rs, or to those of men scarcely inferior to them in
their own style, Gainsborough, Morland, and Crome.

* * * * *

The name 'Pump Saint' signifies 'Five Saints.' Why the place is called
so I know not. Perhaps the name originally belonged to some chapel which
stood either where the village now stands or in the neighbourhood. The
inn is a good specimen of an ancient Welsh hostelry. Its gable is to the
road and its front to a little space on one side of the way. At a little
distance up the road is a blacksmith's shop. The country around is
interesting: on the north-west is a fine wooded hill--to the south a
valley through which flows the Cothi, a fair river, the one whose murmur
had come so pleasingly upon my ear in the depth of night.

After breakfast I departed for Llandovery. Presently I came to a lodge
on the left-hand beside an ornamental gate at the bottom of an avenue
leading seemingly to a gentleman's seat. On inquiring of a woman, who
sat at the door of the lodge, to whom the grounds belonged, she said to
Mr. Johnes, and that if I pleased I was welcome to see them. I went in
and advanced along the avenue, which consisted of very noble oaks; on the
right was a vale in which a beautiful brook was running north and south.
Beyond the vale to the east were fine wooded hills. I thought I had
never seen a more pleasing locality, though I saw it to great
disadvantage, the day being dull, and the season the latter fall.
Presently, on the avenue making a slight turn, I saw the house, a plain
but comfortable gentleman's seat with wings. It looked to the south down
the dale. 'With what satisfaction I could live in that house,' said I to
myself, 'if backed by a couple of thousands a year. With what gravity
could I sign a warrant in its library, and with what dreamy comfort
translate an ode of Lewis Glyn Cothi, my tankard of rich ale beside me. I
wonder whether the proprietor is fond of the old bard and keeps good ale.
Were I an Irishman instead of a Norfolk man I would go in and ask him.'

* * * * *

After the days of the great persecution in England against the Gypsies,
there can be little doubt that they lived a right merry and tranquil
life, wandering about and pitching their tents wherever inclination led
them: indeed, I can scarcely conceive any human condition more enviable
than Gypsy life must have been in England during the latter part of the
seventeenth, and the whole of the eighteenth century, which