And Wiggie, assuming the viva voce examination tones of the Club Moss, would ask her sister what a man was, and whether Eesaac Oliver Gruffydd could properly be classed as one.
Failing the turning up of those two marriageable brothers, the Misses June and Wy were likely to be what Mrs. Briggs called "bad to suit."
It was when the Utopia-readers had been at the "Montgomery" rather more than half their time that the first bruit went abroad of the jollification that presently made memorable the eve of their departure. Nor was this jollification to be confined to their own set. All (as afterwards at the Llanyglo P.S.A. Meetings) were to be welcome. The project was talked over, at first informally at the Llanyglo Stores, afterwards more seriously at the "Montgomery"; and a few days later the rumour was confirmed by print. Eesaac Oliver Gruffydd and Hugh Morgan distributed a number of handbills, thrusting them into folk's hands in the stake-and-wire-enclosed streets, pushing them under doors, and even entering that Reservation on the shore where the Cambrians sat stiffly, reading their novels, toying with their fancy-work, or dozing after lunch. Then, on the land-agents' blackboards and in the windows of the Llanyglo Stores, larger bills appeared. Large bills and small alike read as follows:
Llanyglo Holiday Camp, July, 1887.
THE AIGBURTH STREET AND CHOW BENT
SQUARE UNITED READING CIRCLES
beg to announce that a
GRAND POW-WOW
will be held in the Dinas, the Trwyn, Llanyglo,
on
Friday Evening, the 22nd, at 8.30 sharp.
BRING YOUR REFRESHMENTS!
BRING YOUR VOICE LOZENGES!
BRING YOUR MUSIC!
BRING YOUR LANTERNS!
BRING YOUR FRIENDS!
Visitors and Residents alike are Welcome!
Songs!! Recitations!!! Short Speeches!!!!
LADIES SPECIALLY INVITED!
Grand Chief: Deputy Grand Chief:
Barry Topham, Esqr. Howell Gruffydd, Esqr.
Committee: ................
................
................
The Proceedings will open with the singing of
"God Save the People,"
and will close with "Hen Wlad fy Nhadau."
Edward Jones, Printer, Porth Neigr. 0616.
"Boy!" called Raymond Briggs, as Eesaac Oliver, having distributed this announcement to the occupants of the Reservation, was passing on; and Eesaac Oliver turned. "Pick those papers up at once!" Raymond ordered, pointing to a litter of handbills where the wavelets lapped the marge of seaweed. Then, over his shoulder to Philip Lacey, who reclined almost horizontally in the next deck-chair: "Making a mess of the beach like that! Paper wherever you go; they're as bad as a lot of trippers! Can't make out what you see in that fellow Topham——"
Philip, who was frowning over the handbill, spoke, also over his shoulder.—"You going to this?"
Raymond gave a short laugh.—"Me?"
It was almost as if he said, "I didn't ask them to dinner, my dear man! I'm perfectly free to stop away!"
"Good. We'll have a game of chess, then," Philip replied off-handedly. He could give Raymond pawn and move.
Outside the Reservation, however, little but the Pow-Wow was talked of. Howell Gruffydd had looked the word up in his little English-Welsh Dictionary, and, though he had failed to find it, he was none the less set-up at the thought of being a Deputy Grand Chief. But he became thoughtful again when there arrived for him a bundle from Barry Topham, which, on being opened, was found to contain a pair of very much creased moccasins, a broad-striped blanket, and a head-dress of feathers similar to the one the Grand Chief himself was to wear. Howell had remembered Dafydd Dafis. Dafydd might not like him to bedeck himself thus, and what Dafydd might think always mattered a great deal in Llanyglo. Dafydd, his old corduroys notwithstanding, stood for the integrity of Nationalism, and even Howell, willing to be English, must be careful not to be too English—or, in the present case, too Indian.