"This is a poor place, but if you will make use of our home you are welcome." "I need not trouble you," said I, "I return this night to Pentraeth Goch where I shall sleep." "Well," said the miller, "whilst you are at Llanfair I will accompany you about.

Where shall we go to first ?" "Where is the church ?" said I.

"I should like to see the church where Gronwy worshipped God as a boy." "The church is at some distance," said the man; "it is past my mill, and as I want to go to the mill for a moment, it will be perhaps well to go and see the church, before we go to the house of Gronwy." I shook the miller's wife by the hand, patted a little yellow-haired girl of about two years old on the head, who during the whole time of the meal had sat on the slate floor looking up into my face, and left the house with honest Jones.
We directed our course to the mill, which lay some way down a declivity, towards the sea.

Near the mill was a comfortable-looking house, which my friend told me belonged to the proprietor of the mill.

A rustic-looking man stood in the mill-yard, who he said was the proprietor.