Spot or square, the church on the
east, and on the west a neat little inn or public-house over the
door of which was written "The White Horse. Hugh Pritchard." By
this time I had verified in part the prediction of the old Welsh
poet of the post-office. Though I was not yet arrived at Llanfair,
I was, if not tired, very thirsty, owing to the burning heat of the
weather, so I determined to go in and have some ale. On entering
the house I was greeted in English by Mr Hugh Pritchard himself, a
tall bulky man with a weather-beaten countenance, dressed in a
brown jerkin and corduroy trowsers, with a broad low-crowned buff-
coloured hat on his head, and what might he called half shoes and
half high-lows on his feet. He had a short pipe in his mouth,
which when he greeted me he took out, but replaced as soon as the
greeting was over, which consisted of "Good-day, sir," delivered in
a frank, hearty tone. I looked Mr Hugh Pritchard in the face and
thought I had never seen a more honest countenance. On my telling
Mr Pritchard that I wanted a pint of ale, a buxom damsel came
forward and led me into a nice cool parlour on the right-hand side
of the door, and then went to fetch the ale.
Mr Pritchard meanwhile went into a kind of tap-room, fronting the
parlour, where I heard him talking in Welsh about pigs and cattle
to some of his customers. I observed that he spoke with some
hesitation; which circumstance I mention as rather curious, he
being the only Welshman I have ever known who, when speaking his
native language, appeared to be at a loss for words. The damsel
presently brought me the ale, which I tasted and found excellent;
she was going away when I asked her whether Mr Pritchard was her
father; on her replying in the affirmative I inquired whether she
was born in that house.
"No!" said she; "I was born in Liverpool; my father was born in
this house, which belonged to his fathers before him, but he left
it at an early age and married my mother in Liverpool, who was an
Anglesey woman, and so I was born in Liverpool."
"And what did you do in Liverpool?" said I.
"My mother kept a little shop," said the girl, "whilst my father
followed various occupations."
"And how long have you been here?" said I.
"Since the death of my grandfather," said the girl, "which happened
about a year ago. When he died my father came here and took
possession of his birth-right."
"You speak very good English," said I; "have you any Welsh?"
"Oh yes, plenty," said the girl; "we always speak Welsh together,
but being born at Liverpool, I of course have plenty of English."
"And which language do you prefer?" said I.
