ATGOFION AM DDOLWYDDELAN[1]
I WAS going out in this tumble-down village yesterday. It's a long street with houses on each side of the road. Those near the sea are on the very brink of it, built with their backs to it; mostly small cottages built with mud. The recent storms have ruined a great many of them; the waves rising right above their roofs and dashing over them, running through many, and made them unfit to live in. At the far end an old Captain stood on a rock and saw the waves rising over Borth, and he called out: "There they are, every soul of them drowned"; and wave after wave rising higher; sand and stones filling the street; house after house ruined for ever. And now there the old ruins are; a great many of them uninhabitable and left condemned not fit to live in. I quite enjoy going about in the loneliness of the sea-waves, wind and ruins.
Well, you want my hanes going with Father to bury my grandmother. I have no dates. My brother John and sister Ann had to ride. Each had a pony. They went through Beddgelert and Capel Curig. Father had just come home from South Wales. While he was having his tea, he said to mother, "I dreamt with my mother." "Did you? "Yes, I saw myself standing in the old home by the door. I could not stand upright because it was so low. All
- ↑ Darn o lythyr yw'r bennod hon, ac fe'i hargraffwyd fel yr ysgrifennwyd
