ABSTRACT

To one who has twice crossed the Atlantic ocean, the passage between Dublin and Holyhead seems little more than a ferry, and was indeed performed by Ned with almost as little trouble as one o en passes a moderate river; for very soon a er he got on board he laid himself down in his birth, and gave full scope to those pleasing hopes which could not fail to rise in his mind, whether he contemplated those dear friends whom he was going to see, or those whom he had lately le , and to whom he intended shortly to return. ese tranquillizing ideas soon soothed him into sleep; from which he did not awake till David about eight in the morning came to tell him they were just going into the harbour. He was not long in/ jumping upon deck, and once more hailing the sublime shores over which St. David presides. He staid no longer at the Head than to refresh his horses a little a er their voyage, and then set forward to Gwindu, intending to breakfast with the good landlady there, Mrs. Knowles, whose house nobody will pass who has once experienced the neatness, cheapness, and kindness of her entertainment. Poor Mrs. Knowles at the time when he arrived there was not able to move farther than from her bed to her easy chair, being con ned by a severe t of the rheumatism, to which she was extremely subject; but when she heard of Edward being there, she invited him into her room, and ordered his breakfast beside herself, that she might not lose a minute of his company while he staid; and indeed she kept him near two hours, hearing his adventures, and entertaining him in her turn with the recent occurrences of the neighbourhood. At last he set forward/ again, and a little before two beheld the venerable brow of Penmanmawr, which overhung his father’s dwelling. His heart beat with a quicker motion; a few minutes more brought him to the turning of the road, from whence, between two aged oaks, the humble, but neat and rural dwelling rst presents its unobtrusive front. is was the very spot in which he had taken his last lingering look of his dear mother, and in this very spot did the kind fates ordain that she should be at this instant walking, and leaning on the arm of her good and tender husband: their backs indeed were turned, for they had been taking a little walk together, and were now returning home to dinner. ey heard the trampling of the horses – they stopped; they turned – they saw their long-

lost Edward, in all the bloom and vigour of health. e mother screamed with joy. She snatched her hand from under her good man’s arm, and ran towards her son./ Ned jumped from his horse. – ‘’Tis he! ’tis he! it is my Edward!’ she cried, as she strained him to her bosom; whilst honest Evans, with more temperate but not less real satisfaction, rst raised his eyes in gratitude to Heaven, and then embraced Edward in his turn. Joy soon communicated itself through the whole neighbourhood. Our honest curate now welcomed David home again, whose father and mother also soon made their appearance, and thought as much of their hero, and not without reason, as if they had been ever so great. David did not think so much of himself, however, as to forget the horses. He and his father put them into the stable, beside old Blackbird, who was still living, and did not seem to relish the intrusion, but who grew better pleased when he partook of the plentiful fare with which the two noble strangers were entertained.