The Pembroke County Guardian and Cardigan Reporter

Dd. u uasr hall ohebiaethau Cymreig i swyddfa bolxach. Ni4 ydym yn gyfrifol am syniadau ein goheb- wyr. Ys^rifenar ag ingc, ar an tu o'r ddalen, ac nor elur ag sydd bosibl fel na byddo perygl i'r cypodydd gamddeall yr ysgrifen. Rh-aid i'r holl gyfansoddiadau ddanfonir i fewn f rJl ag enw'r awdwr wrthynt. Os am fod o dan 2v.je:r.v, torer yr enw priodol ar gefn y papyt GOLYGYDD—KILMOREY, Swyddfa'r Guardian," Solfach, S.O.

AT ElN GOHEBWYR. A>TLLYDD.—Drwg genym i ni fethu cyhoeddi eich vsgrif werthfawr yr wythnos hon. J.—Yr ydych wedi ysgrifenu ar destyn digon vi-jncorol Dewch etto, yn wir. t B«Jl'J.ALL i'DD.—Croesaw cynes iawn. Y mae t-ich darnau yn dlws, ac yn dderbyniol fel arfer. AL £ AXGLAWDD.—Wedi hir ddisgwyl. etto yn amyneddgar, eafwyd eich cwmni chwithau. Derbynir hefyd a breichiau agored. TW,"I.—Ffyddlon iawn ydych chwi i'r Golofn, ac am hyny, yr ydym yn dra ddiolchgar. Cyhoeddwn y darn digrifol; mae i wrth- ddrych y testyn berthynasau agos yn Sir Benfro. B'EYXACH.—Sawl cysgadwr sydd? W. JENKINS.—Yr ydym yn disgwyl am y "nodion." Peidiwch a'n siomi. Cofion ddi- ragith at bawb.—GOL.

LLESTR GWAG WNA FWYA' SWN. Tad: Dyma i chwi hen ddiareb i sylwi arni; ac. i ymddiddan am ychydig amser yn ei ehylch; mae'n debyg i chwi ei chlywed o'r blaen.—"Llestr gwag wna fwya' o swn." John: Do, fy nhad, mi glywais fy ewythr Morgan o'r Bryn, yn dweyd rywbeth tebyg urrwaith wrth un o'r gweision ag oedd yn ad- rodd ryw chwedl lied fras am dano ei hun. Tad:Wel, os byddwch chwi yn ddistaw yn awr am ddeng mynyd neu chwarter awr, mi adroddaf i chwi hanesyn difyrus am fachgen yn dyfod adref o'r ysgol yn y gwyliau ganol yr haf. Ymddygiad yr hwn oedd yn esboniad j gv^ch o'r hen ddiareb dan ein sylw. 'Tst, mae rhywun yn curo wrth y drws! P-afr sydd yna-beth yw'r mater, Maryf "0, y 'carrier' sydd wedi dyfod a bocs Master William, ma'm." Purion; ceisiwch ganddo ddyfod ag ef i mewn i'r gegin. Gadewch i mi gaol gweled a ydyw pobpeth yn iawn. Ie, dyma'r bocs. Pa faint sydd am ei gario?" "Deunaw ceiniog," atebai y carrier. "Holo! p'le mae'r 'carpet bag' etto?" "Ie'n wir hefyd. 'Rhoswch chwi fynyd. mae hwnw etto ar gael. DjTria fe ma"IIl. A oes rhywbeth arall, ma'm?" -Na, dim arall, John." "O'r goreu ma'm: 'all right then.' Nos dawch ma'm, a diolch i chwi." Ychydig fynydau ar ol hyn gwelyd Elen a'i' chwaer fach yn eistedd ar ochr y ffordd yn ectrjch ac yn dysgwyl am y 'coach,' yr hwn oedd i ddyfod a'i brawd adref o'r ysgol. Yr oedd yn myned braidd yn hwyr, a mawr oedd ei dymuniad am ei weled yn dod, canys yr oedd ganddynt lawer o bethau i'w dweyd wrtho y noswaith hono cyn myned i'r gwely. I Yr oedd y wenol olaf wedi canu nos dawch iddynt; ond dyna lie yr oeddynt hwy yn Bytwi. ar oleu rhuddgoch yr haul ar ben y ty, a'r pelydrau dysglaer a ymluchient yn ol oddiar y gwydr. Yr oeddynt wedi bod yn edrych ychydig ar y gwvbed yn chwareu, yn awr yn dawel a diar- swyd trwy fod y gwenoliau wedi myn'd i gyS'gu. gwelent yr ystlumod hefyd yn ehedeg oddeutu eu penau, ac ymdrechent eu goreu eú: d in, ond nis gallent. Yr oeddynt wedi bod yn gwrandaw ar y gwyddau ar y llanerch las' tu cefn y ty yn canu eu hemyn hwyrol: a'r asen, yr hon oedd wedi bod yn ymdreiglio yn y llwch, yn awr yn cyduno a'u cyd-gan aflafar. Yr oeddynt wedi bod yn gwrandaw ar swyn olwynion, yr hyn a d- nl :ll:>n i fod yn gart—ar olwynion 'omni- bus'—ar olwynion 'caravan,' ond yn awr clyw- sairt dau o geffylau, benau pedwar o geffylau, ben 'coachman,' benau rhai ymdeithwyr, coes- au pedwar o geffylau—yna pedair o olwynion cochion, y rhai y gwyddent oeddynt yn perthyn i'r cerbyd oedd i ddyfod a'u brawd anwyl hwy