Bear that in mind; and now pray take up your money." "The man is a gentleman," thought I to myself, "whether a poet or not; but I really believe him to be a poet; were he not he could hardly talk in the manner I have just heard him." The man in grey now filled my glass, his own, and that of his companion.
The latter emptied his in a minute, not forgetting first to say "the best prydydd in all the world!" the man in grey was also not slow to empty his own.

The jug now passed rapidly between my two friends, for the poet seemed determined to have his full share of the beverage.

I allowed the ale in my glass to remain untasted, and began to talk about the bards, and to quote from their works.

I soon found that the man in grey knew quite as much of the old bards and their works as myself.

In one instance he convicted me of a mistake.
I had quoted those remarkable lines in which an old bard, doubtless seeing the Menai Bridge by means of second sight, says:--"I will pass to the land of Mona notwithstanding the waters of the Menai, without waiting for the ebb"-- and was feeling not a little proud of my erudition, when the man in grey after looking at me for a moment fixedly, asked me the name of the bard who composed them.