I have lost excellent clients, I have never understood why; yet I respect the remains of their literature, I study their language, I attend their gatherings and subscribe the expenses; I consume Welsh mutton with relish; I enjoy the Triads, and can come down on them with a quotation from Catwg the Wise: but it so chanced that I trod on a kibe, and I had to pay the penalty.
There's an Arabian tale, Miss Adister, of a peaceful traveller who ate a date in the desert and flung away the stone, which hit an invisible son of a genie in the eye, and the poor traveller suffered for it.

Well, you commit these mortal injuries to the invisible among the Welsh.

Some of them are hurt if you call them Welsh.

They scout it as the original Saxon title for them.

No, they are Cymry, Cambrians! They have forgiven the Romans.