two of their productions were alike. I saw smiling Davids, frowning
Davids, mild Davids, and ferocious Davids,--Davids with oblique eyes,
red noses, and cavernous mouths,--and Davids as blind as bats, or with
great goggle-orbs, aquiline nasal organs, blue at the tips, and lips
made for a lisp. One David had a brown Welsh wig on his head, and was
anachronistically attired in a snuff-colored coat, black small-clothes,
gray, coarse, worsted stockings, high-low boots, with buckles, and he
wore on his head a three-cornered hat, and used spectacles as big as
tea-saucers. On my remarking to a bystander, that I was not aware
knee-breeches were worn in the time of the ancient kings, I was
condescendingly informed that _this_ David was not the celebrated
Monarch-Minstrel, but a Mr. Pryce David, the founder of the
Cymreiggddyon Society. But the most amusing David was one depicted on a
banner carried in front of a company of barbers belonging to the order
of Odd Fellows. In that magnificent work of art David was represented
bewailing the death of Absalom, that unhappy young man being seen
hanging by his hair from a tree. Out of the mouth of David issued a
scroll, on which was inscribed the following touching verse:--

"Oh, Absalom! Oh, Absalom!
Oh, Absalom, my son!
If thou hadst worn a good Welsh wig,
Thou hadst not been undone!"

It was with no little trouble that I elbowed my way into the great
temporary hall where the exercises were to be held: but by dint of much
pressing forward, I at length reached the reporters' bench. Directly in
front was a raised platform, and on two sides of the tent galleries
had been erected for the bards and orators. On the platform table
were arranged prizes to be given for the best playing, singing, and