“O, famed for very good ham; best ham at Tregaron in all Shire Cardigan.”
“Famed for anything else?”
“O yes! famed for great man, clever thief, Twm Shone Catti, who was born there.”
“Dear me!” said I; “when did he live?”
“O, long time ago, more than two hundred year.”
“And what became of him?” said I; “was he hung?”
“Hung, no! only stupid thief hung. Twm Shone clever thief; died rich man, justice of the peace and mayor of Brecon.”
“Very singular,” said I, “that they should make a thief mayor of Brecon.”
“O, Twm Shone Catti very different from other thieves; funny fellow, and so good-natured that everybody loved him—so they made him magistrate, not, however, before he had become very rich man by marrying great lady who fell in love with him.”
“Ah, ah,” said I; “that’s the way of the world. He became rich, so they made him a magistrate; had he remained poor they would have hung him in spite of all his fun and good-nature. Well, can’t you tell me some of the things he did?”