After a few days' hard walking they reached Pen-ycwd, where some of Glendower's friends were ready to receive him, and here the two parted. It is said that Glendower wept as he embraced the child, and said—

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My child, such a heart as thine is worth a crown of gold.'

"He gave her a silver coin as a remembrance, and under the charge of an old man she trotted back to Llansyllan.

"We can well fancy her, grown to be an old woman, with children and grandchildren clinging to her knee, Jenny Fechan would repeat this story of her youth, and show her silver relic of the brave Glendower.

"After wandering about and suffering many perils and hardships this unfortunate man died in 1415, at his daughter's house in Herefordshire, and it is consolatory to think that his last hours were comforted by the love and presence of one he so tenderly loved. Such is Owen Glendower's history. A brave man, in a good though unsuccessful cause, he will always command respect from the admirers of patriotism, and though no proud monuments are erected to his memory, as have been to that of more successful heroes, he will always live in the hearts of the Welsh people, for whose liberty and happiness he fought so well."

Great applause followed Mr. Roberts's story. "I wish my name was Jenny," said Sylvine; "what

a good, brave little girl she was! and the poor, poor Owen Glendower! How I wish he had gained that battle."

"Depend on it," said Mr. Roberts, "that things

are better ordered than our wishes would have them. Though Glendower was a great and a valiant man, it does not follow that he would have governed well."

"Harry Hotspur was valiant, too," added Jenny, quietly, "and Madcap Harry did not make such a bad king after all his wild freaks, did he, papa ?"

"He was a better king than his father, and possessed many excellent qualities, but he was a great persecutor of the Lollards, or early Protestants, which is a dark stain on his character. You will like to hear, however, that he behaved most generously to the son of his early enemy, poor Hotspur, and restored him to his estates."

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CHAPTER IX.

BEDDGELERT AND THE STORY OF PRINCE LLEWELLYN'S HOUND.—JENNY'S DIARY.

“AUGUST 29TH.-We rose early, at least Sylvine and I did, for we had a great deal to do, and we were to start for Beddgelert at eight o'clock. I could not eat a bit of breakfast, though we had some fresh trout from the river, but Sylvine eat and drank just as though it were an ordinary day and we were going nowhere at all. At eight o'clock the cars came, but we were some minutes getting off, for Beatrice's books, sketching umbrella, and our luggage (I mean Sylvine's and mine), took up a great deal of room.

"It seemed so strange for me to leave papa and Aunt Ana, and I felt almost inclined to cry, but рара said, Why, Jenny, it's only for a week or two, you know ;' and that recalled me to my senses. What a long time we could see them standing at the door as the car crept slowly up the hill: then all at once we turned a corner of the valley, and went on the level road at a quick pace. We passed a great many coaches quite laden with tourists, and I thought how many times I had seen them and wished to jump in and travel about