XXVI.

Twm's vagaries and disguises at Llandovery fair. The adventure of the bale of flannel and the iron pot. Quotations from Catwg the wise. Twm discovered. A strange catastrophe.

THE day of Llandovery fair arrived; and Twm, who calculated nearly as much on the amus.e.m.e.nt he intended to create on this occasion for himself, as with meeting his mistress, determined that the grey horse should become the hero of another adventure. Much to their credit, the neighbouring gentry had recently opened a subscription for rebuilding between thirty and forty poor people's houses, which had unfortunately been burnt down; and our hero resolved that every farthing gained by the grey horse, or otherwise, clandestinely, should be appropriated to this laudable purpose. It was no small satisfaction to him to find that while it mortified the purse-proud vanity of the haughty squires to see so large a sum attached to his name, it had the good effect of increasing their contributions, resolved not to be out-done, in money matters at least, by so obscure a personage as Twm.

For the purpose here named he a.s.sumed the garb and manner of the most absolute lout that ever trudged after a plough tail. His feet were thrust into a very heavy pair of clogs, or wooden-soled shoes, which being stiff and large, maintained such a haughty independence of the inmates, as to need being tied on with a hay-band. His legs were enveloped in a pair of wheat-stalk leggings, or bands of twisted straw, winding round and round, and covering them from the knee to the ankle. A raw hairy cow-hide formed the material of his _inexpressibles_, which were loose, like trowsers cut off at the knee; and his jerkin was of a brick-dust red, with black stripes, like the faded garb of the old Carmarthenshire women. A load of red locks, straight as a bunch of candles, hung dangling behind, but in front rather matted and entangled, quite innocent of the slightest acquaintance with that useful article, a comb: the whole surmounted with a soldier's cast-off Monmouth cap, so highly varnished with grease, as to appear water-proof. Without any apology for a waistcoat, he wore a blue flannel shirt, striped with white, open from the chin to the waistband, which answered the purpose of a cupboard, to contain his enormous cargo of bread and cheese and leeks, which, as he was continually drawing upon his store, stood a chance of soon becoming wholly inside pa.s.sengers. Added to this, his b.o.o.by gait, and stupid vacant stare was such, that his most intimate acquaintance might have pa.s.sed him by as a stranger.

Instead of entering the horse-fair, he stood with his dainty steed of grey at the entrance of the town, and munched his bread and cheese, apparently careless whether a purchaser appeared or not. Many persons, in pa.s.sing by, gazed with wonder at this piece of cloddish rusticity, and asked if the horse was for sale; but receiving such drivelling and dolt-like answers, it became a matter of wonder who could have intrusted their property to such an oaf.

Just as the ground was once more cleared of gazing idlers and unprofitable querists, a gentleman, well mounted on a chesnut-coloured hunter, entered the town, and cast an eager eye at the grey horse. Twm recognized him at a glance as a Breconshire magistrate, named Powell, one of the many rejected admirers of the lady of Ystrad Fin; riding up to our hero, he asked if the horse was for sale. Twm answered in broken English, imitating the dialect of the lower cla.s.s, "I don't no but it iss, if I can get somebody that iss not wice, look you, somebody that was fools to buy him." "But why," asked the gentleman, "don't you take him into the horse-fair?" "Why indeed to goodness," answered Twm, "I was shame to take him there; for look you, he ha.s.s a fault on him, and I do not find in my heart and my conscience to take honest pipple in with a horse that has a fault upon him, for all master did send me here to sell him." "Well, and what is this mighty fault!" asked the stranger, smiling. "Why indeed to goodness and mercy," replied Twm, "it was a fault that do spoil him-it was a fault that-" "But what _is_ the fault?"

asked the Breconshire magistrate impatiently: "give it a name man." "Why indeed to goodness," replied the scrupulous horse-dealer, "I will tell you like an honest cristan man, without more worts about it; I will make my sacraments and bible oaths"-"I don't ask your oath," cried Powell, almost out of humour, "merely tell me in a word, what ails the horse?"

"Indeed and upon my sole and conscience to boot, I can't say what do ail him." "You don't?" cried Powell in an angry tone, and looking as surprised and wroth as might be expected from a proud Breconshire magistrate. "Confound me if I do," replied Twm, "but I will tell you why he wa.s.s no good to master; it wa.s.s this-Master iss a parson, a great parson, a gentleman parson, not a poor curate, one mister Evans, Rector of Tregaron, and the white hairs do come off the grey horse here, and stick upon his best black coat and breeches; and that wa.s.s his fault."

It is needless to add that the rising choler of the fiery Powell immediately subsided, and laying no particular stress on this singular blemish, purchased the grey horse, and paid for it at once, apparently glad to escape from the tedious fooleries of the strange horse-dealer.

Anxious to discover his mistress, he chose another disguise, not daring to commune with her in his own proper person. He now appeared in a sober grey suit, shining bra.s.s buckles, stockings of the wool of a black sheep, and a knitted Welsh wig of the same, that fitted him like a skull-cap, and concealed every lock of his hair. Thus arrayed, he presented the appearance of a grave puritanical mountain farmer, from the most remote district of Cardiganshire. After gazing awhile at the motley train that const.i.tute a fair, in a Welsh country town, he noticed a well known old crone, who had the reputation of being exceedingly covetous and disagreeable. Lean, yellow, and decrepid, her ferret-eyes glanced eagerly about for a customer, as she held beneath her arm a large roll of stout striped flannel. Twm, un.o.bserved, took his stand behind her, and dexterously st.i.tching her bale to his coat, he, with a sudden jerk, transferred it from the old woman's grasp to his own. Her wonder and dismay was unutterable. Elbowed and toed by the bustling crowd who were pa.s.sing to and fro, she knew not who to vent her spleen upon; but, in utter despair, set up a tremendous howl, as a requiem for her beloved departed. Instead of seeking the a.s.sistance of a light pair of heels, Twm scarcely moved a yard, but drew from his pocket a little black lighted tobacco-pipe, and puffed a cloud with admirable coolness, while his right arm lovingly embraced the bale of flannel. Roused by the old beldame's outrageous expressions of grief and fury, he moved up to her with apparent concern, and asked in a very pathetic tone, the cause of her sorrow, which she related with many curses, sobs, and furious exclamations. Shocked at her impiety and want of resignation, Twm took upon him to rebuke her, and edified her much, by an extempore discourse on the virtue of patience; a.s.suring her she ought to thank heaven that she was robbed, as it was a most striking proof she was not a neglected being. In conclusion, he remarked, that fairs and markets in these degenerate days were so sadly infested with rogues and vagabonds, that an honest person was completely encompa.s.sed by dangers. "Now for my part,"

continued he, "I never enter such places without previously sewing my goods to my clothes, which you ought also to have done, in this manner"-shewing, at the same time, the roll beneath his arm, which he thought the old crone's eye had glanced on, with something like a light shadow of suspicion, that however instantly vanished, on this notable display and explanation.