"Yes," said the man in grey. "The - Arms at L-.""Sure," said I, "inn-keeping and bardism are not very cognate pursuits?""You are wrong," said the man in grey; "I believe the awen, or inspiration, is quite as much at home in the bar as in the barn, perhaps more. It is that belief which makes me tolerably satisfied with my position and prevents me from asking Sir Richard to give me a farm instead of an inn.""I suppose," said I, "that Sir Richard is your landlord?""He is," said the man in grey, "and a right noble landlord too.""I suppose," said I, 'that he is right proud of his tenant?""He is," said the man in grey, "and I am proud of my landlord, and will here drink his health. I have often said that if I were not what I am, I should wish to be Sir Richard.""You consider yourself his superior?" said I.
"Of course," said the man in grey - "a baronet is a baronet; but a bard, is a bard you know - I never forget what I am, and the respect due to my sublime calling. About a month ago I was seated in an upper apartment in a fit of rapture. There was a pen in my hand, and paper before me on the table, and likewise a jug of good ale, for I always find that the awen is most prodigal of her favours when a jug of good ale is before me. All of a sudden my wife came running up, and told me that Sir Richard was below, and wanted to speak to me. 'Tell him to walk up,' said I. 'Are you mad?' said my wife. 'Don't you know who Sir Richard is?' 'I do,'
said I, 'a baronet is a baronet, but a bard is a bard. Tell him to walk up.' Well, my wife went and told Sir Richard that I was writing, and could not come down, and that she hoped he would not object to walk up. 'Certainly not; certainly not,' said Sir Richard. 'I shall be only too happy to ascend to a genius on his hill. You may be proud of such a husband, Mrs W.' And here it will be as well to tell you that my name is W.-J. W. of -. Sir Richard then came up, and I received him with gravity and politeness. I did not rise of course, for I never forget myself a moment, but I told him to sit down, and added, that after I had finished the pennill I was engaged upon, I would speak to him.
Well, Sir Richard smiled and sat down, and begged me not to hurry myself, for that he could wait. So I finished the pennill, deliberately, mind you, for I did not forget who I was, and then turning to Sir Richard entered upon business with him.""I suppose Sir Richard is a very good-tempered man?" said I.
"I don't know," said the man in grey. "I have seen Sir Richard in a devil of a passion, but never with me - no, no! Trust Sir Richard for not riding the high horse with me - a baronet is a baronet, but a bard is a bard; and that Sir Richard knows.""The greatest prydydd," said the man of the tattered hat, emptying the last contents of the jug into his glass, "the greatest prydydd that - ""Well," said I, "you appear to enjoy very great consideration, and yet you were talking just now of being ill-used.""So I have been," said the man in grey, "I have been kept out of the eisteddfoddau - and then - what do you think? That fellow, the editor of the TIMES - ""Oh," said I, "if you have anything to do with the editor of the TIMES you may, of course, expect nothing but shabby treatment, but what business could you have with him?""Why I sent him some pennillion for insertion, and he did not insert them.""Were they in Welsh or English?"
"In Welsh, of course."
"Well, then the man had some excuse for disregarding them - because you know the TIMES is written in English.""Oh, you mean the London TIMES," said the man in grey. "Pooh! Idid not allude to that trumpery journal, but the Liverpool TIMES, the Amserau. I sent some pennillion to the editor for insertion and he did not insert them. Peth a clwir cenfigen yn Saesneg?""We call cenfigen in English envy," said I; "but as I told you before, envy will not always prevail.""You cannot imagine how pleased I am with your company," said the man in grey. "Landlord, landlord!""The greatest prydydd," said the man of the tattered hat, "the greatest prydydd.""Pray don't order any more on my account," said I, "as you see my glass is still full. I am about to start for Caer Gybi. Pray, where are you bound for?""For Bangor," said the man in grey. "I am going to the market.""Then I would advise you to lose no time," said I, "or you will infallibly be too late; it must now be one o'clock.""There is no market to-day," said the man in grey, "the market is to-morrow, which is Saturday. I like to take things leisurely, on which account, when I go to market, I generally set out the day before, in order that I may enjoy myself upon the road. I feel myself so happy here that I shall not stir till the evening. Now pray stay with me and my friend till then.""I cannot," said I, "if I stay longer here I shall never reach Caer Gybi to-night. But allow me to ask whether your business at L-will not suffer by your spending so much time on the road to market?""My wife takes care of the business whilst I am away," said the man in grey, "so it won't suffer much. Indeed it is she who chiefly conducts the business of the inn. I spend a good deal of time from home, for besides being a bard and inn-keeper, I must tell you I am a horse-dealer and a jobber, and if I go to Bangor it is in the hope of purchasing a horse or pig worth the money.""And is your friend going to market too?" said I.
"My friend goes with me to assist me and bear me company. If I buy a pig he will help me to drive it home; if a horse, he will get up upon its back behind me. I might perhaps do without him, but Ienjoy his company highly. He is sometimes rather indiscreet, but Ido assure you he is exceedingly clever."
"The greatest prydydd," said the man of the bulged shoe, "the greatest prydydd in the world.""Oh, I have no doubt of his cleverness," said I, "from what I have observed of him. Now before I go allow me to pay for your next jug of ale.""I will do no such thing," said the man in grey. "No farthing do you pay here for me or my friend either. But I will tell you what you may do. I am, as I have told you, an inn-keeper as well as a bard. By the time you get to L- you will be hot and hungry and in need of refreshment, and if you think proper to patronise my house, the - Arms, by taking your chop and pint there, you will oblige me.
Landlord, some more ale."
"The greatest prydydd," said he of the bulged shoe, "the greatest prydydd - ""I will most certainly patronise your house," said I to the man in grey, and shaking him heartily by the hand I departed.