r party returned to the house--which put me very much
in mind of the farm-houses of the substantial yeomen of Cornwall,
particularly that of my friends at Penquite; a comfortable fire blazed in
the kitchen grate, the floor was composed of large flags of slate. In
the kitchen the old lady pointed to me the ffon, or walking-stick, of Huw
Morris; it was supported against a beam by three hooks; I took it down
and walked about the kitchen with it; it was a thin polished black stick,
with a crome cut in the shape of an eagle's head; at the end was a brass
fence. The kind creature then produced a sword without a scabbard; this
sword was found by Huw Morris on the mountain--it belonged to one of
Oliver's officers who was killed there. I took the sword, which was a
thin two-edged one, and seemed to be made of very good steel; it put me
in mind of the blades which I had seen at Toledo--the guard was very
slight like those of all rapiers, and the hilt the common old-fashioned
English officer's hilt--there was no rust on the blade, and it still
looked a dangerous sword. A man like Thistlewood would have whipped it
through his adversary in a twinkling. I asked the old lady if Huw Morris
was born in this house; she said no, but a little farther on at Pont y
Meibion; she said, however, that the ground had belonged to him, and that
they had some of his blood in their veins. I shook her by the hand, and
gave the chubby bare-armed damsel a shilling, pointing to the marks of
the nettle stings on her fat bacon-like arms. She laughed, made me a
curtsey, and said: "Llawer iawn o diolch."

John Jones and I then proceeded to the house at Pont y Meibion, where we
saw two men, one turning a grind-stone, and the other holding an adze to
it. We asked if we were at the house of Huw Morris, and whether they
could tell us anything about him; they made us no answer but proceeded
with their occupation; John Jones then said that the Gwr Boneddig was
very fond of the verses of Huw Morris, and had come a great way to see
the place where he was born. The wheel now ceased turning, and the man
with the adze turned his face full upon me--he was a stern-looking, dark
man, with black hair, of about forty; after a moment or two he said that
if I chose to walk into the house I should be welcome. He then conducted
us into the house, a common-looking stone tenement, and bade us be
seated. I asked him if he was a descendant of Huw Morus; he said he was;
I