“Plenty, Mr., plenty. Welsh flocked over to Pensilvany even as far back as the time of William Penn, who, as you know, Mr., was the first founder of the Pensilvany State. And that puts me in mind that there is a curious account extant of the adventures of one of the old Welsh settlers in Pensilvania. It is to be found in a letter in an old Welsh book. The letter is dated 1705, and is from one Huw Jones, born of Welsh parents in Pensilvany country to a cousin of his of the same name, residing in the neighbourhood of this very town of Bala in Merionethshire where you and I, Mr., now are. It is in answer to certain inquiries made by the cousin, and is written in pure old Welsh language. It gives an account of how the writer’s father left this neighbourhood to go to Pensilvania; how he embarked on board the ship _William Pen_; how he was thirty weeks on the voyage from the Thames to the Delaware. Only think, Mr., of a ship now-a-days being thirty weeks on the passage from the Thames to the Delaware river; how he learnt the English language on the voyage; how he and his companions nearly perished with hunger in the wild wood after they landed; how Pensilvania city was built; how he became a farmer and married a Welsh woman, the widow of a Welshman from shire Denbigh, by whom he had the writer and several other children; how the father used to talk to his children about his native region, and the places round about Bala, and fill their breasts with longing for the land of their fathers; and finally how the old man died, leaving his children and their mother in prosperous circumstances. It is a wonderful letter, Mr., all written in the pure old Welsh language.” “I say, Mr., you are a cute one, and know a thing or two. I suppose Welsh was the first language you learnt, like myself?” “No, it wasn’t—I like to speak the truth—never took to either speaking or reading the Welsh language till I was past sixteen.” “’Stonishing! but see the force of blood at last. In any line of business?” “No, Mr., can’t say I am.” “Have money in your pocket, and travel for pleasure. Come to see father’s land.” “Come to see old Wales. And what brings you here, Hiraeth?” “That’s longing. No, not exactly. Came over to England to see what I could do. Got in with house at Liverpool in the drapery business. Travel for it hereabouts, having connections and speaking the language. Do branch business here for a banking-house besides. Manage to get on smartly.” “You look a smart un. But don’t you find it sometimes hard to compete with English travellers in the drapery line?” “I guess not. English travellers! set of nat’rals. Don’t know the language and nothing else. Could whip a dozen any day. Regularly flummox them.” “You do, Mr.? Ah, I see you’re a cute un. Glad to have met you.” “I say, Mr., you have not told me from what county your forefathers were.” “From Norfolk and Cornwall counties.” “Didn’t know there were such counties in Wales.”