of
obtaining information. They were both rather young, and were probably a
couple of sweethearts taking a walk or returning from meeting. The woman
was a few steps in advance of the man; seeing that I was about to address
her, she averted her head and quickened her steps, and before I had
completed the question, which I put to her in Welsh, she had bolted past
me screaming "Ah Dim Seasneg," and was several yards distant.

I then addressed myself to the man who had stopped, asking him the name
of the bridge.

"Pont Bettws," he replied.

"And what may be the name of the river?" said I.

"Afon--something," said he.

And on my thanking him he went forward to the woman who was waiting for
him by the bridge.

"Is that man Welsh or English?" I heard her say when he had rejoined her.

"I don't know," said the man--"he was civil enough; why were you such a
fool?"

"Oh, I thought he would speak to me in English," said the woman, "and the
thought of that horrid English puts me into such a flutter; you know I
can't speak a word of it."

They proceeded on their way and I proceeded on mine, and presently coming
to a little inn on the left side of the way, at the entrance of a
village, I went in.

A respectable-looking man and woman were seated at tea at a table in a
nice clean kitchen. I sat down on a chair near the table, and called for
ale--the ale was brought me in a jug--I drank some, put the jug on the
table, and began to discourse with the people in Welsh. A handsome dog
was seated on the ground; suddenly it laid one of its paws on its
master's knee.

"Down, Perro," said he.

"Perro!" said I; "why do you call the dog Perro?"

"We call him Perro," said the man, "because his name is Perro."

"But how came you to give him that name?" said I.

"We did not give it to him," said the man--"he bore that name when he
came into our hands; a farmer gave him to us when he was very young, and
told us his name was Perro."

"And how came the farmer to call him Perro?" said I.

"I don't know," said the man--"why do you ask?"

"Perro," said I, "is a Spanish word, and signifies a dog in general. I
am rather surprised that a dog in the mountains of Wales should be called
by the Spanish word for dog." I fell into a fit of musing. "How Spanish
words are diffused! Wherever you go you will find some Spanish word or
other in use. I have heard Spanish words used by Russian mujiks and
Turkish fig-gatherers--I have this