i8 BIRD HAUNTS AND NATURE MEMORIES 



of rabbit, stock-dove and sheld-duck. The intertwisted, 

 wide- spreading rootlets of the marram grass barely hold 

 the shifting sand, but in the hollows between the dunes 

 dwarf willow has a firmer hold; bees hum amidst the 

 yellow catkins, the titlark sings as it emulates the skylark 

 in these hollows. Marram is Newborough's crop to-day; 

 it is harvested, dried, and taken to the village, where 

 skilled fingers plait ropes and matting, tough and durable, 

 which is exported in considerable quantity; the star 

 grass, which binds the sand and saves the land from 

 further encroachment, feeds the inhabitants of New- 

 borough. 



A little rocky peninsula tips the seaward limits of the 

 Warren, where a lighthouse and a few pilots' cottages 

 are all that remain of the village of Llanddwyn; the 

 village itself has lain for centuries beneath the drifted 

 sand, or sunk in the peaty hollows where pools of water 

 lie, thick with the beautiful flowers of the buck-bean 

 and great masses of yellow flags. Llanddwyn Island 

 was once isolated, and even now a storm sweeps heavy 

 seas above its stone causeway; it is sacred to the memory 

 of St. Deuwnn or Ddwyn, an early British lady. Baring- 

 Gould calls her Dwynwen and says that she was a princess, 

 probably daughter of a king of Brecknock. Her own 

 love affairs did not run smoothly, but she became the 

 patron saint of lovers and adopted as her motto : " Nothing 

 wins hearts like cheerfulness." She fell in love with one 

 Maelon, but something went wrong and he spread ugly 

 reports about her ; she prayed to be relieved of her passion, 

 and was relieved by an angel who administered drops of 

 heavenly balm. Maelon also was dosed, but with different 

 results; he became a lump of ice. She retired to the 

 peninsula, quite a pleasant place to live in if she was 

 interested in birds and flowers, and prayed that Maelon 

 might be thawed but have no more to do with her, and 



