And, having nothing better to do, I put the events of our interview into rhyme.
TRAVELLER.
“Where art thou going, pretty lass?
The rain falls thick and fast;
Come in, and dry thy mantle, maid,
And shun the bleak cold blast.”GIRL.
“I heed not, sir, the mountain gale,
Nor thickly falling rain;
For my poor mother lies at home
In sickness and in pain;
And I must haste to sell my work,
And much I have to spare,
That I may purchase winter store
To free her mind from care.
For she is old, and quite infirm,
And child hath none but me,
And oh her heart is yearning now
My face again to see.”TRAVELLER.
“Cold is the heart that would not beat
To see that face of thine,
Where sweet simplicity hath traced
Her lineaments divine.”
She turned away her head to hide
A tear upon her cheek;
While piety beamed in her eye,
And resignation meek.GIRL.
“Oh do not, do not stay me, sir,
For I must to the fair,
To sell my hose, and purchase food,
And things for winter wear.”TRAVELLER.
“I’ll buy thy hose; thou shalt not walk
Beneath the drenching rain,
But tarry here until the sun
Shines brightly forth again.”
Her hose were bought, she sought her home
With smiles upon her face;
Her heart was light, her eyes were bright
Her every motion, grace.
And happy was the traveller’s heart
When bidding her farewell;
Her glance of gratitude, said all,
And more, than tongue could tell.
By the time I had committed this little effusion to paper, the sun shone out gloriously; and it had the astonishing effect of giving a sort of animation to the mute gentlemen, who absolutely rose from their drowsy postures and walked to the window. Thank heaven! I mentally exclaimed; I have a chance now of getting rid of my “musty superfluity;” but I was mistaken.
“You will now be able to start for Harlech,” said I.
“Why a—” drawled one, “I am afraid it’s too late, as we wish to get to bed early to-night. What do you say, Tom?”
“Why I think so too, Dick; and so we’ll be happy to join you, sir, in your walk, as I think you said you intended proceeding to Tremadoc.”
I said I should be happy, with a smile, that extracted from one of them the question, “Ain’t you well, sir?”
Without replying, I proceeded to put up my little all in the knapsack; having first desired the waiter to bring my bill.
“You’d better put it all together, and we can divide it,” said they.
I agreed, and it being discharged, after paying for the shoes which I borrowed for my evening’s sport, and for the repairing, which was excellently performed by my loquacious cobbler, I started with my two hopeful friends for Tremadoc. We however, first went to view the grounds of Tan-y-bwlch, the seat of W. G. Oakley Esq. The name signifies “below the pass:” it is situated on the side of a hill which overlooks the vale.