A frenzied effort was made to cover up the well and stop the unwelcome flow, but it was useless, and the people of old Bala had to escape as best they could to higher ground. When morning broke they looked out to where their homes had been and saw, instead of their fields and houses, a great lake three miles long and a mile wide.

To-day the lake is five miles long; and they say that on clear days, when its surface is absolutely calm, you may see at the bottom, off Llangower, the ruins and chimneys of the old town that was overwhelmed so long ago.

And, as the old couplet tells, they say too that the spirit of Gower's Well is not yet appeased. On stormy days water appears to ooze up through the ground at new Bala, which is built at the lower end of the lake, and some day they believe that too will be swamped and the waters will cover the valley as far down as Llanfor.

Llyn Tegid is the old name for Bala Lake; it means the lake of beauty, and Bala well deserves that t.i.tle. Its sh.o.r.es are verdant and beautifully wooded, commanding in many places magnificent distant views of the mountains which encircle it only a few miles away. Its waters teem with fish; trout up to fourteen pounds and pike twice as big have been caught there--but the flyfisher must not expect always such giants.

There is salmon-fishing to be had in the Treweryn river in September.

In the neighbourhood are places of wonderful beauty. Dolgelly, nestling beneath great Cader Idris, is easily accessible, as also is that charming seaside town of Barmouth. Bwlch-y-Groes, one of the finest mountain pa.s.ses in the Princ.i.p.ality, is only ten miles away, and an easy excursion takes one across another very beautiful pa.s.s to Lake Vyrnwy, which gives to Liverpool its splendid water supply, and provides anglers with magnificent baskets of Loch Leven trout.

All around is a paradise for artists and fishermen, and a country rich in mountain streams, wild woods, and wide, far views unbeaten in any part of Wales.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Bala Lake_]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE FURRY DAY SONG

The celebration of "Furry Day," on May 8th each year, at Helston, in South Cornwall, is one of the most interesting survivals of an old custom in the whole country. On "Furry Day" the whole town makes holiday. The people go first into the surrounding country to gather flowers and branches, and return about noon, when the Furry dance begins and continues until dusk; the merrymakers, hand in hand, dancing through the streets and in and out of the houses, the doors of which are kept open for the purpose.

The origin of the word "Furry," and of the song and dance, is lost in the ages. Some authorities hold that these celebrations are a survival of the old Roman Floralia, others that it began in celebration of a great victory gained by the Cornish over the Saxons. The words and music, as they have come down to us, show many signs of Elizabethan origin. The music reproduced here is from a very old setting and contains many crude harmonies unfamiliar at the present day.

There is one line of the song, "G.o.d bless Aunt Mary Moses," that most people will find incomprehensible. It refers to the Virgin Mary, "Aunt"

being among the Cornish a term of great respect; "Moses" being a corruption of the old Cornish word "Mowes," a maid. "Mary Moses" means literally "Mary the Maid."

THE FURRY-DAY SONG

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FURRY-DAY SONG (Sheet Music page 1)]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FURRY-DAY SONG (Sheet Music page 2)]

Robin Hood and little John, They both are gone to fair, O!

And we will go to the merry green wood To see what they do there, O!

And for to chase, O!

To chase the buck and doe.

With Halantow, Rumble Ow!

For we were up as soon as any day, O!

And for to fetch the Summer home, The Summer and the May, O!

For Summer is a-come, O!

And Winter is a-gone, O!

Where are those Spaniards, That make so great a boast, O?

They shall eat the grey goose feather, And we will eat the roast, O, In every land, O, The land where'er we go.

With _Halantow, &c._

As for Saint George, O, Saint George he was a Knight, O!

Of all the Knights in Christendom, Saint Georgy is the right, O!

In every land, O, The land where'er we go.

With _Halantow, &c_.

G.o.d bless Aunt Mary Moses, And all her powers and might, O, And send us peace in merry England, Both day and night, O, And send us peace in merry England, Both now and evermore, O!

With _Halantow, &c_.

THE FURRY-DANCE TUNE

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FURRY-DANCE TUNE (Sheet Music)]

The simple air only of "The Furry Dance" is given here. It was probably originally played by a musician on the pipe, accompanying himself on the tabor.

Remote Cornwall is still full of queer old customs and survivals of other days. Helston, the "Metropolis" of that picturesque wild district near the Lizard, forms a perfect setting for this interesting relic of the past, and an ideal centre for those who wish to enjoy the beauties and mystery of one of the most remote corners of our island.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The Furry Dance To-day_]