As I gazed on the mighty tree I thought of the Ash Yggdrasill mentioned in the Voluspa, or prophecy of Vola, that venerable poem which contains so much relating to the mythology of the ancient Norse.
We returned to the inn and dined.

The duck was capital, and I asked John Jones if he had ever tasted a better.

"Never, sir," said he, "for to tell you the truth, I never tasted a duck before." "Rather singular," said I.

"What, that I should not have tasted duck?
Oh, sir, the singularity is, that I should now be tasting duck.

Duck in Wales, sir, is not fare for poor weavers.