In the terraced gardens is preserved the ferrymen’s horn, but the ferrymen are dead and gone, and even their huts, built on the rocks of the Anglesey shore, are in ruins. There stands on that rocky landing-place an old inn, now called the “Cambria,” but in the days of the ferry known as the “Three Tuns.” It is a romantic spot, romantic with all the pathos of a tale that is told. From the wrought-iron bracket of the inn, long without a sign, to the deserted and roofless huts and the slippery, sea-weedy rocks, everything tells of a vanished order of things. A few ancients gossip of what their fathers and grandfathers told them of the times when exhausted passengers climbed from the slimy rocks at the water’s edge to the shelter of the inn, and of the old custom of swimming the cattle across the Straits at low water, from the island of Ynys-y-Moch that now supports one of the bridge-towers; but even the bridge is now become something of an antiquity, and the ferry well-nigh forgot. A well-authenticated story of it is still remembered. It tells how an attorney, on the ground of having booked through to London, refused to pay the penny demanded by the ferrymen for taking his portmanteau across, and how it was accordingly detained until the Mail had left. The lawyer then paid the disputed penny and ordered out a chaise and four to London. Arrived there, he brought an action against the proprietors of the Mail, and recovered all his expenses and compensation for loss of time. The Judge expressed his opinion that the plaintiff was a benefactor to his country, a view not likely to be taken in these times of one who would spend £50 and perhaps five times that amount in litigation rather than pay a penny. The ferry was not superseded without some little contention. It had been the property, time out of mind, of the Williams family, of Plas Issa, Conway. Leased to an ancestral John Williams by Queen Elizabeth, for £3 6_s._ 8_d._ a year, there is no knowing how far back beyond that time the family interest had reached. Government offered a sum in compensation when the bridge was building, but the amount was not considered sufficient, and the question was referred to the Beaumaris Assizes, where the average takings of the last twelve years were stated to have been £885 18_s._ per annum. In the result, Miss Williams, the representative of the family, was awarded £26,557, representing thirty years’ purchase, and she, or rather her husband, for she married in the meanwhile, was paid that sum on the day the Bridge was opened. [Illustration: THE OLD LANDING-PLACE ON THE ANGLESEY SHORE.]