“About two months, sir, and then a terrible fright they caused me.” “How was that?” “I will tell you, sir; I had been across the Berwyn to carry home a piece of weaving work to a person who employs me. It was night as I returned, and when I was about half-way down the hill, at a place which is called Allt Paddy, because the Gwyddelod are in the habit of taking up their quarters there, I came upon a gang of them, who had come there and camped and lighted their fire, whilst I was on the other side of the hill. There were nearly twenty of them, men and women, and amongst the rest was a man standing naked in a tub of water with two women stroking him down with clouts. He was a large fierce-looking fellow, and his body, on which the flame of the fire glittered, was nearly covered with red hair. I never saw such a sight. As I passed they glared at me and talked violently in their Paddy Gwyddel, but did not offer to molest me. I hastened down the hill, and right glad I was when I found myself safe and sound at my house in Llangollen, with my money in my pocket, for I had several shillings there, which the man across the hill had paid me for the work which I had done.” CHAPTER XV The Turf Tavern—Don’t Understand—The Best Welsh—The Maids of Merion—Old and New—Ruthyn—The Ash Yggdrasill. We now emerged from the rough and narrow way which we had followed for some miles, upon one much wider, and more commodious, which my guide told me was the coach road from Wrexham to Ruthyn, and going on a little farther we came to an avenue of trees which shaded the road. It was chiefly composed of ash, sycamore, and birch, and looked delightfully cool and shady. I asked my guide if it belonged to any gentleman’s house. He told me that it did not, but to a public-house, called Tafarn Tywarch, which stood near the end, a little way off the road. “Why is it called Tafarn Tywarch?” said I, struck by the name, which signifies “the tavern of turf.” “It was called so, sir,” said John, “because it was originally merely a turf hovel, though at present it consists of good brick and mortar.” “Can we breakfast there,” said I, “for I feel both hungry and thirsty?” “O, yes, sir,” said John, “I have heard there is good cheese and cwrw there.” We turned off to the “tafarn,” which was a decent public-house of rather an antiquated appearance. We entered a sanded kitchen, and sat down by a large oaken table. “Please to bring us some bread, cheese and ale,” said I in Welsh to an elderly woman, who was moving about. “Sar?” said she. “Bring us some bread, cheese and ale,” I repeated in Welsh. “I do not understand you, sar,” said she in English. “Are you Welsh?” said I in English. “Yes, I am Welsh!” “And can you speak Welsh?” “O, yes, and the best.” “Then why did you not bring what I asked for?” “Because I did not understand you.” “Tell her,” said I to John Jones, “to bring us some bread, cheese and ale.”