o'r ysgol. Felly, o'r diwedd, eu brawd a ddaeth; tynas- ant ef allan o'r cerbyd, a phob un yn cydio yn mhob ei law, llusgasant ef i'r ty, ac a'i cofleid- 'd LL cusaaasant, ac a ddawnsiaeant o'i j-.iiglych bron yn ddi-ddiwedd, fel yr oedd yr iawn ac yn weddus i chwiorydd hoffua v -eiid. "Rhyfedd mor felyn yr ydych yn edrych Wi.r:,Tn; ac 0, fel yr ydych wedi tyfu; med- .i oh *?r Jane wrtho, wedi iddynt orphen yfed te; "a'r fath ddwylaw mawrion sydd gan-' d4 onite, mam! 0, gadewch i ni fyned i'r ardd, y mae genyf gymaint o bethau i'w ddweyd wrtho." "Edrychwch yma, William!" meddai ei chwaer fach wrth, "welwch chwi ein ci newydd ni—'Carlo' yw ei enw ef." "Ie'n wir, wyddoch chwi, mae e'n gi 'glor- ious,' medd William. Yr oedd ei chwaer fach yn gwrandaw ac yn ymddangos fel pe &a buasai wedi clywed pethau fel hyn o'r blaen; nid oedd yn medru deal! pa fodd y gallai y ci fod yn 'glorious,' ord yr oedd yn meddwl ei fod yn rhywbeth da iawn. "Dewch gael gweled y pysgod yn y llyn," meddai Elen. "0, y maent yn rhyfedd o 'splen- dacious!" atebai William. "Dewch i lawr i w&elod yr ardd i gael gweled y gwenyn. Dyma gwch gwydr; nis gallwch ei gweled yn dda heno, oblegid y maent yn cysgu." "0, ie, hen gyfeillion 'jolly' yw gwenyn," meddai William; "y maent yn gwneyd llwythi o fel onirl ydynt'?" "Beth! na, na, nid ydynt wedi gwneud un llwyth cart etto," medd Jane, "os llwyth cart yr ydych yn ei feddwl; ond pa beth ydych yn ei feddwl wrth alw'r gwenyn yn "jolly," Wil- liam V "Oh, ryw air yw "jolly I" fy meddwl yw eu bod yn hoffi dyfyrwch, wyddoch-eu bod yn hedeg o amgylch am helfa. Gadewch i ni fyned gael gweled ein gerddi bach—sut y mae fy nglued 'roses' i yn d'od y mlaen erbyn hyn ? "O'r goraf, nyni a awn," atebai Elen; "yr ydym wedi cadw eich gardd chwi mewn trefn. Dyma hi, a'n gerddi ni bob ochr iddi. Dyma ryw fath o 'bell-flower' hyfryd iawn f Nid ydym yn gwybod pa beth y mae yn cael ei alw." "Y 'Campanula rotundifolia,' yw hwn," med- dai Wiiliam. "Edrychwch ar y 'fox-glove' yma, William." William: "Ho, dyna'r Digitalis purpuera." "A gwelwch mor dal y mae fy 'holly-hock' i yn tyfu!" William: "Alsea Rosea' yw hwna." "Pa beth? William—'hollyhock' yr ydym ni yn arfer ei alw, ao felly mae fy nhad hefyd. 0, William! yr ydych chwi am ein gwawdio ni." Wiiliam: "0, nac ydwyf; dyma'r enwau sydd arnynt mewn llyfrau dysgedig—enwau Lladin ydynt. Ond o ran hynny, nid ydych chwi wedi dysgu Lladin etto-felly bydd yn hir cyn y deuwcli i'w gwybod." Yr oedd eu tad wedi addaw i'r plant y caent aros i lawr y noswaith hono, felly hwy a aeth- ant yn awr i mewn i swper. "Wei, William," meddai ei dad, "mae'n dda genyf eich gweled yn edrych mor dda ac mor gryf. Yr ydych yn awr yn un-flwydd-ar-ddeg oed-ac yr wyf yn sicr gan eich bod wedi dysg-a cymaint yn yr ysgol, y bydd yn dda genych addysgu tipyn ar eich chwiorydd yn ystod eich gwyliau. Addysgwch hwynt gymaint ag a alloch. "0. fy nhad," atebai Elen, y mae wedi dysgn i ni ddau neu dri o bethau yn barod. Mae'n galw ein 'Dell-flower' ni yn 'Campanula rotundifolia'—yr 'hollyhock' yn 'Alcea' rywbeth, ac mai enwau Lladin ydynt." "A'r pysgod," medd Jane, "y mae y rhai hyny yn 'splendacious." "Pa beth ydynt?" gofynai y tad, gan edrych yn lied anfoddlon. "0, myfi a ddywedodd fod y pysgod yn 'splen- dacious," atebai William, gan wrido ychydig. "Nid yw Jane yn deall, mae hi yn meddwl mai Lladin yw—'dyw e' ddim ond rhyw air sydd genyf fi." "Ond, William, nid dyna'r fath ddysgeid- iaeth sydd amaf fl eisiau i'ch chwiorydd," atebai y tad. 