'
'Crwth! we sha'n't want that.'
'Your people are very fond of music, you know. Your father is very
fond of a musical tea.'
'So he is. I'll take it,' said Sinfi.
IV
When we reached the camping-place on the Carnarvon road we found a
very jolly party. Panuel had had some very successful dealings, and
he was slightly market-merry. He said to Videy, 'Make the tea, Vi,
and let Sinfi hev' hern fust, so that she can play on the Welsh
fiddle while the rest on us are getting ourn. It'll seem jist like
Chester Fair with Jim Burton scrapin' in the dancin' booth to heel
and toe.'
Sinfi soon finished her tea, and began to play some merry dancing
airs, which set Rhona Boswell's limbs twittering till she spilt her
tea in her lap. Then, laughing at the catastrophe, she sprang up
saying, 'I'll dance myself dry,' and began dancing on the sward.
After tea was over the party got too boisterous for Sinfi's taste,
and she said to me, 'Let's slip away, brother, and go up the pathway,
and I'll show you Winnie's favourite place.'
This proposal met my wishes entirely, and under the pretence of going
to look at something on the Carnarvon road we managed to escape from
the party, Sinfi still carrying her crwth and bow.
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