ions, though I can't say I derive much pleasure from
his conversation, for he is a person of little or no literature."

"The son of a hog-merchant," thought I to myself. "Depend upon it, that
immense fellow whom I saw in my dream purchase the big hog at Llangollen
fair, and who wanted me to give him a poond for his bargain, was this
gent's father. Oh, there is much more in dreams than is generally dreamt
of by philosophy!"

Doctor Jones presently began to talk of Welsh literature, and we were
busily engaged in discussing the subject when in walked the fast young
man, causing the floor to quake beneath his ponderous tread. He looked
rather surprised at seeing the doctor and me conversing, but Doctor Jones
turning to him, said, "Oh, I remember this gentleman perfectly."

"Oh!" said the fast young man; "very good!" then flinging himself down in
a chair with a force that nearly broke it, and fixing his eyes upon me,
said, "I think I remember the gentleman too. If I am not much mistaken,
sir, you are one of our principal engineers at Wolverhampton. Oh yes! I
remember you now perfectly. The last time I saw you was at a public
dinner given to you at Wolverhampton, and there you made a speech, and a
capital speech it was."

Just as I was about to reply Doctor Jones commenced speaking Welsh,
resuming the discourse on Welsh literature. Before, however, he had
uttered a dozen words he was interrupted by the Wolverhampton gent, who
exclaimed in a blubbering tone: "O Lord, you are surely not going to
speak Welsh. If I had thought I was to be bothered with Welsh I wouldn't
have asked you to come."

"If I spoke Welsh, sir," said the doctor, "it was out of compliment to
this gentleman, who is a proficient in the ancient language of my
country. As, however, you dislike Welsh, I shall carry on the
conversation with him in English, though peradventure you may not be more
edified by it in that language than if it were held in Welsh."

He then proceeded to make some very excellent remarks on the history of
the Gwedir family, written by Sir John Wynn, to which the Wolverhampton
gent listened with open mouth and staring eyes. My dinner now made its
appearance, brought in by the little freckled maid--the cloth had been
laid during my absence from the room. I had just begun to handle my
knife and fork, Doctor Jones still continuing his observations on the
history of the Gwedir family, when I heard a carriage drive up to the
in