“Ah, you are a gentleman—gentlefolks always find it easier to learn to read a foreign lingo than to speak it, but it’s quite the contrary with we poor folks.”
“One of the most profound truths ever uttered connected with language,” said I to myself. I asked him if there were many Church of England people in Llandovery.
“A good many,” he replied.
“Do you belong to the Church?” said I.
“Yes, I do.”
“If this were Sunday I would go to church,” said I.
“Oh, if you wish to go to church you can go to-night. This is Wednesday, and there will be service at half-past six. If you like I will come for you.”
“Pray do,” said I; “I should like above all things to go.”
Dinner over I sat before the fire occasionally dozing, occasionally sipping a glass of whiskey-and-water. A little after six the old fellow made his appearance with a kind of Spanish hat on his head. We set out; the night was very dark; we went down a long street seemingly in the direction of the west. “How many churches are there in Llandovery?” said I to my companion.
“Only one, but you are not going to Llandovery Church, but to that of Llanfair, in which our clergyman does duty once or twice a week.”