"I know who he is," said the first, "he comes from Llydaw, or
Armorica, which was peopled from Britain estalom, and where I am
told the real old Welsh language is still spoken."
"I think I heard you mention the word Llydaw?" said I, to the man
of the hat.
"Ah," said the man of the hat, speaking Welsh, "I was right after
all; oh, I could have sworn you were Llydaweg. Well, how are the
descendants of the ancient Britons getting on in Llydaw?"
"They are getting on tolerably well," said I, "when I last saw
them, though all things do not go exactly as they could wish."
"Of course not," said he of the hat. "We too have much to complain
of here; the lands are almost entirely taken possession of by
Saxons, wherever you go you will find them settled, and a Saxon
bird of the roof must build its nest in Gwyn dy."
"You call a sparrow in your Welsh a bird of the roof, do you not?"
said I.
"We do," said he of the hat. "You speak Welsh very well
considering you were not born in Wales. It is really surprising
that the men of Llydaw should speak the iaith so pure as they do."
"The Welsh when they went over there," said I, "took effectual
means that their descendants should speak good Welsh, if all tales
be true."
"What means?" said he of the hat.
