While sitting with the aforesaid trio, some time after, paying their devotions to the bottle, at the Three Cocks, our hero contrived to bring Powell, who had hitherto fought shy, into a bet with him. He declared that a stranger as he was, at Brecon, he firmly believed he could command, and be obeyed there, with greater promptitude than himself, although a justice of the peace and quorum. “I’ll lay you twenty pounds to the contrary,” cried the magistrate. “Done!” replied Twm, “and we can prove it without quitting this room, by opening the window, and practising on one of those people opposite.” “Let it be on yonder crockery-ware man, who is the most conspicuous,” said Powell, and Twm, of course, could have no possible objection. The magistrate opened the window, and called in a tone of authority, “Come here, you fellow; go directly to the Black Lion, and tell the landlord to let you have Justice Powell’s black mare, and bring her here to me.” “I can’t quit my goods, sir,” said Roger, “or I would willingly oblige you.” “I tell you, fellow, do as I order you, or I shall kick you and your ware out of the town,” said Powell in a blustering tone, and with a look the most terrifying that he could assume. Roger repeated his former answer; and when the magistrate increased his threats, he burst out into a rude laugh, and, without further deference, said, he really believed that his worship was drunk: this was enough, and the worthy magistrate felt himself completely put down. Our wag now took his turn, and commenced with him: “I say, fellow, did’st thou ever see, or hear of Twm Shôn Catti?” “Yes,” replied Roger, “often at Llandovery, once at Cardigan, and now I see him before me at Brecon.” “Well then,” continued Twm, “I order thee to give us a dance, in the middle of thy crockery.” “With all my heart, if _you_ order it, for I should dread to disobey Twm Shôn Catti more than twenty times my loss.” On which he jumped, capered, and danced, in the midst of his brittle commodities, kicking and treading the dishes, pans, basins, and other articles, to powder beneath his feet. “By the Lord, thou art a strange fellow;” said Powell, as he paid him down the amount of his forfeit; “and I foresee that there’s much more luck for thee than thou dreamest of: and I confidently anticipate what will surely come to pass in thy favour, my Cardiganian hero.”