'Rwyn dymuno i chwi ddyagu aynwyr iddynt. ac nid ewn. Nid yw yn rhyw gamp fawr i ddysgu hyd y nod yr enwau Lladin ar flodeu; nid ydynt hwy ond geiriau, na ddim gwell na geiriau Sacaoneg neu Gymreig, canys gallai pioden (mag-pie) eu dysgu i gyd. Buasai yn well genyf o lawer pe buasech wedi dysgu rhywbeth yn nghylch natur y blodeu, fel y gallech feddwl am danynt, yr hyn nis gall y bioden wneyd. Dichon y gallai eich chwiorydd eich helpu i wneyd hyntiy. "Ond mewn perthynas i'r geiriau eraill, Wil- liam Yr oeddych yn galw y pyegod yn 'splen- dacious'-a chlywodd eich mam chwi yn galw y gwenyn yn 'jolly'—a'r ci yn 'glorious.' Wyd- doch chwi beth, nid wyf yn amheu na theim- lai 'Carlo' ei hunan yn anhapus pe bai yn deall ei fod yn cael ei alw yn 'glorious,' canys byddai yn gwybod mai swn heb sylwedd fyd- dai. Gallwch fod yn sicr gan hynny, er y gallech chwi feddwl i fod y fath eiriau a hyn yn rhai braf iawn, am eu bod yn swnio yn lied fras, nad ydynt ond geiriau gwag a ffol. Mae'n ddigon hawdd dweyd y fath eiriau-ond nid oes neb ond y sawl fyddo a'u penau yn bur wag o.'u defnyddiant. Gobeithiaf, William, nad yw eich meddwl chwi delim yn wag, ond ei fod wedi ei lanw a rhywbeth heb swn. Gadewch i mi gael clywed pa beth fuoell yn ei ddysgu yn yr ysgol." "Cewch siwr, fy nhad." atebai William, "yn union;" oblegid yr oedd arno cisiau dangos ei fod yn gwybod rywbeth heblaw enwau, felly, efe a ddechreuodd adrodd dernyn Seisneg, yn dechreu fel hyn:- "My name is Norval; On the Grampian Hills my father feeds his flock-" Adroddodd y dernyn wrth ei dad gyda chryn hwylusder a bywiogrwydd-gan edrych weithiau yn dra Ilym-bryd arall yn fwynaidd-yn dweyd yn awr a llais uchel-drachfn yn isel ac araf. Felly ei chwiorydd a dybient ei fod yn adrodd yn dda iawn. Yna efe a adroddodd dderyn arall, yn dech- reu fel hyn:- "Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors!" "Wel, William," meddai ei dad, "chwi ad- roddasoch y rhai yna yn bur dda, ond nid wyf mor awyddus am i chwi allu dweyd yn dda, a meddwl yn dda. Yr ydych yn dwyn ar fy nghof hanes am ddyn yn America ag y dymun- wn i chwi ei glywed. "Yr oedd gan Genadwr, ag oedd yn byw yn mhlith Indiaid Gogledd America, was ag oedd yn hoff iawn o wneuthur areithiau mawrion a rhodresgar. Un diwrnod, pan yr oedd y Cenadwr yn myned heibio trwy'r coed, efe a glywai ryw swn dyeithr, a thrwst dynion yn euro dwylaw fel ag y bydfl pobl mewn cyfarfod cyhoeddus weithiau. Wrth edrych efe a ganfu ei was yn sefyll ar ben clawdd a thwr o Ind- iaid yn ei amgylchu. Er nad oedd y dyn yn deall iaith yr Indiaid, etto efe a wna ddigon o swn, fel swn araeth fawr iddynt. Yr Indiaid a wrandawent gyda'r astudrwydd mwyaf, ac nid oedd ganddynt yr amheuaeth lleiaf nad oed- dynt yn gwrandaw ar eu hiaith eu hunain, ond yn unig fod yr areithiwr yn siarad mewn dull rhy uchel iddynt hwy allu ei ddeall. "Nid oedd gan y gwas un drych-feddwl i'w roddi iddynt, oblegid gwag hollol oedd ei ben ef ei hun-felly yr Indiaid druain a aethant ymaith gyda phenau gweigion eu hunain hefyd. Nid oeddent wedi cael dim ond swn uchel a bywiog-nid oedd gair o synwyr wedi cael ei lefaru. "Yr un modd y mae gyda phobl ereill, Wil- liam. Y rhai hynny ag y mae iddynt feddyl- iau bychain ydynt yn gyffredin a'u swn yn uchel: y rhai ydynt yn dweyd fwyaf yw y rhai ydynt yn meuawl leiaf. "Pe tarawech nifer o lestri a ffon, ac i un o honynt wneyd swn mawr a dwfn, deallwch ar v nwaith mai un gwag fyddai hwnw. Felly, wrth sylwi ar eich hoffder chwithau. William, o eiriau mawr, enwau Lladin, ac areithiau godi- dog o ran iaith a dull, yr wyf yn ofni yn fawr pan yr holaf chwi yfory, na chaf lawer o ddrych-feddyliau yn eich pen; gobeithiaf, er hynny, nad yw yn hollol wag; ond y mae yr hen ddiareb bob amser wedi bod, ac yn parhau i fod yn wir, sef mai "Lestr gwag wna fwya' o swnt" J.

