We awoke: ’twas a lovely morning, with the earliest sun shining brightly in through the lattice; and we thought in our emotion to spring out of bed. Off went the bed-clothes at a bound, and we sat erect!—but how shall we describe our horror? We had gone to bed more or less white—more or less European in the tinge of our skin: we awoke of a glaring red, or, where the crimson dye was less vivid, we bore a mottled appearance, like a speckled toad. And, as Gulliver once lay among the Lilliputians, who ran from him, on his stirring, in frightened thousands, so there were now our accursed night visitants scampering away from us in every direction, possible and impossible, by thousands—nay, by myriads. The bed was literally _brown_ with them; and ever, as we moved a limb, fresh gangs of latent devourers fled from beneath, and scoured across the sheets. They had lost the supernatural form our dreams had given them, and assumed the more homely one of ordinary fleas—of fleas of all sizes from a pea to a pin’s head! Old Nereus gave us some relief, for we rushed into his arms as soon as doors could be opened, and bolts forced out of their sockets; but, for many a long day after, we bore about us a vivid impression of our visitants at Aberdaron. Do not, therefore, venture to sleep in a Welsh cottage; nor scarcely in a farm-house: trust yourself only to an inn,—your chances of sound rest and an untenanted bed are at least more favourable there;—but if ever you are benighted and forced to remain away from headquarters, make up your mind fairly to bivouac it amid the fern and the heather, or else sit up at your vigils by your host’s fire-side. The chirping cricket and the purring cat shall then be your sole companions. We might detain you till doomsday with these “incidents of travel;” but we shall leave you to make your own experiments;—yet, ere you venture into the wilds of Taffyland, peruse and carry with you for your use and edification the following:— TRIADS FOR TRAVELLERS. Three mountains that every body goes up: Snowdon, Cadair Idris, and Penmaen Mawr. Three mountains that nobody will repent going up: Holyhead Mountain, Carn Madryn, and the Breiddin. Three mountains that nobody goes up: Plinlimmon, Arrenig, and Carnedd Llewelyn. Three castles that every body sees: Caernarvon, Conwy, and Harlech. Three castles that every body ought to see: Beaumarais, Criccaeth, and Denbigh. Three castles that nobody sees: Flint, Dolwyddelan, and Castell Prysor. Three wells that every body should go and drink from: Holywell, Wygfair, and Ffynnon Beuno. The three great waterfalls of Caernarvonshire: Rhaiadr-y-Wenol, the Falls of the Conwy, and the Falls of the Ogwen. The three great waterfalls of Merionethshire: Pistill-y-Cain, Rhaiadr-y-Mawddach, and Rhaiadr ddu. The three grandest scenes in Wales: Llyn Idwal, Y-Glas Llyn, and Pen-y-Cil.