Garthowen: A Story of a Welsh HomesteadRaine, Allen
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Garthowen: A Story of a Welsh Homestead
Raine, Allen
Wales -- Fiction
"Oh, presents for them at Garthowen; will I show them to you?" said the
sailor awkwardly, as he untied the mouth of the canvas bag. "Here's a
tie for my father, and a hymn-book for Ann, and here's a knife for
Will, and a pocket-book for Gwilym Morris, the preacher who is lodging
with them. And here," he said, opening a gaily-painted box, "is
something for little Morva," and he gently laid on the table a necklace
of iridescent shells which fell in three graduated rows.
"Oh! there's pretty!" said Mrs. Parry, and while she held the shining
shells in the red of the sun, again the doorway was darkened by the
entrance of two noisy, gaudily-dressed girls, who came flouncing up to
the table.
"Hello! Bella Lewis and Polly Jones, is it you? Where you come from
so early?" said Mrs. Parry.
"Come to see me, of course!" suggested the sailor.
"Come to see you and stop you going," said one of the girls. "Gethin
Owens, you _are_ more of a skulk than I took you for, though you are
rather shirky in your ways, if this is true what I hear about you."
"What?" said Gethin, replacing the necklace in the box.
"That you are going home for good, going to turn farmer and say
good-bye to the shipping and the docks." And as she spoke she laid her
hand on the box which Gethin was closing, and drew out its contents.
There was a greedy glitter in her bold eyes as she asked, "Who's that
for?" and she clasped it round her own neck, while Gethin's dark face
flushed.
"Couldn't look better than there," he answered gallantly, "so you keep
it, to remember me," and tying up his canvas bag he bade them all a
hurried good-bye.
Mrs. Parry followed him to the doorway with regretful farewells, for
she was losing a friend who had not only paid her well, but had been
kind to her delicate boy, and whose strong fist had often decided in
her favour a fight with her brutal husband.
"There you now," she said, in a confidential whisper and with a nudge
on Gethin's canvas bag, "there you are now; fool that you are! giving
such a thing as that to Bella Lewis! What did you pay for it, Gethin?
Shall I have it if I can get it from her? Why did you give it to her?
you said 'twas for little Morva--"
"Yes, it was," he said; "but d'ye think, woman, I would give it to
Morva after being on Bella Lewis's neck? No! that's why I am running
away in such a hurry, to buy her another, d'ye see, and Dei anwl, I
must make haste or else I'll be late on board. Good-bye, good-bye."
Mrs. Parry looked after him almost tenderly, but called out once more:
"Shall I have it if I can get it?"
"Yes, yes," shouted Gethin in return, and as he made his way through
the grimy, unsavoury street, he chuckled as he pictured the impending
scrimmage.
CHAPTER II
"GARTHOWEN"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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