O'r PwJl Glo i r Sesedd. Mewn ysgrif fywgraffyddol o Mr. Sam Woods, yr aelod Seneddol dros Walthamstow, a ym- ddangosodd yn ddiweddar mewn rhifyn o'r M. A. P., dywed Mr. Woods wrth gyfeirio at ei ddyddiau boreual:— "Gweithiais am ugain mlynedd yn y lofa, gan lanw pob safle, a chyflawni pob gwaith, o yru merlyn i fynu i fod yn swyddog yn y tofa, ac fel canlyniad naturiol yn ystod y blynyddau hyny ar gyflrif yr oriau hirion a weithiwn, di- gwyddai yn fynych na welwn oleu dydd Xn ystod y gauaf, o un hwyr Sul hyd foreu y Sul nesaf. I lawr o'm blynyddau boreuaf modd bynag, hyd yr amser presenol, yr wyf wedi dilyn yr Ysgol Sul yn gyson, ac ynddi hi y cefais gyfleusderau i ddysgu darllen. Pan yn 16eg oed drwy dref ddoeth Rhaglun- iaeth, daeth gweinidog ieuanc perthynol i'r Bedyddwyr, rhyw bedair blwydd hynach na mi, i fyw i'r gymydogaeth lie yr oeddwn. Cymerai y boneddwr hwn ddyddordeb dwfn yn mwnwyr ieuainc yr ardaL Cof genyf iddo gymeryd ataf fi yn neillduol, ac am ddwy flynedd bum dan ei ddylanwad uniongyrchol. Yn 18 oed yr oed- dwn wedi gwneud cymaint cynydd yn fy myfyr- dodau, fel y gwnaed cais at y Parch C. H. Spurgeon am fy nerbyn i'w goleg ef er mwyn fy mharotoi i'r weinidogaeth, a roddwyd ad- dewid am y lie gwag nesaf yn y coleg, ond wedi ystyried y mater yn llanwach gan fy nhad, i'r hwn yr oeddwn yn gweithio yn y lofa —cododd wrthwynebiad i mi fyned, am efallai y buasai yn golled arianol i'r teulu, a bu raid i mi droi fy sylw at rywbeth arall." Ddajllenydd ieuanc, ti a weli yn hanes Mr. Sam Woods, A.S., mai ffordd sicr i anrhydedd yw dilyn yr Ysgol Sul. K.

