xni] GLAMORGANSHIRE: NEATH 183 



writing, all their intellectual pleasures depend upon converse 

 with their fellows, and thus their thoughts and wishes are 

 intensely and continuously directed to the acquisition of the 

 means of doing so. 



A mile further up the valley was a small gentleman's house 

 with about a hundred and fifty acres of land attached, owned 

 and occupied by a Mr. Worthington, his wife and wife's sister. 

 They had, I believe, come there not long before from Devon- 

 shire, and being refined and educated people, we were glad 

 to make their acquaintance, and soon became very friendly. 

 Mr. Worthington was a tall and rather handsome man 

 between fifty and sixty ; while his wife was perhaps fifteen 

 or twenty years younger, rather under middle size and very 

 quiet and agreeable ; while her sister was younger, smaller, 

 and more lively. They lent us books and magazines, and we 

 often went there to spend the evening. I do not think our 

 friend knew much about farming, but he had a kind of working 

 bailiff and two or three labourers to cultivate the land, which, 

 however, was mostly pasture. The place is called Gelli-duch- 

 lithe, the meaning of which is obscure. " The grove and the 

 wet moor " is not inappropriate, and seems more likely than 

 any connection with "llaeth" (milk), which implies good 

 land or rich pastures, which were decidedly absent. 



Mr. Worthington was an eccentric but interesting man. He 

 played the violin beautifully, and when in the humour would 

 walk about the long sitting-room playing and talking at in- 

 tervals. He discussed all kinds of subjects, mostly personal, 

 and he was, I think, the most openly egotistical man I ever met, 

 and I have met many. After playing a piece that was one of 

 his favourites, he would say to my brother, " Was not that 

 fine, Mr. Wallace ? There are not many amateurs could play 

 in that style, are there ? — or professionals either," he would 

 sometimes add. And after telling some anecdote in which 

 he was the principal personage, he would often finish up with, 

 " Don't I deserve praise for that, Mr. Wallace ? " On one 

 occasion, I remember, after telling us of how he befriended a 

 poor girl and resisted temptation, he concluded with, " Was 



