Julia, in one of those walks, took occasion to enquire of me, if I had ever seen Swansea? I answered her in the negative, and she added with a sigh, that her father would describe it to me better than she could. The evening dews were beginning to fall, and we joined him in our walk towards home.
We were no sooner arrived there, than I repeated to him Julia’s question, which he answered, by giving me his narrative.
(To be continued.)
EPIGRAM.
First in the grape the wine’s red hue,
Next in the bottle, glows:
But last, and most, and longest too,
O Cotta, in thy nose.