Mae planhigion tomatos y llynedd yn dal i fod yn yr ardd. Cafodd neb ddim tomatos ganddyn nhw, gan fod Dewi Sant yn arddwr wael iawn. Methodd ef eu dyfrio nhw.
Y cyfan sydd ar ôl yw potiau llawn o frigau.
Mae’n debyg bod Jeff y gath yn hoff iawn o frigau, yn enwedig brigau planhigion tomatos. Mae hi wrthi’n cnoi’r olion.
– Pam ti neud hynny? gofyn Daf.
– Mae pêl gwallt gyda fi, ateb Jeff. – A dwi’n hoffi nhw ‘ta beth. Maen nhw’n flasus.
Cyn bo hir, mae pawb yn yr ardd yn cnoi olion y planhigion tomatos.
Pawb heblaw Jeff.
Arbrawf oedd e. Weithiau, mae’n ddoniol gweld pa mor hygoelus gall pobl fod.
Saesneg / English
Twigs
Last year’s tomato plants are still in the garden. Nobody got any tomatoes from them, as Saint David is a very bad gardener. He failed to water them.
All that remains are pots full of twigs.
Apparently, Jeff the cat really likes twigs, especially the tomato plant twigs. She is currently chewing the remains.
– Why are you doing that? asked Daf.
– I have a furball, answered Jeff. – And I like them anyway. They are tasty.
Before long, everyone in the garden is munching on the remains of the tomato plants.
Everyone except Jeff.
It was an experiment. Sometimes, it’s funny to see how gullible people can be.
