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Tudalen:Daffr Owen.pdf/96

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Gwirwyd y dudalen hon

crachennau gwaed ar ei gnawd odditanynt, daeth ton o dosturi dros ei hwyneb, ac ebe hi,—"Do you mean to tell me that you have tramped the Rockies to Frazer's Hope?"

"Most of the way, miss," eb yntau, "but it is a long story, and it is hardly fair for me to detain you on the highway, much less to inflict my tale of woe on one I have not the least claim upon."

"On the contrary," ebe hithau, you interest me very much. But you must be famishing. I was going only a little further in any case, and I think I shall turn back right here."

Trodd Daff gyda hi, ac amlwg oedd ei bod hi yn arafu'i chamau i ateb ei gerddediad ef. "Do you think I shall be able to find work here?" eb ef wrthi ychydig yn bryderus.

"Work!" ebe hi wrtho yn ddigllon. "We are not quite pagans here, Mr.——"

"Owen! David Owen," eb yntau.

"Do you not think that rest, food, and clothes are more needed just now, Mr. Owen?"

Nid atebodd Daff ddim ar hyn, ac eb hithau ymhellach, mwy i gadw'r siarad yn y blaen na dim arall,—

"You are Welsh then, Mr. Owen?"

"Yes!"

"I'm so glad!"

Why should the fact of my being Welsh make you glad? Are you Welsh, too?"

"No! I'm Scottish—Jessie Selkirk—but there's an old lady in the house next to us who is Welsh of the Welsh—from Dellas, Dillas, or Dowlais, or some such place, and when she has a fit of homesickness, she makes me play and sing Welsh Airs for her at the piano. But play and sing I ever so well at any time, she says, after thanking me, that I ought to hear the Welsh lads sing. THEY are the singers! You sing, of course, Mr. Owen,—being Welsh?"