'H'm,' said the smallholder, 'I'm glad to hear that about you.' He put his stick under his arm, and reached for his cherry-wood pipe and filled it with Amlwch tobacco, and as he threw away the match after lighting up, he asked amid a cloud of smoke, 'After finishing your work, will you help the girl with the hens and chicks of an evening, and not go larking about with those daft boys up the lane?'
'I will,' I said once again, lest I be without a place. He drew himself up and pushed out his stomach as if he were the owner of a thousand acres: 'Well, I'll give you two pounds this first season, and if you behave I'll raise it by five shillings by the time winter comes, what do you say, Owen Evans?'
'Well, yes, but aren't you a bit hard with the wages, Gaffer?'
'Hard? What's the matter with you, man? Isn't it enough for him, and he'd have his belly full of food into the bargain? What else does the little bugger want? I don't know what these lads think they are. Where do they expect a farmer to get money from to pay them?'
In the end it was agreed on two pounds, with a down-payment of sixpence to clinch the bargain and all the conditions that went with it. So about eighteen pence a week was my wage when I first found employment, and I was glad enough of the job.
Gw+̂r o Baradwys (Gwasg Gee, 1963)
Gomer M. Roberts
Jenkin was living on his own, in Llety Siencyn, when I first came to know him. He was on the dole at the time, and his only delight in life — apart from reading — was wandering the slopes of Mynydd Penrhys, with a big black dog at his heels. He was a short, stoutish man, with broad shoulders and a large round head. His thick crop of yellowish-red hair was beginning to go grey. It must have been very difficult to put a comb through it, I should think, since it was so frizzy and disorderly. 'My head's a bit like heaven' he used to say, adding in English, 'for there is no parting there!' There had never been a hat or cap on that head of his, for the simple reason that