The Penn's Grove record., 1883-11-03
scenery In Wales

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little blubberng.
scenery in wales
A tour ist in Wales thus sets down
some ideas of his trip in the rugged,
beautiful land. Our first excursion
was to Conway, which has an old castle
built on a great rock jutting out into
the Conway river. This castle was
built by Edward | in 1884, and is in a
very dllapidated condition, owing chic
fly to the many times it wa besieged.
The grand old ruin. from its command
ing position at the entrance of the val
ley, has a most picturesque effect when
seen from the tops of the surrounding
heights. 1t is a parallelogram with
eight round towers, most of which are
still standing, and which, like the walls,
are heavily draped with beautiful ivy,
To the north was the Great Orms Head,
with landLudno. the most fashionable
watering place in North Wales. at its
| foot; to the east, the Vale of Lianwest,
with the narrow, silver ribbon OF the
Conway winding in and out as far as.
the eye conld reach; at the south, the
rugged peaks of the Welsh hills, with
Penmaenmawr standing as a sentinel
on the seashOre.
In Conway there are also other
scenes of interest. An old house
called "Plas Manor" Great Housed, is
where Queen Elizabeth spent some time.
The largest room in it is the brewing
! room, paneled in oak that is black with
- Uu.o r,-,fN,r-nH;n ole. &c oh n,.l
when we saw 1t, was adorned with the
| weekly wash of one of the families that
live in the house, Up a winding stair.
a room is pointed out as the Queens
bedroom now occupied by an infant
school, presided over by a miss of IL
years. 1t has a bed in one corner,
where any weary midget may take a
nap during school hoursl Such consid-
Grafton of the children's comfort sur
passes that of our school boards.
In the church at Conway we saw the
tomb of Alderman Hopes, in the altar
floor. AS the tablet above him states,
he twas the father of twenty-seven
children, and wa the forty-frst child
of his fatherl" Fame may be achieved
in more waysthan one In the church,
yard without, Wordsworth met the
little maid" whose quaint answer
suggested the poem, "We are Seven,
Carnarvon Castle is two hours ride
from Conway, and the railroad rams
along the ~seasbore, affording beautiful
views of both land and water and of
the villages nestled in the quiet valleys.
This castle is much larger than the
Conway Castle, but is not so pictures
que, as it is in a much better state of
preservation and has but little ivy Oh
its walls. The interest is drawn prin-
clpally to the eagle Tower, where the
first Prince of Wales was born.
1t was, however on a particularly fine
day that we started for Snowden, the
highest peak in England or Wales. 1t is
$3.50 feet high, and on clear daysL
grand view of 80 miles on either hand
rewards the climber. The Cheshire
hills, a corne Of Scotland, and a hill
in Ireland can be distinctly seen, but
there are few who are fortunate enough
to have such a treat owing to the
the train at Llanberrles, called the
''Chamounix of Wales" and com
menced the ascent, a climb of about
We and one half miles from this point,
over the toughest imaginable road. 1t
is composed of sharp stones from the
guarries thrown into the bed of a
brook. al EfSstL
1t marks the path and thus saves the
necessity of a guide, but has no other
advantage. 1t was very bad, especially
for the fair oneS' of our party. We
found little Welsh children always in
waiting to open gates and beg for
pennies" or, if particularly modest,
for a F'ha'penny." Some little mites.
certainly not over seven years, offered
to guide is to the top of Snowden. Their
of the party who addressed them i'll
Spanish. For a moment they are puz-
zled, 1t was not English or Welsh,
and at last one of the little chaps said,
with an indignant air, "Dym Cymrogl"
("That is not Welshl") The hnguist
was taken aback to find that her attain
ments were supposed to be a bad at
tempt to speak the child's native
tongue
Before we had walked far, our slime
day" had changed, the am began,
and the prospect was decidedly dis
.couraging. But having read in the
guide books that often when it was
raining in the valleys it would clear
most Unexpectedly, we struggled on
until we reached the halfway house.
No hope awaited us there. The de-
ISOLATION of the mountain side, looming
up black and threatening through the
fog, combined with the rain to dis.
courage any further attempt.
Far below us we could see a little
lake, the water so black and still as to
suggest the idea Of some monster wal
ting to receive into its depths any
taveler who, too venturesome, should
approach the edge of the precipice
above. A lifting of the fog induced us
to go on, and on arriving at the summit
we found other tourists drenched and
dripping like ourselves. Some huts
and a huge cairn of rough stones mark
the highest spot. Attire and some warm
tea soon revived us, so that we were
even able to eat some of a huge loaf of
bread almost as hard as the rocks that
composed the cairn. Beddgelert is a
quiet little town, boasting of name and
fame from the faithful hound Gelert,
the ~favorite of Prince Llewellyn. The
legend is familiar to all, how in his
nasty anger Llewellyn SHOT the dog,
thinking he had killed his child, and
then found the babe unhurt by the side
Of the wolf the hound had Killed. A
tree in the field marks the grave.
TIA arnnaaofrI raaY,iNa oktoyNIsr1 kt,a