Lad.—A farmer, sir.
Myself.—Does he farm his own land?
Lad.—He does not, sir; he is tenant to Mr. Price of Hiwlas.
Myself.—Do you live far from Bala?
Lad.—Not very far, sir.
Myself.—Are you going home now?
Lad.—I am not, sir; our home is on the other side of Bala. I am going to see a relation up the road.
Myself.—Bala is a nice place.
Lad.—It is, sir; but not so fine as old Bala.
Myself.—I never heard of such a place. Where is it?