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I have arrived at the age when to clasp the waist of one of the opposite sex for three hours is not considered the height of human happiness. I remember, however, with pleasure, a time in my younger days when I thought it was so, and perhaps some of those who can indulge in a valse without feeling giddy, or a polka without being "blown," think so now.

Servants' Ball,

January 14th, 1889.

"I remember, however, with pleasure, a time in my younger days."

I am happy to be able truly and honestly to say that I have not a word of difference with any servant of my establishment. Each year as it rolls onward finds me stiffer in the joints, shorter in the breath, and less able than formerly to perform the double shuffle, but there are others coming on—the younger members of the family—who will be able to kick up their heels as lightly as once I was able to do. As each year rolls round, too, there are always saddening memories, but on an occasion of this sort I will make no allusions to them, … I hope you will stick to old fashions and old ways. You may be told of new-fangled ways, and be advised to get rid of the old, but I think it will be well if you do not pay too much attention to those advisers. England is like old Tredegar House, and you will find that the customs now prevailing have been in vogue for over 500 years. You will probably be told that the best way to make people happy is to make the poor rich and the rich poor; but, in truth, the richer people are, the better able they are to help the poor.

Servants' Ball,

January 7th, 1910.

Many of you waited last night for the old year to go out and the new year to come in. I did for one. I listened at the window and I heard bells ringing, and noises which I can only describe as hideous. There is an invention in this part of the world, which I believe comes from America (where they have a great many disagreeable things) called a "hooter." When I listened last night it seemed to me that it was deliberately hooting out the old year which to so many of us had painful recollections; and it occurred to me that it was a most appropriate thing to do. It was the wettest spring, the coldest summer, the windiest autumn that I have ever known.

Servants' Ball,

January 1st, 1892.

I can imagine the Bassaleg Parish Council rejoicing in a license for dancing in the hall, and the teetotallers passing a resolution in favour of total abstinence, in which case we should have to obtain our refreshments from the village pump.

Servants' Ball,

January 9th, 1894.

Railways are springing up all round, and, reading the signs of the times as I do, I think there will be increased prosperity. If all the railways now proposed are constructed, we shall be able to paraphrase the poet's lines:—

Railways to right of them,

Railways to left of them,

Railways behind them,

Most of them silly 'uns.

Into the lawyer's jaw,

And the Contractor's paw,

Go the eight millions.

"I shall be able to convert Tredegar House into the 'Railway Hotel.'"

I shall be able to convert Tredegar House into the "Railway Hotel," join the Licensed Victuallers' Association, and do a good trade—if I can get a license. We have progressed a good deal lately, even in dancing. I can remember the minuet being the fashion. It was danced with a great deal of bowing and scraping. Then the waltz, quadrille, and lancers came. We next had a kitchen lancers, and this year we have a barn dance. Next year, perhaps, we shall have a pigstye polka, which will no doubt be very amusing.

Servants' Ball,

January 8th, 1896.

There have been many changes in the manners and customs of the country during late years. I am very fond of old customs, and I hope this old-fashioned Servants' Ball will be kept up by those who come after me. I am sure there is no gentleman in England who is blessed with a better lot of servants than I have. If sometimes by my manner I do not appear pleased, I hope you will make allowance for the business anxieties constantly hanging over my head, and which do not always conduce to a pleasant expression. I will relate an incident. An individual who apparently takes a great deal of interest in me wrote to me not so long ago and asked, "Why did you look so proud and haughty when you met me the other day?" I have no recollection of having been proud and haughty, but I have a very distinct recollection of a very tight boot and a very bad corn.

Servants' Ball,

January 8th, 1896.