MY PEOPLE
Turning away from the man, the Judge of Sion answered by the mouth of Bertha Daviss (who was the tale-bearer of the district): “Evan Rhiw, what are your works in Capel Sion? Did not the Big Man say, ‘Bern bach, speak to me the sacrifices of Evan Rhiw for my Terrible Temple.’ ‘Little Big Man,’ I answered, ‘the least of my flock gives more than him.’” Then Bern-Davydd, by the mouth of Bertha, sang: “Evan Rhiw, swifter is the hand of the Lord than the water which turns Old Daniel’s mill. Awful are the fingers that will grasp you by your rib trousers and throw you through the spouting flames into the Fiery Pool.”
Evan did not regard this warning and stiffened his legs, because his substance consisted of fifty acres of land, a horse, three cows, and swine and hens: he was neither perfect nor upright, nor did he fear the men who sat in the high
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