Y Cysgwr yn y Capel. Adwaenwn y gwr er's blynyddau, Cartrefai yn ) my I ty ni, Anfynych yr elai i'r oedfa Os n. cheid pregethwr o fri; Mil gwell fyddai ganddo fod gartxef Yn eistedd a'i ben yn y tan, Na meddwl am fyn'd i'r addoldy Un felly oedd gwrthrych y gan. Un tro aethum at fy nghymydog, Gofynais, "Dewch gyda mi p'nawn I'r capel, mae'n werth i chwi ddyfod, Mae genym bregethwr da iawn;" Ac wedi hir erfyn cydsyniodd, Ac yno yr aethom ein dau, A minau yn addaw yn sicr Y cawsai y brawd ei foddhau, Myfyriwr dechreuodd yr oedfa Yn syml, er hyny'n llawn gwrea, Ac wedi i ni ganu dau emyn, Caed casgliad o arian a phres, Ac yna dechreuai'r pregethwr A gwnaeth ragymadrodd lied hir, A rhoddai besychiad dwfndreiddiol Er gallu llefaru'n fwy clir. Eisteddai'm cymydog a minau Mewn sedd oedd yn ymyl y doc A gwelwn yn fuan fod "Huwcyn," Yn siwr o'i orchfygu ef toe; Agorai a chauai ei lygaid Yn araf a phoenus, ddi-drefn, Ac yna fe neidiau yn sydyn, 'Roedd chwanen yn gwaedu ei gefn! Brawychodd am eiliad ac yna Gwrandawai am fynud neu ddau, Er gwaethaf pob ymdrech mae'n methu A chadw ei lygaid rhag cauj Dechreuai a chwyrnu yn uchel, Breuddwydiai ei fod yn y tren, Yn myned i ffair Abergele, A'i drwyn a gusanai ei en. Rhoddais bwniad yn gyflym yw ddeffro A gwaeddai'r pregethfcrryil'tiwch, I A d'wedodd fy nghyfaill "Byddwch lonydd, I Mi roddaf ddeg bunt am y fuwch!" Pan clywodd y dyrfa yn chwerthin Deffrodd, ac edrychodd yn syn, A rhuthrodd trwy'r drws i fyn'd adref, Ai wyneb fel niarmor yn wyn. Mae llawer yn fynych i'w gweled Yn debyg i hwn yn ddiau; Ar ol iddynt ddyfod i'r capel Cewch weled eu llygaid yn cau; Meddyliaf mae cynllun rhagorol Fyddai rhybudd yn cynwys un 'litLe,* "Pwy bynag a gysgo mewn oedfa, A gosbir i 'bum punt o fine:" DEINIOL FYCHAN. Y PEIRIANT HEDEDOG. Drwy'n hawel aderyn newydd—yw hwn, A luniwyd yn gelfydd,— Od a ar rawd yr 'Hedydd, Bobol bach I heb eu blu bydd. DEWI MYRNACH. GWYRTH. Dwyfol weithred mewn caledi,—graa Duw Ar gwrs deddf yn tori,— Eiddo gwaedd ffydd a gweddi,— RhagorwaJth lor,—Gwyrth yw hit 'GWYDDERIG.

Digon o Ddefnyddiau. Yn ystod y tywydd poeth a Uuwchiog, yr oedd athrawes yn holi bachgenyn pum mlwydd oed, yr hwn oedd a golwg sobr arno:- "0 ba beth y gwnaeth Duw Adda, Iackî" Wyddai Jack ddim. "Gwnaeth Duw Adda o lwch y ddaear," med- dai'r athrawes. Meddyliodd Jack ychydig, ac yna dywedodd yn safwlffrtn: "Fe allsal wneud Uawer o honi nhw nawr, oni alai fe, Mise Karyr •

I Y Plentyn. I Mwyn blentyn bach, ar drothwy'r byd, Chwareua gyda'i degan, Tra cerddi ei fj.m o gylch ei gryd Yn gwneud ei fron yn ddiddan; Hoff wen ei dad fel heulwen nawn, Ddisgyna'n dyner arno, Nes gwelir yno ddarlun llawn 0 gariad yn blodeuo. Y cyntaf daith o gol ei fam Gychwyna'n lion ei galon, Ond profa rhoi y cyntaf gam Fud yn y byd helbulon; Ond drws y ty-ei uchel nod- Gyrhaedda un prydnawnddydd, Tra cwmwl serch yn tori'n glod Ar ben y teithiwr newydd. 0 ddrws y ty fe wel y byd Yn agor fel paradwys, A chymyl teg gobeithion hud Ddiferant arno'u cynwys; Gadawa'r drws i wel'd yr ardd Yn nghwmni ei gyfoedion, Tra gwena pob blodeuyn hardd, Gan swyn ei ruddiau tlysion. Sirioldeb pur yr angel mwyn Sy'n dawnsio ar ei ddwyrudd, Gan chwareu gydag hudol swyn, Dros dannau diniweidrwydd; Ei lygad lion fel arian clir, Ddysgleiriant gan obeithion, Wrth wel'd copaon uchel dir Yn taflu eu cysgodion. Cysuron teg fel blodau ha' Ganfydda yn y pellder, Ei galon fechan a'u mwynha Flynyddau cyn yr amser; Bwriadau gwyn fel ewyn ton, Sy'n chwyddo yn ei fynwes, Tra llwybrau gwyrdd y ddaear hon Yn gwneutliur iddo hanes. Yn llaw ei dad i'r Ysgol Sul, Cyfeiria'r 'tlws' ei gamrau, I ddysgu am y Ilwybr cul, Ac am y Cyfaill Goreu; Mor fwyn y gwena'r bychan lion, Wrth wrando am yr Iesu, Yr hen, hen hanes dania'i fron, Mae'n nefoedd i'w rieni. Yn fuan daw y plentyn hardd I- fyn'd ar negeaeuau, Mor chwim ei droed a meddwl bardd Wrth erlid drychfeddyliau; Fe ddringa'r bryn ar ol yr wyn, A chwilia'r nant am bysgod, A chana gerddi Cymru fwyn Gan lwyr anghofio'i drallod. Dadblyga'n ddyn ar faes y byd. Gorchfyga lawer gelyn, Ond cofio'r llwybrau wna o hyJ A rodiodd pan yn blentyn; Fe gofia'r ardd, a thy ei dad, Lie treuliodd foreu bywyd, A thry'r adgofion yn fwynhad Ar Ilryniau gwyrddlas gwynfyd. Hebron. S. P.

