BOYHOOD. 9 



Old Sam Griffiths succeeded in catching him. 

 No sooner had he mounted him, bare-backed, and 

 with only a halter on his head, than the pony bolted 

 after the colts. Sam was a good rider, and stuck on 

 manfully till the pony made a dash under the low, 

 spreading branches of a large oak tree. Sam was 

 struck against a big branch and fell on his head to the 

 ground. 



When I galloped up to him I found him on his 

 back, his eyes half closed ; he gave a convulsive gasp 

 and was gone : his neck was broken. 



Poor old Sam ! I have a vivid recollection of him 

 to this day. He was a little man with a large head, 

 and a very pleasant face, his hair reddish grey. 

 Whenever I have in after years seen the late Lord 

 John Russell, I have always been reminded of him. 



The men soon came up and took proper care of him. 

 I galloped home full of the sad news. I was telling 

 my mother and sisters, I suppose in a very excited 

 way, forgetting that one of the servants was Sam's 

 daughter and she was standing near. She uttered 

 a terrible scream and fell down in a swoon. 



That was a time of lamentation and mourning in our 

 village, for old Sam Griffiths was beloved by all : his 

 daughter as I remember her was a pretty and modest 

 good girl. I was then but about twelve, and it 

 is curious how both of them, and, indeed, all the 

 people in the neighbourhood are still photographed in 

 my memory after nearly sixty years' buffeting with the 

 world. 



