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III
THE WAY OF THE EARTH
Simon and Beca are waiting for Death. The ten acres of land over Penrhostheir peat-thatched cottage under the edge of the moorgrows wilder and weedier. For Simon and Beca can do nothing now. Often the mood comes on the broken, helpless old man to speak to his daughter of the only thing that troubles him.
“When the time comes, Sara Jane fach,” he says, “don’t you hire the old hearse. Go you down to Dai the son of Mali, and Isaac the Cobbler, and Dennis the larger servant of Dan, and Twm Tybach, and mouth you like this to them: ‘Jasto, now, my little father Simon has gone to wear the White Shirt in the Palace.
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