Page:My people stories of the peasantry of West Wales.djvu/207

 maid will be home on the third day then?” “Dan bach and his maid! Serious now? Who may she be? Samson, Samson, there's shut up you are. Tell her name, man?”

“Curious was Mati your old mother, and curious you are, Mali. But wait a bit now while I have another peep at the old letter. … Dear, where is she? Here she is. Alice Wite—that's her name, Mali. Miss Wite.” “That’s vile English,” said Mali.

“English, little Mali.” “Doesn't the boy say how much yellow gold she possesses?”

“No-no, woman.”

“Then she hasn’t got any. Wite, indeed! There's a bad concubine! For what then Dan doesn’t throw gravel at the window of some tidy wench who can speak his native tongue!”

Mali threw her voice across the close