Mith Son of Nith

is a short 'Welsh' story, part of Mugluring. My father had a great affection for Welsh people and their use of language (both English & Welsh). The story draws on the ancient Welsh Mabinogion, and is reproduced here in toto:

Mith, son of Nith, was not happy except that he had his hands on a maiden's dowry. He dwelt in the castle Breiniog in the cantref of Gwladygog. One day he sent for Cwm Cwm Mlad, his kinsman. Now Cwm Cwm Mlad, his kinsman, was the best teller of stories that ever was known in the cantref of Gwladygog. He dwelt at Tycwmcwmmladuchaf, which men call Tycwmcwmmladuchaf. Cwm Cwm Mlad, my kinsman, said Mith, tell us a story.

So Cwm Cwm Mlad, his kinsman, told how Young Nuisance, son of Old Nuisance, found a large saucepan boiling on the floor. Cwm Cwm Mlad, my kinsman, said Mith, that is a good story. You can have half my kingdom, Mith, said Cwm Cwm Mlad, his kinsman, you can keep half your kingdom. Give me Buddugddu, the maiden whose dowry you have your hands on. Cwm Cwm Mlad, my kinsman, said Mith, no. Go you to the cantref of Tirydai, where dwells Daibudr, husband of Gwraigydaibudr, whom men call Buwchfach on account of her domestic qualities. She shall be your reward. Will no one sustain me in this thing, said Cwm Cwm Mlad, his kinsman; but no one would, and he was borne in the shape of a perfect gentleman to the cantref of Tirydai. Daibudr, he said, give me your wife Gwraigydaibudr, whom men call Buwchfach on account of her domestic qualities. What have you got for a swap, said Daibudr. An old station wagon, said Cwm Cwm Mlad. What does it do to the gallon, said Daibudr. Seventy-eight, said Cwm Cwm Mlad, who was the best teller of stories that ever was known in the cantref of Gwladygog. Throw in four spare tyres, said Daibudr, and it's a deal. So Cwm Cwm Mlad threw in four spare tyres, and the extra weight broke a spring of the station wagon. There now, said Daibudr, the extra weight has broken a spring, isn't it? No it isn't, said Cwm Cwm Mlad. That was the dashboard clock striking one. But it's only twelve, said Daibudr. Your rotten clock's neither use nor ornament. Don't be so dull, mun, said Cwm Cwm Mlad. We're in summer time in Gwladygog. So Daibudr took the station wagon, and Cwm Cwm Mlad threw Buwchfach onto his back and went. And the first night they slept at Cwmbuwch, which thereafter was called Cwmbuwch. And the second night they slept at Glynbuwch, which from that day was known as Glynbuwch. And the third night they were unable to reach Dyffrynbuwch and didn't get any sleep at all. On the fourth day they saw Daibudr coming after them in the station wagon and went on all night without stopping. On the fifth day they were so sleepy they fell sideways into a lake, which was called Llynbuwch from then on. Daibudr, who was only giving the station wagon a reliability trial, took them out and applied kiss of life. Cwm Cwm Mlad revived and said good gracious mun, better it was if you had left us there; this old Buwch of yours is a bad bargain if ever there was one. So Daibudr, who was a kindhearted man, threw them back into the lake.

And that is the story of Mith, son of Nith.

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