“Dolwen,” said a dark-faced young fellow of about four-and-twenty.
“And what is the name of the valley?” said I.
“Dolwen,” was the answer, “the valley is named after the village.”
“You mean that the village is named after the valley,” said I, “for Dolwen means fair valley.”
“It may be so,” said the young fellow, “we don’t know much here.”
Then after a moment’s pause he said:
“Are you going much farther?”
“Only as far as the ‘Pump Saint.’”
“Have you any business there?” said he.
“No,” I replied, “I am travelling the country, and shall only put up there for the night.”