Page:My people stories of the peasantry of West Wales.djvu/247

 “Go I would for sure into Morfa, but, dear me, no one will have me,” said Esther.

“What for you cry mischief when there’s no mischief to be?“ said Sam.

Esther tore off pieces of peat and arranged them lightly on the furze.

“Nice place is Morfa,” she observed.

“Girl fach, iss,” Sam said. “Nice will be to go out in Twmmi’s boat. Speak you that you will spend the day with me.” “How say Catrin! Sober serious! How will Catrin the daughter of Rachel speak if you don't go with her?” “Mention you Catrin, Esther fach, what for?”

“Is there not loud speakings that you have courted Catrin in bed? Very full is her belly.” “Esther! Esther! Why you make me savage like an old rabbit? Why for