It was elegant and
even faithful, but far beyond the comprehension of people in
general, and consequently by no means fitted for the use of
churches, though intended for that purpose by the author, a sincere
Christian, though a warrior. Avoiding the error into which his
predecessor had fallen, the Archdeacon made use of a measure
intelligible to people of every degree, in which alliteration is
not observed, and which is called by the Welsh y mesur cyffredin,
or the common measure. His opinion of the four-and-twenty measures
the Archdeacon has given to the world in four cowydd lines to the
following effect:
"I've read the master-pieces great
Of languages no less than eight,
But ne'er have found a woof of song
So strict as that of Cambria's tongue."
After breakfast on the morning subsequent to my arrival, Henrietta
and I roamed about the town, and then proceeded to view the bridges
which lead over the strait to Anglesey. One, for common traffic,
is a most beautiful suspension bridge completed in 1820, the result
of the mental and manual labours of the ingenious Telford; the
other is a tubular railroad bridge, a wonderful structure, no
doubt, but anything but graceful. We remained for some time on the
first bridge, admiring the scenery, and were not a little
delighted, as we stood leaning over the principal arch, to see a
proud vessel pass beneath us in full sail.
Satiated with gazing we passed into Anglesey, and making our way to
the tubular bridge, which is to the west of the suspension one,
entered one of its passages and returned to the main land.
The air was exceedingly hot and sultry, and on coming to a stone
bench, beneath a shady wall, we both sat down, panting, on one end
of it; as we were resting ourselves, a shabby-looking man with a
bundle of books came and seated himself at the other end, placing
his bundle beside him; then taking out from his pocket a dirty red
handkerchief, he wiped his face, which was bathed in perspiration,
and ejaculated: "By Jasus, it is blazing hot!"
"Very hot, my friend," said I; "have you travelled far to-day?"
"I have not, your hanner; I have been just walking about the dirty
town trying to sell my books."
"Have you been successful?"
"I have not, your hanner; only three pence have I taken this
blessed day."
"What do your books treat of?"
"Why, that is more than I can tell your hanner; my trade is to sell
the books not to read them. Would your hanner like to look at
them?"
"Oh dear no," said I; "I have long been tired of books; I have had
enough of them."
"I daresay, your hanner; from the state of your hanner's eyes I
should say as much; they look so weak - picking up learning has
ruined your hanner's sight."
"May I ask," said I, "from what country you are?"
"Sure your hanner may; and it is a civil answer you will get from
Michael Sullivan. It is from ould Ireland I am, from Castlebar in
the county Mayo."
"And how came you into Wales?"
"From the hope of bettering my condition, your hanner, and a
foolish hope it was."
"You have not bettered your condition, then?"
"I have not, your hanner; for I suffer quite as much hunger and
thirst as ever I did in ould Ireland."
"Did you sell books in Ireland?"
"I did nat, yer hanner; I made buttons and clothes - that is I
pieced them. I was several trades in ould Ireland, your hanner;
but none of them answering, I came over here."
"Where you commenced book-selling?" said I.
"I did nat, your hanner. I first sold laces, and then I sold
loocifers, and then something else; I have followed several trades
in Wales, your hanner; at last I got into the book-selling trade,
in which I now am."
"And it answers, I suppose, as badly as the others?"
"Just as badly, your hanner; divil a bit better."
"I suppose you never beg?"
"Your hanner may say that; I was always too proud to beg. It is
begging I laves to the wife I have."
"Then you have a wife?"
"I have, your hanner; and a daughter, too; and a good wife and
daughter they are. What would become of me without them I do not
know."
"Have you been long in Wales?"
"Not very long, your hanner; only about twenty years."
"Do you travel much about?"
"All over North Wales, your hanner; to say nothing of the southern
country."
"I suppose you speak Welsh?"
"Not a word, your hanner. The Welsh speak their language so fast,
that divil a word could I ever contrive to pick up."
"Do you speak Irish?"
"I do, yer hanner; that is when people spake to me in it."
I spoke to him in Irish; after a little discourse he said in
English:
"I see your hanner is a Munster man. Ah! all the learned men comes
from Munster. Father Toban comes from Munster."
"I have heard of him once or twice before," said I.
"I daresay your hanner has. Every one has heard of Father Toban;
the greatest scholar in the world, who they, say stands a better
chance of being made Pope, some day or other, than any saggart in
Ireland."
"Will you take sixpence?"
"I will, your hanner; if your hanner offers it; but I never beg; I
leave that kind of work to my wife and daughter as I said before."
After giving him the sixpence, which he received with a lazy "thank
your hanner," I got up, and followed by my daughter returned to the
town.
