220 WINTER SUNSHINE 



ing our ale and looking on approvingly. After a 

 •while the pleasant, modest-looking har-maid, whom 

 I had seen behind the beer-levers as I entered, came 

 in, and, after looking on for a moment, was per- 

 suaded to lay down her sewing and join in the 

 dance. Then there came in a sandy-haired Welsh- 

 man, who could speak and understand only his 

 native dialect, and finding his neighbors ai&liating 

 with an Englishman, as he supposed, and trying to 

 speak the hateful tongue, proceeded to berate them 

 sharply (for it appears the Welsh are still jealous of 

 the English); but when they explained to him that 

 I was not an Englishman, but an American, and 

 had already twice stood the beer all around (at an 

 outlay of sixpence), he subsided into a sulky silence, 

 and regarded me intently. 



About eleven o'clock a policeman paused at the 

 door, and intimated that it was time the house was 

 shut up and the music stopped, and to outward 

 appearances his friendly warning was complied with ; 

 but the harp still discoursed in a minor key, and a 

 light tripping and shuffling of responsive feet might 

 occasionally have been heard for an hour later. 

 When I arose to go, it was with a feeling of regret 

 that I could not see more of this simple and social 

 people, with whom I at once felt that "touch of 

 nature" which "makes the whole world kin," and 

 my leave-taking was warm and hearty accordingly. 



Through the wind and the darkness I threaded 

 my way to the wharf, and in less than two hours 

 afterward was a most penitent voyager, and fitfully 



