My Neighbors: Stories of the Welsh People — John Shaqi
My Neighbors: Stories of the Welsh PeopleEvans, Caradoc
General
My Neighbors: Stories of the Welsh People
Evans, Caradoc
Wales -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
From dawn to sunset Abel stood on a hedge, waving his arms, shouting,
and mimicking the sound of gunning. Weary of his work he vowed a vow
that he would not keep on at it. He walked to Morfa and into his
mother's cottage; his mother listened to him, then she took a stick and
beat him until he could not rest nor move with ease.
"Break him in like a frisky colt, little man bach,"[1] said Anna to the
farmer. "Know you he is the son of Satan. Have I not told how the Bad
Man came to me in my sound sleep and was naughty with me?"
[Footnote 1: Dear little man. "Bach" is the Welsh masculine for "dear";
"fach" the Welsh feminine for "dear."]
But the farmer had compassion on Abel and dealt with him kindly, and
when Abel married he let him live in Tybach--the mud-walled,
straw-thatched, two-roomed house which is midway on the hill that goes
down from Synod Inn into Morfa--and he let him farm six acres of land.
The young man and his bride so labored that the people thereabout were
confounded; they stirred earlier and lay down later than any honest
folk; and they took more eggs and tubs of butter to market than even
Deinol, and their pigs fattened wondrously quick.
Twelve years did they live thus wise. For the woman these were years of
toil and child-bearing; after she had borne seven daughters, her sap
husked and dried up.
Now the spell of Abel's mourning was one of ill-fortune for Deinol, the
master of which was grown careless: hay rotted before it was gathered
and corn before it was reaped; potatoes were smitten by a blight, a
disease fell upon two cart-horses, and a heifer was drowned in the sea.
Then the farmer felt embittered, and by day and night he drank himself
drunk in the inns of Morfa.
Because he wanted Deinol, Abel brightened himself up: he wore whipcord
leggings over his short legs, and a preacher's coat over his long trunk,
a white and red patterned celluloid collar about his neck, and a bowler
hat on the back of his head; and his side-whiskers were trimmed in the
shape of a spade. He had joy of many widows and spinsters, to each of
whom he said: "There's a grief-livener you are," and all of whom he gave
over on hearing of the widow of Drefach. Her he married, and with the
money he got with her, and the money he borrowed, he bought Deinol. Soon
he was freed from the hands of his lender. He had eight horses and
twelve cows, and he had oxen and heifers, and pigs and hens, and he had
twenty-five sheep grazing on his moorland. As his birth and poverty had
caused him to be scorned, so now his gains caused him to be respected.
The preacher of Capel Dissenters in Morfa saluted him on the tramping
road and in shop, and brought him down from the gallery to the Big Seat.
Even if Abel had land, money, and honor, his vessel of contentment was
not filled until his wife went into her deathbed and gave him a son.
"Indeed me," he cried, "Benshamin his name shall be. The Large Maker
gives and a One He is for taking away."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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