“So I have been,” said the man in grey, “I have been kept out of the eisteddfodau—and then—what do you think? That fellow the editor of the _Times_—” “O,” said I, “if you have anything to do with the editor of the _Times_ you may, of course, expect nothing but shabby treatment, but what business could you have with him?” “Why I sent him some pennillion for insertion, and he did not insert them.” “Were they in Welsh or English?” “In Welsh, of course.” “Well, then the man had some excuse for disregarding them—because you know the _Times_ is written in English.” “O, you mean the London _Times_,” said the man in grey. “Pooh! I did not allude to that trumpery journal, but the Liverpool _Times_, the Amserau. I sent some pennillion to the editor for insertion and he did not insert them. Peth a clwir cenfigen yn Saesneg?” “We call cenfigen in English envy,” said I; “but as I told you before, envy will not always prevail.” “You cannot imagine how pleased I am with your company,” said the man in grey. “Landlord, landlord!” “The greatest prydydd,” said the man of the tattered hat, “the greatest prydydd.” “Pray don’t order any more on my account,” said I, “as you see my glass is still full. I am about to start for Caer Gybi. Pray where are you bound for?” “For Bangor,” said the man in grey. “I am going to the market.” “Then I would advise you to lose no time,” said I, “or you will infallibly be too late; it must now be one o’clock.” “There is no market to-day,” said the man in grey, “the market is to-morrow, which is Saturday. I like to take things leisurely, on which account, when I go to market, I generally set out the day before, in order that I may enjoy myself upon the road. I feel myself so happy here that I shall not stir till the evening. Now pray stay with me and my friend till then.” “I cannot,” said I, “if I stay longer here I shall never reach Caer Gybi to-night. But allow me to ask whether your business at L— will not suffer by your spending so much time on the road to market?” “My wife takes care of the business whilst I am away,” said the man in grey, “so it won’t suffer much. Indeed it is she who chiefly conducts the business of the inn. I spend a good deal of time from home, for besides being a bard and innkeeper, I must tell you I am a horse-dealer and a jobber, and if I go to Bangor it is in the hope of purchasing a horse or pig worth the money.” “And is your friend going to market too?” said I. “My friend goes with me to assist me and bear me company. If I buy a pig he will help me to drive it home; if a horse, he will get up upon its back behind me. I might perhaps do without him, but I enjoy his company highly. He is sometimes rather indiscreet, but I do assure you he is exceedingly clever.” “The greatest prydydd,” said the man of the bulged shoe, “the greatest prydydd in the world.”