Have you a good practice ?" I demanded after a pause.
"I have no reason to complain of it," said he, with a contented air.
"I suppose you are married ?" said I.
"Oh yes," said he, "I have both a wife and family." "A native of Llangollen ?" said I.
"No," said he: "I was born at Llan Silin, a place some way off across the Berwyn." "Llan Silin ?" said I, "I have a great desire to visit it some day or other." "Why so ?" said he, "it offers nothing interesting." "I beg your pardon," said I; "unless I am much mistaken, the tomb of the great poet Huw Morris is in Llan Silin churchyard." "Is it possible that you have ever heard of Huw Morris ?" "Oh yes," said I; "and I have not only heard of him but am acquainted with his writings; I read them when a boy." "How very extraordinary," said he; "well, you are quite right about his tomb; when a boy I have played dozens of times on the flat stone with my schoolfellows." We talked of Welsh poetry; he said he had not dipped much into it, owing to its difficulty; that he was master of the colloquial language of Wales, but understood very little of the language of Welsh poetry, which was a widely different thing.

I asked him whether he had seen Owen Pugh's translation of Paradise Lost.

He said he had, but could only partially understand it, adding, however, that those parts which he could make out appeared to him to be admirably executed, that amongst these there was one which had particularly struck him namely: "Ar eu col o rygnu croch Daranau." The rendering of Milton's "And on their hinges grate Harsh thunder." which, grand as it was, was certainly equalled by the Welsh version, and perhaps surpassed, for that he was disposed to think that there was something more terrible in "croch daranau," than in "harsh thunder." "I am disposed to think so too," said I.

"Now can you tell me where Owen Pugh is buried ?" "I cannot," said he; "but I suppose you can tell me; you, who know the burying-place of Huw Morris are probably acquainted with the burying-place of Owen Pugh." "No," said I, "I am not.

Unlike Huw Morris, Owen Pugh has never had his history written, though perhaps quite as interesting a history might be made out of the life of the quiet student as out of that of the popular poet.