IMPRESSIONS OF PARIS. Pleasures Crammed into a Week of Hustling Sight-Seaing. (By R. W. TROWSDALE.) (Continued from last week). More grim reminders of the days when France waded through seas of blood to ulti- mate freedom we found in La Roquette Prison, where the guillotine performed its ghastly public function. To more than one mind must have come thoughts of Dickens' great charac- ter, Sydney Carton, who found in self-chosen death the joy he knew not in his useless life. Let us hasten, however, from these grim relics. The July Column occupies the site of another monument inseparably associated with the de- fence of public liberty-the Bastille, which was taken by the mob and destroyed in 1879. En route we pass the Central Markets, a place which supplied the majority of the "Amazons" who took a leading part in the Revolution. We make a long halt at what has been rightly termed the shrine of all France—Napoleon's Tomb. A CONSECRATED SPOT. Truly a visit to Paris is incomplete without viewing this magnificent monument. I asked a patriot how it was that no place or street had been honoured with the name of the great- est of all Frenchmen. He replied that it would have been a slight to the memory of Napoleon to have named a mere street after him. And I think, viewing Napoleon through French spectacles, he was right. Over the en- trance to the crypt is the national hero's testamentary request:— "I desire that my ashes may rest on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people I have so greatly loved. The tomb is the work of Visconti, and to ob- tain an idea of its grandeur and beauty it must be visited; words utterly fail to portray its magnificence. It is the gem of France. Ere we reach home—our temporary home—wo also view Pont Alexandre III ( a feature of the exhibition of 1900), the Trocadero, and the famous Eiffel Tower. Our party is strong in bachelors, and the evening sees a big invasion of the famous Parisian music-halls. Everything is fright- fully fascinating, as Wendy (the heroine of J. M. Barrie's great play) wouldway. The halla are not run exactly on British lines, or in strict accordance with our sense of decorum; even Mrs. Grundy might find just cause for taking them to task. At the same time they are not very terrible, but an Englishman would cer- tainly think twice before taking an English girl into them. INFECTIOUS PLEASURE. Thera is a form of madness which attacks, in various degrees of severity, most teurists who visit the Gay City; a spirit of mild dissipation engendered by environment which few ordi- nary mortals care to resist. It attacks middle- aged as well as young men, and in this event- ful week I write of I saw the spirit of youth striving, and partially succeeding, to break down the barrier of a sense of passing years in men who had long passed the half-way house in life s journey. Not that they had lost the grains of wisdom picked up on the Great Road; far from it. But they were, like most of us, enjoying a time of modest revelry which in the years to come would be recalled with lingering regret as a period when life's little worries and conventional restraint were thank- fully thrust aside. None of us, I think, were very badly smitten, but we wanted to forget the dreary office desk, musty ledger, and uncomfortable stool, the incessant din of the workshop, and the hum- drum routine of our existence. And so the tiny seed of dissipation grew and thrived. We had no occasion to use the oft-quoted injunc- tion. "When in Rome but unanimously conformed to the exigencies of the moment. The notorious Can-Can must, of course, be seen to satisfy curiosity; therefore we proceed, a strictly bachelor party, to the Moulin Rouge. I think it was Mark Twain who, in describing the fascination of this extraordinary dance over the English and American visitors, said the majority of the staid mortals who found them- selves spectators placed their hands over their eyes to shut out the bewildering mass of lin- gerie presented to their gaze. The American humorist did the same—but peeped through his open fingers I Or was it that the Puri- tanical folk played the deception? I really for- get which. THE WORLD'S FINEST MUSEUM, Tuesday was dedicated to a visit to the Louvre. I had meantime received some advice from a fellow-countryman. "Don't go to the Leuvre," he said, "it will make your head ache." I went, and my head ached, though not in the way he meant. It is needless to remind my readers, is it not, that the Louvre is the largest and most important museum in the world, built In the early Renaissance style. It is impossible to give here details, or even a curtailed account of the treasures within its walls, except to say that its collection of paint- ings, bronzes, tapestry, and art treasures is unrivalled anywhere. The Crown jewels of France (which include the famous Regent dia- mond, the purest known) are on view in the Apollo Gallery. After dinner we take a rest, for the summer that has played truant for four months seems to have chosen this particular week in which to pay its creditors the full 28s. in the ie of its debts, and in addition we have had a-tiring, if a pleasant and instructive, day. Our choice of entertainment for this evening fastens on th Apollo Music Hall, quite the most superior of its kind in the city, and where we actually hear a couple of English songs-in honour of the "entente," I suppose. We betrayed our nationality and "greenness" by coming away early, thus missing the most interesting portion of the show, for