"Yes, yes," said 'n'wncwl Jos; "there's many things in Mwntseison which you won't find in any other village along the bay. Look at Aberython and Clidwen; and there's Treswnd and Abermere! Is there a man like the Mishteer in one of those places?"
"No! Nor a woman like Mari Vone neither!" said a burly sailor.
"No, no!" said 'n'wncwl Jos again; "there's no doubt the Almighty keeps His eye on us, 'cos look at Lallo's pig now!"
"Well, it seems to me," said Shoni, the blacksmith, who was always inclined to be irreverent, "that He wasn't watching very closely when Gwen did that nasty trick!"
"Wasn't He, then!" said 'n'wncwl Jos, stumping violently with his wooden leg. "What was to prevent her killing her mother instead of the pig? If poor Gwen felt she must kill something, what could be better than the pig?"
"What, indeed?" said everybody; "for though he was hurried away rather (not so long, too! for he was to be killed in a month), he is as well salted and dried as any pig ever was, and lying safe in sides and hams on the shelves in Rhys Thomas's shop."
"Ach y fi! I won't touch that bacon whatever," said Nell.
"And look at Ivor Parry, brought safe from the sea and the fever. Oh, yes, caton pawb! it's as plain as the day. Mwntseison is well looked after!"
And there were many of the young and frivolous who wished for a few more sensations, since it was evident that they brought them no harm.
"When is Gwen going to the 'sayloom?" said Shoni-go.[[1]] "She was screaming and laughing like a mad thing, as she is, last night, and flying like a partridge over the cliffs, her arms spread out, and her toes just touching the ground. Diwedd anwl! my heart nearly leapt out of my body when I heard her!"