The Pocket George Borrow Part 10

'Do allow her to arrange your hair,' said I; 'she means no harm, and wishes to do you honour; do oblige her and me too, for I should like to see how your hair would look dressed in her fas.h.i.+on.'

'You hear what the young rye says?' said Mrs. Petulengro. 'I am sure you will oblige the young rye, if not myself. Many people would be willing to oblige the young rye, if he would but ask them; but he is not in the habit of asking favours. He has a nose of his own, which he keeps tolerably exalted; he does not think small beer of himself, madam; and all the time I have been with him, I never heard him ask a favour before; therefore, madam, I am sure you will oblige him. My sister Ursula would be very willing to oblige him in many things, but he will not ask her for anything, except for such a favour as a word, which is a poor favour after all. I don't mean for her word; perhaps he will some day ask you for your word. If so--'

'Why, here you are, after railing at me for catching at words, catching at a word yourself,' said Mr. Petulengro.

'Hold your tongue, sir,' said Mrs. Petulengro. 'Don't interrupt me in my discourse; if I caught at a word now, I am not in the habit of doing so.

I am no conceited body; no newspaper Neddy; no pothouse witty person. I was about to say, madam, that if the young rye asks you at any time for your word, you will do as you deem convenient; but I am sure you will oblige him by allowing me to braid your hair.'

'I shall not do it to oblige him,' said Belle; 'the young rye, as you call him, is nothing to me.'

'Well, then, to oblige me,' said Mrs. Petulengro; 'do allow me to become your poor tire-woman.'

'It is great nonsense,' said Belle, reddening; 'however, as you came to see me, and ask the matter as a particular favour to yourself--'

'Thank you, madam,' said Mrs. Petulengro, leading Belle to the stool; 'please to sit down here. Thank you; your hair is very beautiful, madam,' she continued, as she proceeded to braid Belle's hair; 'so is your countenance. Should you ever go to the great city, among the grand folks, you would make a sensation, madam. I have made one myself, who am dark; the chi she is kauley, which last word signifies black, which I am not, though rather dark. There's no colour like white, madam; it's so lasting, so genteel. Gentility will carry the day, madam, even with the young rye. He will ask words of the black la.s.s, but beg the word of the fair.'

I found Belle seated by a fire, over which her kettle was suspended.

During my absence she had prepared herself a kind of tent, consisting of large hoops covered over with tarpaulin, quite impenetrable to rain, however violent. 'I am glad you are returned,' said she, as soon as she perceived me; 'I began to be anxious about you. Did you take my advice?'

'Yes,' said I; 'I went to the public-house and drank ale as you advised me; it cheered, strengthened, and drove away the horror from my mind--I am much beholden to you.'

'I knew it would do you good,' said Belle; 'I remembered that when the poor women in the great house were afflicted with hysterics and fearful imaginings, the surgeon, who was a good, kind man, used to say: "Ale, give them ale, and let it be strong."'

'He was no advocate for tea, then?' said I.

'He had no objection to tea; but he used to say, "Everything in its season." Shall we take ours now--I have waited for you.'

'I have no objection,' said I; 'I feel rather heated, and at present should prefer tea to ale--"Everything in its season," as the surgeon said.'

I put some fresh wood on the fire, which was nearly out, and hung the kettle over it. I then issued forth from the dingle, and strolled round the wood that surrounded it; for a long time I was busied in meditation, looking at the ground, striking with my foot, half unconsciously, the tufts of gra.s.s and thistles that I met in my way. After some time, I lifted up my eyes to the sky, at first vacantly, and then with more attention, turning my head in all directions for a minute or two; after which I returned to the dingle. Isopel was seated near the fire, over which the kettle was now hung; she had changed her dress--no signs of the dust and fatigue of her late excursion remained; she had just added to the fire a small billet of wood, two or three of which I had left beside it; the fire cracked, and a sweet odour filled the dingle.

