CHAPTER XXXVI
Moelfre - Owain Gwynedd - Church of Penmynnydd - The Rose of Mona.
LEAVING Pentraeth Coch I retraced my way along the Bangor road till
I came to the turning on the right. Here I diverged from the
aforesaid road, and proceeded along one which led nearly due west;
after travelling about a mile I stopped, on the top of a little
hill; cornfields were on either side, and in one an aged man was
reaping close to the road; I looked south, west, north and east; to
the south was the Snowdon range far away, with the Wyddfa just
discernible; to the west and north was nothing very remarkable, but
to the east or rather north-east, was mountain Lidiart and the tall
hill confronting it across the bay.
"Can you tell me," said I to the old reaper, "the name of that bald
hill, which looks towards Lidiart?"
"We call that hill Moelfre," said the old man desisting from his
labour, and touching his hat.
"Dear me," said I; "Moelfre, Moelfre!"
"Is there anything wonderful in the name, sir?" said the old man
smiling.
"There is nothing wonderful in the name," said I, "which merely
means the bald hill, but it brings wonderful recollections to my
mind.
