Page:My people stories of the peasantry of West Wales.djvu/118



“Tell you me now how far I am from the poorhouse of Castellybryn.”

“Man, man,” answered Ianto, “you’re seven miles good and more.” Although it was then dusk the tempter made no move to pass on his journey.

“You seem weary, man bach,” remarked Ianto.

“Indeed to goodness now, weary I am,” answered the tramp.

“Sit you down and rest your little old feet,” Ianto counselled him.

The tramp removed his shoes. His feet were blistered, wherefore he rebuked the sun and its heat and the stones on the roads, and they were dusty.

“Say from where you are, boy bach nice?” asked Ianto.

“From far enough, small male, not to want to walk another step.” “Say you where you hail from and your place of abode.” “The foxes in the fields have their