many of the halls, by means of a revolving stage, are transformed before midnight into dancing halls. VERSAILLES-RESIDENCE OF KINGS. It is Wednesday-half the week gone. What pleasures and variety of entertainment have been crowded into these few days. It seems more like a week since we left murky London and came to this land of vineyards and ever- lasting sunshine. To-day we go to Versailles, the favourite home of the Kings and Queens of France ere Revolution's rude hand levelled matters somewhat. To this Royal residence (which with its glorjpus environment entailed an expenditure of forly millions sterling of the people's money), which was sacked by the Paris mob in 178ff, and where the first German Emperor was proclaimed, our party went en masse. We were a gay, blithely, happy crowd that day. It was just a huge picnic. From the time of climbing into our char-a-banc to the moment of our return it was one long delight. A picnic in rural England is charming; but an excursion to a spot hallowed by centuries of romance and tragic realism, where kings have been born and kingdoms overthrown—then the trip is a picnic. We go by way of the "Bois," St. Cloud, etc., and return via Sevres (where is situate the famous Government pottery), Boulogne-sur- Seine, and Passy. The palace was built in the seventeenth century, and, like every similar building in France, contains within its walls unique and priceless art treasures. A number of the rooms are enriched with paintings illus- trating French hiswry from Charlemagne down to modern times. Some of the most splendid Court functions-and we must remember that in the days of Louis XIV. and his immediate successors Versailles was the scintillating jewel in the setting of France's glory-took place in the Galerie des Glaces, including the famous ball at which the late Queen Victoria and Prince Albert were the guests of Napoleon III. The finest view of the palace is from the gardens, whose delights we enjoyed after roam- ing through the gorgeous apartments. THE HOME OF GRAND OPERA. The evening of Wednesday has been antici- pated ever since we reached Paris, for our thoughtful conductor has not omitted to men- tion Wednesday as the most convenient night on which to visit tho Grand Opera House. A generous subsidy is paid by Government to- wards the upkeep of this, the first theatre in the world, and thus renders it practically national property. England lags far behind in this respect. The staircase of the Opera House is said to be the noblest in existence, and it is an experience not soon forgotten to gaze on the well-dres3ed audience promenading up and down its broad flights during each entr'acte. Most of us go. and all come away enchanted. "Lohengrin" was presented in all its scenic glory and tuneful setting. The chief operatic "star" was M. Alvarez, who impersonated Lo- hengrin, the heaven-sent hero, with due eclat. Don't miss paying a. visit to the Opera House it ever you visit Paris. THE GOOD WINE TILL THE LAST. How shall I describe our final picnic—the visit to Fontainebleau? I feel I cannot. Our excursions had been like wine; we had cracked a fresh bottle each day-partaken greedily of the best that La Belle France could produce- and each had tasted better than the last. The Fontainebleau vintage was the best of all; truly they had kept the best wine till the last. My guide to "A Week in Paris" tells me that "the excursion to Fontainebleau, with its his- torical palace and splendid forest, invariably leaves a strong and lasting impression on the minå" of all." How can it, indeed, be other- wise? Fontainebleau is reached with the aid of the locomotive, as it is a considerable dis- tance from Paris The palace was built in the sixteenth century by Francis I., to whom France owes much in the way of art. The chateau cf Fontainebleau is symbolical of the magnificence of France, though its exterior is no criterion of the luxurious ele- gance and beauty within. In the great court- yard we "gather round" (a term stereotyped cn the minds of conducted parties, Poly. tourists particularly) our guide as he takes us back, mentally, to that historic day on which, on the very spot we now occupy, the great little Napoleon took a last farewell of his troops. It is not a difficult feat of the imagi- nation to conjure up the scene which took place at the foot of the famous Horseshoe Staircase. I fancy I can see the distinguished soldier (he was no ruler) rasping out his fare- well—every uttered syllable a dagger-thrust in his own heart-to his beloved troops, each unit of which would gladly have lain down his life for the chance to once again follow in battle the Corsican genius. The world has not seen braver men than the courtyard of the chateau of Fontainebleau held that day, or a general in whose leadership those veterans believed 30 implicitly or followed so undauntedly. After inspecting the palace and grounds, and feeding the monster carp in the lake, we enter the waiting conveyances for a drive throug i the forest. This has a circumference of ç v miles, with 1,000 miles of carriage roads. if teen miles are covered in this delightful my, many interesting features being pointed <<. en route. To mark our appreciation :md t n- joyment of the trip, and while yet wj I :t, e several miles to drive, we cast restraint, t: tie the forest. This has a circumference of fifty miles, with one thousand miles of carriage roads. Fifteen miles are covered in this de- lightful way, many interesting features being pointed out en route. To mark our