Welsh Journals

have no doubt. Don't you mention a word about it ever again. Come you inside, William Huws." William Huws went into the house. Elin Dafis dried her hands. I'll make you a cup of tea now, William Huws bach," she said. It was about an hour afterwards that William Huws came out again, John Dafis following him. They crossed the garden to the roadway. At the gate John Dafis stopped. Now, come you over as soon as the bailiffs will be there," he said. There's plenty of room here, and a fairish bit of garden, and between us we shall be able to keep going." William Huws went away silent, bent. John Dafis resumed his work in the garden. Elin began again her washing near the doorway. From a plum-tree, in a corner of the garden, a thrush sang out, full-throated. And the sun continued to shine. Anial Dir GO of an evening driving down To Tonypandy through Williamstown Leaving the sickness of defeat Hang over Tonyrefail street That one long leer of dirty red Gaping up like the mouth of the dead The labouring summits rise and swell Propylae of a sunken hell; The road sinks down-to greet it come The shameless streets of battered slum Like hags who long have ceased to please Flaunting their squalor and disease, And a golden evening shimmers down On Penygraig and Williamstown. The streets twist up their wasted hands The clean wind tears from better lands And broken signposts lean askew Half loth to let the traveller through Lest he should learn too well the shame