'I am fond of sitting by a wood fire,' said Belle, 'when abroad, whether it be hot or cold; I love to see the flames dart out of the wood; but what kind is this, and where did you get it?'

'It is ash,' said I, 'green ash. Somewhat less than a week ago, whilst I was wandering along the road by the side of a wood, I came to a place where some peasants were engaged in cutting up and clearing away a confused ma.s.s of fallen timber: a mighty-aged oak had given way the night before, and in its fall had s.h.i.+vered some smaller trees; the upper part of the oak, and the fragments of the rest, lay across the road. I purchased, for a trifle, a bundle or two, and the wood on the fire is part of it--ash, green ash.'

'That makes good the old rhyme,' said Belle, 'which I have heard sung by the old woman in the great house:--

'"Ash, when green, Is fire for a queen."'

'And on fairer form of queen, ash fire never shone,' said I, 'than on thine, O beauteous queen of the dingle.'

'I am half disposed to be angry with you, young man,' said Belle.

After ordering dinner I said that as I was thirsty I should like to have some ale forthwith.

'Ale you shall have, your honour,' said Tom, 'and some of the best ale that can be drunk. This house is famous for ale.'

'I suppose you get your ale from Llangollen,' said I, 'which is celebrated for its ale over Wales.'

'Get our ale from Llangollen?' said Tom, with a sneer of contempt, 'no, nor anything else. As for the ale it was brewed in this house by your honour's humble servant.'

'Oh,' said I, 'if you brewed it, it must of course be good. Pray bring me some immediately, for I am anxious to drink ale of your brewing.'

'Your honour shall be obeyed,' said Tom, and disappearing returned in a twinkling with a tray on which stood a jug filled with liquor and a gla.s.s. He forthwith filled the gla.s.s, and pointing to its contents said:

'There, your honour, did you ever see such ale? Observe its colour! Does it not look for all the world as pale and delicate as cowslip wine?'

'I wish it may not taste like cowslip wine,' said I; 'to tell you the truth, I am no particular admirer of ale that looks pale and delicate; for I always think there is no strength in it.'

'Taste it, your honour,' said Tom, 'and tell me if you ever tasted such ale.'

I tasted it, and then took a copious draught. The ale was indeed admirable, equal to the best that I had ever before drunk--rich and mellow, with scarcely any smack of the hop in it, and though so pale and delicate to the eye nearly as strong as brandy. I commended it highly to the worthy Jenkins.

'That Llangollen ale indeed! no, no! ale like that, your honour, was never brewed in that trumpery hole Llangollen,'

'You seem to have a very low opinion of Llangollen?' said I.

'How can I have anything but a low opinion of it, your honour? A trumpery hole it is, and ever will remain so.'

'Many people of the first quality go to visit it,' said I.

'That is because it lies so handy for England, your honour. If it did not, n.o.body would go to see it. What is there to see in Llangollen?'

'There is not much to see in the town, I admit,' said I, 'but the scenery about it is beautiful: what mountains!'

'Mountains, your honour, mountains! well, we have mountains too, and as beautiful as those of Llangollen. Then we have our lake, our Llyn Tegid, the lake of beauty. Show me anything like that near Llangollen?'

'Then,' said I, 'there is your mound, your Tomen Bala. The Llangollen people can show nothing like that.'

Tom Jenkins looked at me for a moment with some surprise, and then said: 'I see you have been here before, sir.'

'No,' said I, 'never, but I have read about the Tomen Bala in books, both Welsh and English.'

'You have, sir,' said Tom. 'Well, I am rejoiced to see so book-learned a gentleman in our house. The Tomen Bala has puzzled many a head. What do the books which mention it say about it, your honour?'

'Very little,' said I, 'beyond mentioning it; what do the people here say of it?'

'All kinds of strange things, your honour.'

'Do they say who built it?'

'Some say the Tylwyth Teg built it, others that it was cast up over a dead king by his people. The truth is, n.o.body here knows who built it, or anything about it, save that it is a wonder. Ah, those people of Llangollen can show nothing like it.'