It was then, in that very moment, that Howell Gruffydd's face was seen to change. He stopped, listening. Beyond the hot cuplike hollow in which they were assembled was another sunken way, and along this way somebody was approaching. Probably in complete unconsciousness that any hearer was at hand, this somebody was singing softly as he came. It was Tommy, the youngest of the Kerrs, and he was singing to himself, in very bad Welsh, _Glan Meddwdod Mwyn_. Now this song is one of the less reputable songs of Wales. The English drinking song usually contents itself with extolling the mere convivial act, drawing a decent veil over the lamentable effects of that act; but even in its title _Glan Meddwdod Mwyn_ (which words mean _Fair, Kind Drunkenness_) has no such reticence. It depicts ... but you can see the difference for yourself. No wonder it froze the words on Howell Gruffydd's lips. In the singer's complete unconsciousness that he was not alone lay the whole sting. The malice, the intent, the hateful Lancashire humour of the Kerrs they had had before, but not _this_ home-thrust with a weapon they themselves had provided! Tommy might just as well have climbed the hummock and told them that, since their language provided equally for these eventualities, they were no better than anyone else.... An English drunkard, to grub in the lees of their own language like this!---- And little Hugh Morgan had sniggered!---- The unseen Tommy and his (their) song passed on towards the Hafod Unos. Then Howell bestirred himself again. "There, now!" he said; "what had he just been tell-ing them? Indeed, that was opp-por-tune, whatever!" ... But, though he strove to hide it, there was a hollowness now in his exhortation. He felt as if he had been building a wall against a contagion that crept in upon the invisible air. If Thomas Kerr knew _Glan Meddwdod Mwyn_ he might also know viler ditties still; if little Hugh Morgan, whom he had thought pure, had sniggered at _Glan Meddwdod_ he might guffaw outright at the baser version of _Sospan Bach_.... It could only (Howell thought) be original sin.... It was at least a little balm to him to hear the fervour with which Eesaac Oliver once more led the singing of _Joyful, Joyful_. And, by the way (speaking of songs), Eesaac Oliver's choice of the narrow and difficult path had already involved him in a persecution in which song played a minor part. This persecution was at the hands of John Willie Garden. For, in an unguarded moment, Eesaac Oliver had confided to John Willie his plans for his career; and since then the unfeeling John Willie, on his way to Railhead and debauchery, had held over him the song that contains the lines:-- "_He wass go to Je-sus College For to try to get some knowledge---- Wass you ever see," etc. etc._ John Willie, itching to get away from Pannal, could not understand why anybody wanted to go to Jesus, Aberystwith, or any other College.