ood house, that built by Mr. Parry, of the firm of Parry and
Brown, ship brokers, where Mrs. Parry, a fine, handsome lady, dispensed
graceful hospitality. Her brother, Mr. David Brown, afterwards removed
to London to a fine office in Leadenhall Street, and lived and died at a
charming retreat he built for himself in Harrow. There I one day met
Lord Shaftesbury, who came to a drawing-room meeting held in connection
with the London City Mission, and where we were all handsomely regaled.

Perhaps at that time the most active man in Cardiff was Mr. John
Batchelor--whose statue, erected by his admirers, still adorns the
place--a sad thorn in the side of the old-fashioned people who then ruled
the town, especially the Marquis of Bute's trustees or the men who
represented them in Cardiff. Mr. John Batchelor was a keen critic, a
good speaker, a sturdy Nonconformist, and a man of high character and
great influence. His death was a great loss to the town. Just outside
the town lived Mr. Booker, the proprietor of tin-works at Velindra, a
fine well-made man, and a good speaker, who got into Parliament to
maintain Protection, in which attempt he failed. His admirers had a full
portrait of him painted by Mr. John Deffet Francis, who afterwards lived
in Swansea. Mr. Francis was a very versatile genius, and got up an
amateur performance in which he acted the part of a vagabond to
perfection, somewhat to the confusion of some of the ladies, who had
never witnessed such a realistic performance before. In connection with
myself quite a storm in a teacup took place. In St. Mary Street there
was an Athenaeum, as the local reading-room was called. It was thought
by some of my friends that I ought to be on the committee, but as I was
not qualified a motion was made to set the standing rules on one side in
order that I might be elected. The little town was quite excited on the
occasion, and the great Mr. Booker was appealed to to use his influence
against me, which he did, but I was elected nevertheless. In my capacity
of committee-man I did something to get up some lectures, which were a
great success. One of the lecturers was Mr. George Dawson, with whom I
spent a pleasant day. Another was my old and comic friend, Mr. George
Grossmith, the celebrated father of a yet more celebrated son. Another
was Mrs. Balfour, the mother of the Balfour who, in later times, was to
do a lot of misdeeds and to attain a very disagreeable notoriety