not," said I, "nor in many other things which they did, for which
we laugh at them, because we do not know the reasons they had for
doing them." We regained the road; the road tended to the north up
a steep ascent. I asked John Jones the name of a beautiful
village, which lay far away on our right, over the glen, and near
its top. "Pentref y dwr, sir" (the village of the water). It is
called the village of the water, because the river below comes down
through part of it. I next asked the name of the hill up which we
were going, and he told me Allt Bwlch; that is, the high place of
the hollow road.

This bwlch, or hollow way, was a regular pass, which put me
wonderfully in mind of the passes of Spain. It took us a long time
to get to the top. After resting a minute on the summit we began
to descend. My guide pointed out to me some slate-works, at some
distance on our left. "There is a great deal of work going on
there, sir," said he: "all the slates that you see descending the
canal at Llangollen came from there." The next moment we heard a
blast, and then a thundering sound: "Llais craig yn syrthiaw; the
voice of the rock in falling, sir," said John Jones; "blasting is
dangerous and awful work." We reached the bottom of the descent,
and proceeded for two or three miles up and down a rough and narrow
road; I then turned round and looked at the hills which we had
passed over. They looked bulky and huge.

We continued our way, and presently saw marks of a fire in some
grass by the side of the road. "Have the Gipsiaid been there?"
said I to my guide.

"Hardly, sir; I should rather think that the Gwyddelaid (Irish)