is seven miles from Swansea.  Upon a mount, the supposed work of the Romans, is a square tower, the remains of a castle built by Henry, Earl of Warwick.  Three miles to the east are two Roman encampments; many Roman coins have been found at Loughor, from whence there is a ferry to the Carmarthenshire side opposite, which is fordable at low water.  There is a large colliery here.  It is a delightful sail from this village down the Burry River to Whitford Point, or round the coast to Worms-Head.

VYVYAN.

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

    “A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.” 
                                SHAKSPEARE.

The following curious letter was found among the papers of a Mr. Goldwyre, Surgeon, of Salisbury.

To Mr. Edward Goldwyre, at his house on the Close of Salisbury.

Sir,—­Being informed that you are the only surgeon in this city (or country) that anatomises men, and I being under the present unhappy circumstances, and in a very mean condition, would gladly live as long as I can, but by all appearances I am to be executed next March, but having no friends on earth that will speak a word to save my life, nor send me a morsel of bread to keep life and soul together until that fatal day; so if you will vouchsafe to come hither, I will gladly sell you my body (being whole and sound) to be ordered at your discretion, knowing that it will rise again at the general resurrection, as well from your house as from the grave.  Your answer will highly oblige, yours, &c.

JAMES BROOKE.
Fisherton-Auger Gaol, Oct. 3, 1736.

* * * * *

A farmer walking out one day, by chance met Jack Ketch, and jocosely asked him whether he could tell him the difference between their trades.  “That I can,” said Jack, “the only difference is utility—­you till, I tie.”

WALTER.

* * * * *

What is the most suitable motto for a doctor’s carriage?  Live or die.

Why is the carver in a cook-shop like a naval officer?  Because he commands a cutter.

W.G.C.

* * * * *

EPITAPHS.

  Here lies poor Thomas, and his Wife,
  Who led a pretty jarring life;
  But all is ended—­do you see? 
  He holds his tongue, and so does she.

  If drugs and physic could but save
  Us mortals from the dreary grave,
  ’Tis known that I took full enough
  Of the apothecaries’ stuff
  To have prolong’d life’s busy feast
  To a full century at least;
  But spite of all the doctors’ skill,
  Of daily draught and nightly pill,
  Reader, as sure as you’re alive,
  I was sent here at twenty-five.

* * * * *