“O yes, sir, at least with some of them. I have read the Marwnad on Barbara Middleton; and likewise the piece on Oliver and his men. Ah, it is a funny piece that—he did not like Oliver nor his men.” “Of what profession are you?” said I; “are you a schoolmaster or apothecary?” “Neither, sir, neither; I am merely a poor shoemaker.” “You know a great deal for a shoemaker,” said I. “Ah, sir; there are many shoemakers in Wales who know much more than I.” “But not in England,” said I. “Well, farewell.” “Farewell, sir. When you have any boots to mend, or shoes, sir—I shall be happy to serve you.” “I do not live in these parts,” said I. “No, sir; but you are coming to live here.” “How do you know that?” said I. “I know it very well, sir; you left these parts very young, and went far away—to the East Indies, sir, where you made a large fortune in the medical line, sir; you are now coming back to your own valley, where you will buy a property, and settle down, and try to recover your language, sir, and your health, sir; for you are not the person you pretend to be, sir; I know you very well, and shall be happy to work for you.” “Well,” said I, “if I ever settle down here, I shall be happy to employ you. Farewell.” I went back the way I had come, till I reached the little hamlet. Seeing a small public-house, I entered it—a good-looking woman, who met me in the passage, ushered me into a neat sanded kitchen, handed me a chair and inquired my commands; I sat down, and told her to bring me some ale; she brought it, and then seated herself by a bench close by the door. “Rather a quiet place this,” said I. “I have seen but two faces since I came over the hill, and yours is one.” “Rather too quiet, sir,” said the good woman; “one would wish to have more visitors.” “I suppose,” said I, “people from Llangollen occasionally come to visit you.” “Sometimes, sir, for curiosity’s sake; but very rarely—the way is very steep.” “Do the Tylwyth Teg ever pay you visits?” “The Tylwyth Teg, sir?” “Yes; the fairies. Do they never come to have a dance on the green sward in this neighbourhood?” “Very rarely, sir; indeed, I do not know how long it is since they have been seen.” “You have never seen them?” “I have not, sir; but I believe there are people living who have.” “Are corpse candles ever seen on the bank of that river?” “I have never heard of more than one being seen, sir, and that was at a place where a tinker was drowned a few nights after—there came down a flood, and the tinker in trying to cross by the usual ford was drowned.” “And did the candle prognosticate, I mean foreshow his death?” “It did, sir. When a person is to die, his candle is seen a few nights before the time of his death.” “Have you ever seen a corpse candle?”