"Ty yn y maes," he replied, adding as he stopped before a small cottage that he was going no farther, as he dwelt there.
"Is there a public-house here ?" said I.
"There is," he replied, "you will find one a little farther up on the right hand." "Come, and take some ale," said I.
"No," said he.
"Why not ?" I demanded.
"I am a teetotaler," he replied.
"Indeed," said I, and having shaken him by the hand, thanked him for his company and bidding him farewell, went on.

He was the first person I had ever met of the fraternity to which he belonged, who did not endeavour to make a parade of his abstinence and self-denial.
After drinking some tolerably good ale in the public house I again started.

As I left the village a clock struck eight.

The evening was delightfully cool; but it soon became nearly dark.

I passed under high rocks, by houses and by groves, in which nightingales were singing, to listen to whose entrancing melody I more than once stopped.