She seemed not to believe in her abode as a practicable tenement,
and could not be got to say that she actually lived in it; as to
why it was built so small she was equally vague. But there it
was, to like or to leave, and there, not far off, was the "briny
beach" where the Walrus and the Carpenter walked together,--
"And wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand."
For it was in Conway, as history or tradition is, that _Through
the Looking-Glass_ was written.
There are very few places in those storied British Isles which
are not hallowed by some association with literature; but I
suppose that Llandudno is as exempt as any can be, and I will not
try to invoke any dear and honored shade from its doubtful
obscurity. We once varied the even tenor of our days there by
driving to Penmaenmawr, and wreaking our love of literary
associations so far as we might by connecting the place with the
memory of Gladstone, who was literary as well as political. We
thought with him that Penmaenmawr was "the most charming
watering-place in Wales," and as you drive into the place, the
eye of faith will detect the house, on the right, in which he
spent many happy summers.
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