198 VIGNETTES FROM NATURE. 



XX. 



BESIDE THE CROMLECH. 



ON the long spur where the path loses itself 

 among bracken and heather, just below the 

 summit of Mynydd Mawr, I met an Ancient 

 Briton, from whom I tried to learn the way 

 to the cromlech. Unfortunately, my Ancient 

 Briton ' had not the English/ and so failed 

 to comprehend the questions I put to him. 

 But, by mustering all my stock of Welsh in a 

 supreme effort, I managed at last to make 

 him understand what it was that I wanted. 

 ' Oh, ay,' he says, in his native Cymric, 

 politely swallowing down his rising smile at 

 my imperfect //'s and c/is, ' You mean the 

 Fairy's Grave. Cross past the llyn and up 



