"Well, I will stop and have some, for that is a dish Madlen always spoils."
"'Tis pity, indeed; I must show her how to do them."
"Can diolch,"[[4]] he said.
"What dost want 'n'wncwl Jos for—anything particular?"
"Yes," said Hugh, "I want his advice—and yours, Mari, on a subject very important to me. But here is 'n'wncwl Jos!"
As the old man stumped in, he greeted Hugh with the usual friendly "Hello! Mishteer," before he seated himself on the settle, Mari at once placing beside him a bucket of sea-sand, into which he squirted his tobacco juice with unerring aim, for he had learned under Mari's regime to dread a spot upon the speckless floor. Hugh had taken out his pipe, and the two men were soon sending wreaths of smoke up the big, open chimney, as they sat round the bright fire of culm[[5]] balls.
Gwen's approaching marriage was the subject of conversation.
"Well, indeed, I think he's a lucky chap," said 'n'wncwl Jos, "for she's a tidy girl, and saving, and steady."
"Yes, very good girl," said Hugh.
"Ivor Parry will have to find new lodgings now," said Mari.