The Argosy — page 238: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Among the Welsh. 227 Fair. Jehu, who had been anxiously consulting the clouds for the last half-hour, came round in grand form, with dry rugs and cushions and a beatified countenance. We climbed the hill between the quarries, admired the quality and quantity of the slates; noted that the very poles in the back gardens were made of slate, that walls and palings and even front doors were made of slate; in fact that we were surrounded by an at-. mosphere of slate, until we wondered whether they had discovered a means of making it transparent for windows, and reducing it to an article of food. Up the hill, and past the solitary and deserted house, which defied even the sunshine to make it look cheerful, and over the mountain height, and down again into the lovelier, smiling Valley of the Lledr. Trees overhung the winding river. Far off sloping hills were cut by hedges to their summit, enclosing rich and fertile fields, and making this valley so sunny and rich in appearance. Approaching Bettws-y-Coed, the valley narrowed ; we plunged into the heart of the hills; trees overhung our path. Over the old Waterloo bridge spanning the Lledr, a sharp curve to the nght, and our drive was ended. Just within the passage was the old oak, painted by David Cox, which gives its name to the hotel, and is as much a fixture, I suppose, as the stone of which the house is built, or the ground on which it stands. Certainly it is no wonder that David Cox thought so muclr of the beauties of the neighbourhood. That night the moon rose full of a “divine effulgence” in the dark blue sky, a portion of the landscape illuminated with her pale, soft hght, the rest thrown into deeper shadow. Stars shone as they shine only in frosty weather, or in a pure atmosphere. Hulls: stood out in broad outlines distinctly mapped against the dark heavens. Here and there a light gleamed from a house on the slopes, making: more dense the surrounding blackness. ‘Trees in the moonlight, like dark spectres, stretched forth ghostly but well-clothed arms, for the leaves had not yet begun to fall. The rooks that are for ever cawing round the hotel and peer in at your windows with: black eyes full of mischief, like birds of evil omen, were now silent and unseen. Not a breath of air stirred, and the leaves and the branches had no rustle in them. Except for the noise of the river, which never ceases, everything was shrouded in mysterious, solemn silence. Not a creature was abroad. Silence everywhere: in the plain, and on the hills, and in the air. And over all, the waning moon, pursuing her course, fulfilling her destiny ; a dead world, but One with a mission still, to be accomplished and delivered up only on that day when moons shall wax and wane no more. COnnicloooks (SO