It was very horrible, and Morva closed the book with a snap, but could not resist the temptation of another peep, as there was something written beneath in Welsh, which translated ran thus: "Here's the ugly old Boy! I tell you beware! If you fall in his clutches there's badly you'll fare! Look here at his picture, his claws and his tail, If you make his acquaintance you're sure to bewail! Hallelujah! Amen! -- GETHIN OWENS." At the last words Morva stood aghast; this then was Gethin's terrible crime! "Oh! there's a boy he must have been!" said the girl, clasping her fingers as she leant over the big Bible.

"Oh! dear, dear! no wonder 'n'wncwl Ebben was so angry! I don't forget how cross he was one day when I let the Bible fall; didn't his face alter! 'Dost remember, girl,' he said, 'it is the Word of God!' and there's frightened I was! Poor Gethin! 'twas hard, though, to turn him away, for all they are such wicked words.

'Hallelujah! Amen!' Well, indeed! the very words that 'n'wncwl Ebben says so solemn after the sermon in Penmorien!" and she shook her head sorrowfully, "and here they are after this song about the devil.

Will would never have done that," and she pondered a little seriously; "but poor Gethin! After all, he was only a boy, and boys do dreadful things--but Will never did! Mother reads her Bible plenty too, but I don't think she would have turned me out when I was a little girl if I had made this song.
I'll tell her to-night, and see what she says about Gethin, poor fellow." She closed and clasped the book, and mounting the table again, replaced it in the hollow at the top of the bookcase, with the stuffed birds and glass case over it.
When Ann and her father returned from chapel, there was a conscious look on her face which they both remarked upon at once.
"What's the matter, Morva ?" asked Ann.
"Is the calf worse ?" asked the old man.
"No," answered the girl, her seriousness vanishing at once.

"Nothing's the matter; the calf is getting quite well." As she spoke Will arrived from church, wearing a black coat and a white cotton tie, his prayer-book under his arm.
Ebben Owens looked at him with an air of proud satisfaction.
"Here comes the parson," he said, and Will smiled graciously even at Morva, whom he generally ignored in the presence of Ann and his father.
"Hast been stopping at home, Morva?
I thought thee wast at chapel." "I am going home now," said the girl, eyeing him rather critically.