appreciation and enjoyment of the trip, and while yet we have several miles to drive, we cast restraint to the winds and break into song-earnest if un- musical. By half-past six we are back in Paris, ready for dinner and a "wind-up" at the music-halls. By midnight we are (or should be) seeking Nature's kind testorative. A GRIM SPECTRE. But behind allthe frivolity and shallowness of Paris lurks a grim spectre. Throw aside for one brief moment the mask of affectation and sham—for it is very unreal—which conceals the truer state of things, and you will find a lurking apparition, a grim, haunting dread of the future. Public opinion ir England is essentially conservative. We travel, well con- tent, in the old grooves of our forefathers, and take secret pride in our stolidity. But the Gallic temperament is akin to a smouldering volcano: the crater of national life may at any time become active. The fires of discord may be quiescent, but is the danger any the less? The recent disturbances in the wine-growing districts-' .-u ublej which threatened so vast an area and so large a part of the population that the stability of tne state itself was menaced— I cannot be overlooked in our contemplation of this volcanic temperament. Proof of this dread lies in the very streets and buildings of France's fair capital. Tread the silent wood paved tho- roughfares, and read in their construction a lesson; pass, after closing hours, the splendid shops in the Rue de la Paix, or the Rue de Rivoli, and road in their steel work shutters another moral. No shop doorway or window but what is barricaded in this remorseless manner; no thoroughfare but what is devoid of paving cobbles: serviceable weapons in the hands of a mob. What does it all portend? LEAVE-TAKING. Friday is a day of shopping and farewells. Soon we shall be scattered broadcast, for the call of duty must be obeyed. We therefore i follow the feminine lead and plunge into, and are soon completely lost in, the labyrinths of the Bon Marche and other stores of the White- ley brand. Here the ladies are in their ele- ment, and mere man is nowhere—except as the privileged medium whereby ownership of some dainty oreation or souvenir is transferred. Dinner is a merry affair, and many are the toasts to pretty eyes and another "chance" meeting for auld acquaintance sake. Just as we are leaving tor the railway station (which some 3,000 persons a few days ago took it into their heads to wreck owing to the continual lateness of the trains), we get the first few drops of rain since we stepped into the coun- try. (We had really begun to wonder if it ever rained in France!) A calm sea and moonlight night contributed immensely to our enjoyment of the return voyage, and the boat express, carrying us to the starting-point, completed our Continental holiday. The space I threaten to occupy insists that I must draw this little sketch to a close ere the forbearance of my good friend the Editor is overtaxed. And what, I fancy I hear some of my readers say, is the benefit to be derived from such a round of pleasure? Is it not (as I have previously said) to a man's benefit that his outlook on life should be widened, that he should have an insight into the customs of peoples other than his own? We are too prone to live in a radius immediately around the village pump. As we live so do our views mature. Like the Chinese woman's feet, they are retarded in growth if the area allowed for their development be limited; or, as we extend the rad- ius, broken accordingly. To visit Paris is to be vastly impressed by its multifarious charms; but the great lesson is locked in your own breast. Pride of race is as keen to-day as ever it was, and you will come back—though it be to the old drudgery of the workaday world you left-better for what you have seen and the lessons you have learnt in the pleasure-centre of the world, improved in health by the real holiday, and' prouder than ever that yoi have the right to lay claim to being an Englishman.,

W a t kin s Bros., HENDRE HOUSE, — ST. DAVIDS, — BECL to inform their numerous friends and general public that they will start in the Butcher- ing Business next week, when only the best quality meat will be kept at a very reasonable price. Watkinn Bros, will visit Solva twice weekly Thanking you most sincerely for past favours. ja24— January, 1908! January, 1908 11 -:0:- WIILIAM JAMES' IMPORTANT SALE will commence on the FIRST and con- tinue during the whole month. Owing to cne bad weather we have have had for the last Six Months, we have a very heavy stock left, which must be cleared to make room for SPRING GOODS. The Public will do well to take advan- tage of this oppor- tunity to secure bar- gains, as the whole has been bought be- fore the recent great advance. -:Q:- Follow the crowd by coming to WILLIAM JAMES' SALE the most popular Institution in the Neighbourhood -n. v. William James, SHOP-Y-BOBL. MAIN ST. & VICTORIA HOUSE, MARKET SQUARE, FISHGUARD. I

Rear-Admiral P. G. Kitty has voluntarily retired from, the active list, and Capt. Case- ment, an officer well-known locally, has been promoted rear-admiral to fill the vacancy. It is stated on good authority that it is not unlikely, before Tory long, that the head- quarters of the 4th Company, Army Ordnance Corps, will be removed from Burscough, in Lancashire, to Pembroke Dock, which is con- sidered to be by fAr the most suitable centre as the headquarters of < company rather than (as at present) being the centre fbl a GfetSCtutralfi of the Army Ordnance Qbrps. .«>