CHAPTER XV.
The Turf Tavern--Don't Understand--The Best Welsh--The Maids of Merion--Old and New--Ruthyn--The Ash Yggdrasill.
We now emerged from the rough and narrow way which we had followed for some miles, upon one much wider, and more commodious, which my guide told me was the coach road from Wrexham to Ruthyn, and going on a little farther we came to an avenue of trees which shaded the road.

It was chiefly composed of ash, sycamore and birch, and looked delightfully cool and shady.

I asked my guide if it belonged to any gentleman's house.

He told me that it did not, but to a public-house, called Tafarn Tywarch, which stood near the end, a little way off the road.

"Why is it called Tafarn Tywarch ?" said I, struck by the name which signifies "the tavern of turf." "It was called so, sir," said John, "because it was originally merely a turf hovel, though at present it consists of good brick and mortar." "Can we breakfast there," said I, "for I feel both hungry and thirsty ?" "Oh yes, sir," said John, "I have heard there is good cheese and cwrw there." We turned off to the "tafarn," which was a decent public-house of rather an antiquated appearance.