vicinity, and who owns a great part of the island of Anglesea, on which
Beaumaris lies. The hotel where we stopped was the Bulkely Arms, and Sir
Richard has a kind of feudal influence in the town.

In the morning we walked along a delightful road, bordering on the Menai
Straits, to Bangor Ferry. It was really a very pleasant road, overhung
by a growth of young wood, exceedingly green and fresh. English trees
are green all about their stems, owing to the creeping plants that
overrun them. There were some flowers in the hedges, such as we
cultivate in gardens. At the ferry, there was a whitewashed cottage; a
woman or two, some children, and a fisherman-like personage, walking to
and fro before the door. The scenery of the strait is very beautiful and
picturesque, and directly opposite to us lay Bangor,--the strait being
here almost a mile across. An American ship from Boston lay in the
middle of it. The ferry-boat was just putting off for the Bangor side,
and, by the aid of a sail, soon neared the shore.

At Bangor we went to a handsome hotel, and hired a carriage and two
horses for some Welsh place, the name of which I forget; neither can I
remember a single name of the places through which we posted that day,
nor could I spell them if I heard them pronounced, nor pronounce them if
I saw them spelt. It was a circuit of about forty miles, bringing us to
Conway at last. I remember a great slate-quarry; and also that many of
the cottages, in the first part of our drive, were built of blocks of
slate. The mountains were very bold, thrusting themselves up abruptly in
peaks,--not of the dumpling formation, which is somewhat too prevalent
among the New England mountains. At one point we saw Snowdon, with its
bifold summit. We also visited the smaller waterfall (this is a
translation of an unpronounceable Welsh name), which is the largest in
Wales. It was a very beautiful rapid, and the guide-book considers it