so we just saved money enough to pay our way, and enjoyed ourselves with the rest; but, as ill luck would have it, we fell in with a poor Welsh woman, who had come to Plymouth in the hope of meeting her husband, and being disappointed, and having spent all her money, she didn’t know how to get back to her home again.  Of course we couldn’t leave a fellow-countrywoman in distress, so we gave her what we had:  enough to pay her journey home, and a few shillings over.  We then sold some of our clothes, and stumbling upon a man with this old box in his arms, we bargained with him, and bought it for twelve shillings.  He wanted a pound, but we beat him down.

’Having thus a fortune in our possession we set out with our peep-show, and thought of getting interest for our money.  We have been about three weeks journeying from place to place; and I assure you we have seen a good deal of life.  We unfortunately spent the interest of our fortune as it came in; but, as you will perceive, I have brought the whole capital home with me.  When we entered a town on a fair or market-day, we made a great deal of money, but then the temptations to spend were all the greater.  I used to have all the labour of the imagination, for my friend Jack Jenkins had not the gift of eloquence; so we agreed that I should be showman, and he porter—­a division of work that we thought quite fair.  When we arrived at Swansea I gave him all the money we had in hand, and he resigned the peep-show to me, and so we parted company; he to go to his friends in Glamorganshire, I to come on here.

’I had a rare lark on my way home.  I went to uncle’s, and finding aunt in the garden, slouched my hat over my face, and began my story.  She ordered me off the premises instantly as a vagrant.  I went round to the back door and got a penny a-piece from the servants, who were quite delighted.  Then I met uncle, and telling him that I had a wonderful box of antiques to exhibit, he gave me sixpence, and with great curiosity poked his proboscis against the glass.  It was worth something to see him.  I at once put a picture of Stonehenge, and afterwards one of Herculaneum into the box, that I had bought on purpose for his benefit.  I went through the history of the Druids, and managed a touch of Garn Goch and the Welsh castles with a strong and masterly nasal, that so delighted the worthy vicar, that he actually invited me in to see his museum.  I excused myself by saying that my wife was waiting for me—­mother, that was my only fib, I assure you—­and hastened away, lest in his delight at finding an itinerant archaeologist, he should ask my wife to see his museum as well.  The rest of my adventures you had the honour and glory of sharing, so I must beg to say they are at an end.  And now I am really and truly and soberly come to settle at home for the remainder of my days, and to become a farmer in good earnest if father will take me into partnership.  The two things I like best in the world are, the rolling sea by moonlight and a field of golden corn in broad sunshine, of a fine day in autumn.’