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SUNDAY IN BARMOUTH

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SUNDAY IN BARMOUTH We cull the following from "The Kidderminster Shuttle," for August 2nd. Trickling down the side of Mount Morgan comes a little stream which, after many a turn and twist, finds its way at last into Cardigan Bay. On its course it has chattered and babbled through some of the most beauti- ful valleys in Wales, and formed some of its most famous water- falls. Here and there are dotted the homes of some of England's best known worthies, including Darwin the scientist, Frances Power Cobbe, and not least, that sweet writer, Marianne Farning- ham. Eight or ten miles from the sea, the noisy stream suddenly expands into a sheet of water called Penmaenpool, and gradually from this point I broadens into the most beautiful estuary either England or Wales can boast. The scene from the hills near the sea, looking up the river, sur- passes all description, and old Cymry's hoary mountains, includ- ing the Chair of Idris, with all its companions, form a back- ground of strength and beauty unequalled. The mountains are not very lofty, even glorious Cader where the giant Idris sat in the rocky ("chair" on the summit and i studied the stars, is trilling com- j i pared with the Asps; yet its form, and that of these Cambrian rocks is so majestic that no one could treat them as merely hills. These Welsh mountains are robed just now in regal splen- dour, with the deep purple heather and the emerald green fern and down every chain and ridge rush brooks, bright and clear, and in many places leaping into lovely waterfalls. The little stream which afterwards be- comes the broad and brawling Mawddach, runs through the valley from heights far out of sight, just below ITengwrt, the beautiful home of the late Miss Frances Power Cobbe. It meets the almost equally beautiful stream of Wyion, and the two -i, ,i,n d t"ie tvvo together wind their way through the tidal estuary out into the sea at Aber Mawddaeh. It was my happy lot to be able to spend a Sunday or two here .tv, or tv,o here recently, where sea and river meet, and where the nearness of green fields and rugged moun- tains seem to bring so many kinds of scenery within your reach. I had been here some days and had roamed over mountains and through valleys teeming with interest, but it was the first Welsh Sunday that im- pressed me most. It was a glorious day, and as I walked along the promenade in the early morning, the sound of the incoming tide, as the waves tumbled over each other in sheer delight, was like music. The town was fairly full of visitors, but as vet, save for a few watchers by the sea, a straggler here and there along the pro- menade, and a few bathers re- turning from their morning dip with towels slung over their shoulders, all was as calm and peaceful as it was possible to conceive. After breakfast, the hum of stirring life and many voices be- gan to assert themselves, but yet there was a strange Sabbath calm over everything-even the sea seemed to have lost much of its sound. Presently the church bells began to ring, the sound being carried far away in the still morning air. Troops of people were soon passing in every direction, but the majority seemed to have one purpose, and that, the attendance at one or other of the many places ov wor- ship in the town. There ap- peared to be accommodation for everyone, whatever their trend of thought, and in. every street was one or other of the many sections into which the Christian Church is divided. The Church of St. John's, a splendid' structure containing a magnificent organ and exquisite marble front, was mainly the gift ofMrs Dyson Perrins, who also endowed it with a sum of £10,000. It is one of the iinest churches in North Wales, the bells in the tower being a replica of those in Malvern Abbey. I turned into one of the chapels in the main street, and waited for the service to com- mence. It was in reality a Welsh place of worship, but in the season they turn it over to the English visitors, and them- selves (many of them) worship in the adjoining schoolroom. There Was no choir, the singing being led by a precentor, the possessor of a load voice, who stood behind the preacher. The preacher was a Welshman, and before his dis- | course was finished I understood I what was meant by the "hwll" I of the Welsh orator when on fire. j (To bo continued.)