“Well, what do you call it?” said the woman.
“Eawg,” said I, “that is the word for a salmon in general—but there are words also to show the sex—when you speak of a male salmon you should say cemyw, when of a female hwyfell.”
“I never heard the words before,” said the woman, “nor do I believe them to be Welsh.”
“You say so,” said I, “because you do not understand Welsh.”
“I not understand Welsh!” said she. “I’ll soon show you that I do. Come, you have asked me the word for salmon in Welsh, I will now ask you the word for salmon-trout. Now tell me that, and I will say you know something of the matter.”
“A tinker of my country can tell you that,” said I. “The word for salmon-trout is gleisiad.”
The countenance of the woman fell.
“I see you know something about the matter,” said she; “there are very few hereabouts, though so near to the vale of Clwyd, who know the word for salmon-trout in Welsh. I shouldn’t have known the word myself, but for the song which says:
“‘Glân yw’r gleisiad yn y llyn.’”
“And who wrote that song?” said I.