In "Mornings at Matlock," by Robey Skelton Mackenzie, D.C.L., author of "Titian: an Art Novel" (London, Henry Colburn, publisher, 1850), a book which contains a collection of twenty-six short stories supposed to have been told by people stopping at Matlock, there is an interesting story relating to what was known as the Bush Guinea. Briefly told, Dr. Mackenzie's Bush Guinea story runs thus:--"It was the delight of this Boniface (John Weeks) on every Christmas Day, to cover the great table with a glorious load of roast beef and plum pudding, flanked most plenteously with double home-brewed of such mighty strength and glorious flavour that we might well have called it malt wine rather than malt liquor. At this table on that day every one who pleased was welcome to sit down and feast. Many to whom a good dinner was an object did so; and no nobler sight was there in Bristol, amidst all its wealth and hospitality, than that of honest John Weeks at the head of his table, lustily carving and pressing his guests to 'Eat, drink, and be merry.' Nor did his generosity content itself with this. [Illustration: MURAL TABLET IN BRISTOL CATHEDRAL.] "It was the custom of the house and of the day, when the repast was ended, that each person should go to honest John Weeks in the bar and there receive his cordial wishes for many happy returns of the genial season. They received something more, for according to their several necessities a small gift of money was pressed upon each. To one man a crown; to another, half-a-guinea; to a third, as more needing it a guinea. On the whole some twenty or thirty guineas were thus disbursed. "On one particular year it had been noticed during the months of November and December, that a middle-aged man, whom no frequenter of the Bush Inn appeared to know, and who appeared to know no one, used to visit about noon every day, and calling for a sixpenny glass of brandy and water, sit over it until he had carefully gone through the perusal of the London paper of the previous evening. On Christmas Eve, honest John Weeks, anxious that the decayed gentleman should have one meal at least in the 'Bush,' delicately hinted that on the following day he kept open table. Punctually at one o'clock, being the appointed hour, he appeared at the Bush in his usual seedy attire. John Weeks called his head waiter, a sagacious, well-powdered, steady man, to whom he confidently entrusted the donation which he had set aside for the decayed gentleman. The decayed gentleman quietly put it in his pocket, from which he drew a card. The inscription on the card was simply 'Thomas Coutts, 59, Strand.' Amongst the heirlooms which she most particularly prized, the late Duchess of St. Albans, widow of Thomas Coutts, used to show a coin richly mounted in a gorgeous bracelet, which coin bore the name of 'The Bush Guinea.'"