My father said Gwillym's tales were idiosyncratic to say the least and would follow no norm. His recitation was comic, sometimes serious. Stories changed according to what mood he was in. They encompassed everyday tales to the fantastical. The stories belong to the rich storytelling that Wales is famed for and shows that the traditional was still current into the 1930s. The stories, often fragmentary, are what I wrote down after my father told me. Two examples follow of what Gwillym claimed were called "Ragamuffin Tales" by his father.

Buried on the Isle of Apples is the renowned Arthur, the last great King of Albion, who felI at the Battle of Mount Badon. Immortality gained this way brings further strength when Arthur returns to defend the land. The first sleep that Arthur achieved brought insight into his true character. Myrddin watches over him, never leaving his side.

Not far from where you are living, David, upwards in the valley, a woman and her son lived in a long farmhouse. Winter was terrible that year. The mother, one day, told her son to go into the forest to gather dry wood. The boy obeyed his mother and, as he was turning from the right-hand path, he met a girl, younger than he, who helped him gather more wood, then they threw snowballs at each other, and she helped him to carry the wood home. When the boy ran into the house to tell his mother what happened, the girl disappeared when he ran back to fetch her. However, the girl had given him a present, a cutting from an apple tree in Avalon with instructions for it to be planted outside when the snows had gone. The girl said she would see the little boy once the apple blossom bloomed. The mother placed the cutting in water. She called her son one morning and he did not answer. When she went to his bed, she saw that he was dead and wept. He looked peaceful. The very next morning the apple cutting started to bloom.