ual way of explaining any sudden fatality of this kind.
He was aged 84.
His tomb at Whitchurch declares the event to have occurred in 1847.
Soon after, I was transferred to the care of an ancient couple who lived at the other end of the Castle, named Richard and Jenny Price, keepers of the Bowling Green, into which one of the courts of the old Castle had been converted.
The rate for my maintenance was fixed at half-a-crown a week, which my two uncles agreed to pay to the Prices.
Old Richard Price, besides being a gamekeeper, was Sexton of Whitchurch, and Verger of St. David's. His wife Jenny, a stout and buxom old lady, is remembered by me mostly for her associations with peas-pudding, for which I had a special aversion, and for her resolute insistence that, whether I liked it or not, I should eat it.
Other memories of this period are also unforgettable for the pains connected with them,--such as the soap-lather in my Saturday evening tub, and the nightly visits of Sarah Pri