sham with which we decorate our modern houses, but real open beams that
supported the floor--and one end of the room was occupied by a great
open fireplace with old-time spits and swinging cranes. Overhead was
hung a supply of hams and bacon and on iron hooks above the door were
suspended several dressed fowls, on the theory that these improve with
age. We were given a small but clean and neat apartment, from which I
suspicion the younger members of the landlord's family had been
unceremoniously ousted to make room for us. The distressing feature was
the abominable beds, but as these prevailed in most of the country
hotels at which we stopped we shall not lay this up too strongly against
the Saracen's Head. I noticed that on one of the window-panes someone
had scribbled with a diamond, "Sept. 4, 1726," which would seem to
indicate that the original window was there at that time. The house
itself must have been considerably older. If rates had been the sole
inducement, we should undoubtedly have become permanent boarders at the
Saracen's Head, for I think that the bill for our party was seven
shillings for supper, room and breakfast.

We left Cerrig-y-Druidion next morning in a gray, driving rain, with
drifting fogs that almost hid the road at times. A few miles brought us
to the Conway River, the road closely following the stream through the
picturesque scenery on its banks. It was swollen by heavy rains and the
usually insignificant river was a wild torrent, dashing in rapids and
waterfalls over its rocky bed. The clouds soon broke away and for the
remainder of the day the weather was as fine as could possibly be wished
for.

Bettws-y-Coed is the most famous of mountain towns in Wales, and its
situation is indeed romantic. It is generally reputed to be the chief
Welsh honeymoon resort and a paradise for fishermen, but it has little