"They are," said the landlord, "and there is plenty of business;two bad cases of poaching, Sir Watkin's keepers are up at court and hope to convict.""I am not come on sessions business," said I; "I am merely strolling a little about to see the country.""He is come from South Wales," said the old fellow in the frieze coat, to the landlord, "in order to see what kind of country the north is. Well at any rate he has seen a better country than his own.""How do you know that I come from South Wales?" said I.
"By your English," said the old fellow; "anybody may know you are South Welsh by your English; it is so cursedly bad. But let's hear you speak a little Welsh; then I shall be certain as to who you are."I did as he bade me, saying a few words in Welsh.
"There's Welsh," said the old fellow, "who but a South Welshman would talk Welsh in that manner? It's nearly as bad as your English."I asked him if he had ever been in South Wales.
"Yes," said he; "and a bad country I found it; just like the people.""If you take me for a South Welshman," said I, "you ought to speak civilly both of the South Welsh and their country.""I am merely paying tit for tat," said the old fellow. "When I was in South Wales your people laughed at my folks and country, so when I meet one of them here I serve him out as I was served out there."I made no reply to him, but addressing myself to the landlord inquired whether Huw Morris was not buried in Llan Silin churchyard. He replied in the affirmative.
"I should like to see his tomb," said I.
"Well, sir," said the landlord, "I shall be happy to show it to you whenever you please."Here again the old fellow put in his word.
"You never had a prydydd like Huw Morris in South Wales," said he;"nor Twm o'r Nant either."
"South Wales has produced good poets," said I.
"No, it hasn't," said the old fellow; "it never produced one. If it had, you wouldn't have needed to come here to see the grave of a poet; you would have found one at home."As he said these words he got up, took his stick, and seemed about to depart. Just then in burst a rabble rout of game-keepers and river-watchers who had come from the petty sessions, and were in high glee, the two poachers whom the landlord had mentioned having been convicted and heavily fined. Two or three of them were particularly boisterous, running against some of the guests who were sitting or standing in the kitchen, and pushing the landlord about, crying at the same time that they would stand by Sir Watkin to the last, and would never see him plundered. One of them, a fellow of about thirty, in a hairy cap, black coat, dirty yellow breeches, and dirty white top-boots, who was the most obstreperous of them all, at last came up to the old chap who disliked South Welshmen and tried to knock off his hat, swearing that he would stand by Sir Watkin; he, however, met a Tartar. The enemy of the South Welsh, like all crusty people, had lots of mettle, and with the stick which he held in his hand forthwith aimed a blow at the fellow's poll, which, had he not jumped back, would probably have broken it.
"I will not be insulted by you, you vagabond," said the old chap, "nor by Sir Watkin either; go and tell him so."The fellow looked sheepish, and turning away proceeded to take liberties with other people less dangerous to meddle with than old crabstick. He, however, soon desisted, and sat down evidently disconcerted.
"Were you ever worse treated in South Wales by the people there than you have been here by your own countrymen?" said I to the old fellow.
"My countrymen?" said he; "this scamp is no countryman of mine; nor is one of the whole kit. They are all from Wrexham, a mixture of broken housekeepers and fellows too stupid to learn a trade; a set of scamps fit for nothing in the world but to swear bodily against honest men. They say they will stand up for Sir Watkin, and so they will, but only in a box in the Court to give false evidence.
They won't fight for him on the banks of the river. Countrymen of mine, indeed! they are no countrymen of mine; they are from Wrexham, where the people speak neither English nor Welsh, not even South Welsh as you do."Then giving a kind of flourish with his stick he departed.