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A correspondent writes —" May I add to the account which you have already given of the death at 95 years of age of Mr. David Morgan, of Cwmonney Farm, Llangattock, Brec., the following interesting facts which have appeared in the Brynmawr local news column of the South Wales Argus, under the heading Crowquill's Jottings ? Bryn- mawr he remembered as little more than a common with a few houses scattered here and there. There was no market place and hucksters, and dealers from the country used to line the sides of the main highway almost as far as Nantyglo in the early hours of Saturday morning, having walked during the night from their homes. It was quite common for women to walk as far as twelve miles to the market, and however much railways had done for the country com- mercially, the old gentleman firmly believed that they were responsible in a measure for physical degeneration. In those days the chief local industry was in iron and stone. Coal pits were rare, although levels were somewhat common and employed a number of people. Women then worked with the pick and shovel as well as their husbands, and it was usual for the latter to cut the coal, and for the former to fill the trams with it." Speaking of Mr. Morgan's duties as re- lieving officer, Crowquill says that as in those pre-railroad days "letters had to be conveyed by horse or coach, with risk of loss, the relieving officer was often the means of communication between one Board and an- other. A pauper's settlement could only be established by the relieving officer visiting the parish in which it happened to be, and on one occasion Mr. Morgan spent weeks in North Wales on such a mission, travelling, of course, on horseback." And now I crave space for a personal word or two. It was my happiness in the sixties to spend many a holiday term at Cwmonney, and one of the strongest, most pleasing recollections I have is of the stead- fast adherence of its master to the salutary custom of keeping up the "family altar." On a farmstead, time is often precious and business calls are frequently urgent; yet at Cwmonney nobody left the house after breakfast without having been given the opportunity of partaking of the milk of the Word," or without being commended to the tender keeping of an all-provident Father. Some of us younger ones, wise in our generation-and certain of the older farm hands and harvesters, too-brooked but with impatience this encroachment upon our flitting time. But the head of the house knew best, and some of those, who erstwhile were unappreciative, have grown wiser by to- day. The hospitality of Cwmonney was typically Welsh, and never a caller went away unrefreshed One of Mr. Morgan's proudest remem- brances was of the preaching of John Elias, whom he placed upon a higher pedestal than his many eloquent contemporaries—and the learned Oarnhuanawc was his neighbour and well known to him.

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