Beggars on horseback; a riding tour in North Wales . CK. and only thing that Miss OFlannigan desired tosee was a Welsh woman in a Welsh hat; but this,the landlady was forced to admit, was the oneand only thing not procurable in Dolgelly. Therewas the sextoness of the church, an octogenarian,who had preserved her mothers hat—perhaps shewould do. In half an hour Miss OFlannigan wasdriving the octogenarian before her, carrying aband-box as old and yellow as herself; and therest of the morning was spent in the seclusion ofthe hotel garden, where, seated on an upturnedbucket, the octogenarian balan
Beggars on horseback; a riding tour in North Wales . CK. and only thing that Miss OFlannigan desired tosee was a Welsh woman in a Welsh hat; but this,the landlady was forced to admit, was the oneand only thing not procurable in Dolgelly. Therewas the sextoness of the church, an octogenarian,who had preserved her mothers hat—perhaps shewould do. In half an hour Miss OFlannigan wasdriving the octogenarian before her, carrying aband-box as old and yellow as herself; and therest of the morning was spent in the seclusion ofthe hotel garden, where, seated on an upturnedbucket, the octogenarian balanced the heirloomupon her spotted cap, while Miss OFlanniganproduced studies of her that were more forciblethan polite. I, no less enjoyably to myself, sat on a wheel-barrow in the stable, and laid down the law tothe landlord, the ostler, and the saddler about chambering the stuffing of one of the saddlesso as to fit certain swellings which had appearedon Toms back, which might be the result ofwarbles, or of an ill-fitting saddle, or of the sudden. The sextoness of Dolgelly. BEGGARS ON HORSEBACK. 69 rise to the dignity of oats, but were certainlycapable of unpleasant developments. Tommyshard, yellow hide remained unaltered by saddle,oats, curry-comb, or any other of its new condi-tions. Looks were not his strong point, but wealready relied on him—and there was somethingattractive in the conscientious way in which heshied at gate-posts, cows in the field, and otherstartling and irregular objects. It was already far in the afternoon when we rodeout over the bridge at Dolgelly, where a singletrickle of water crept through the central sky had mackerel backs in it, the trees stirreddelicately to a newly awakened breeze, and thebarometer was still falling. The puggarees werepacked up, and the pink parasol was furled, butthey were doing their appointed work, and thechange came slowly nearer. In the meantime wewent on and up through wooded glens, past theideally placed litt
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