"This is the old bridge, sir," said my guide; "it was built a hundred years before the Pont y Cysswllt was dreamt of." We now walked to the west, in the direction of Llangollen, along the bank of the river.

Presently we arrived where the river, after making a bend, formed a pool.

It was shaded by lofty trees, and to all appearance was exceedingly deep.

I stopped to look at it, for I was struck with its gloomy horror.

"That pool, sir," said John Jones, "is called Llyn y Meddwyn, the drunkard's pool.