SCENE--_A street of Gingerbread, Sweetstuff, and Toy-stalls,
"Cocoa-nut Shies," "Box-pitching Saloons," &c., forming
the approach to the more festive portion of the Fair, from
which proceeds a cheerful cacophony of orchestrions,
barrel-organs, steam-whistles, gongs, big drums, rattles,
and speaking-trumpets._
_Proprietors of Cocoa-nut Shies._ Now, then, play up all o'
you--ar-har! There goes another on 'em! _That's_ the way to 'it
'em--win all yer like, &c.
_A Rival Proprietor_ (_pointing to his target, through the centre of
which his partner's head is protruded_). Look at _that_! Ain't that
better nor any coker-nut? Every time you 'it my mate's 'ed, you git
a good cigar! (_As the by-standers hang back, from motives of
humanity._) 'Ere, _'ave_ a go at 'im, some o' you--give 'im a little
encouragement!
_The Head_ (_plaintively_). Don't neglect a man as is doing his best
to please yer, gen'l'men! (_A soft-hearted Bystander takes a shot at
him, out of sheer compassion, and misses._) Try agen, Sir. I ain't
'ere to be _idle_!
_A Sharp Little Girl_ (_presiding over a sloping Chinese
Billiard-board_). Now, my dears--(_To a group of boys, of about her
own age_)--'ave what yer like. A penny a pull, and a prize every time!
Wherever the marble rolls, you 'ave any one article on the board!
[Illustration: "Now then, play up, all o' yea--ar-har!"]
[_One of the boys pays a penny, and pulls a handle, propelling
a marble, which, after striking a bell at the top of the
slope, wobbles down into a compartment._
_The Boy_ (_indicating a gorgeous china ornament on the board_). I'll
'ave one o' them--to take 'ome to mother.
_The S.L.G._ (_with pitying superiority_). No, my boy, you can go to a
shop and _buy_ one o' them for sixpence if you like--but 'ere you must
'ave what you _git_!
[_She awards him a very dingy lead-pencil, with which he
departs, abashed, and evidently revolving her dark saying in
his perplexed mind._
_Proprietor of a Box-pitching Saloon._ One penny a ball! For hevery
ball that goes in the boxes, you choose any prize you like! (_With
sorrow and sympathy, to a female Competitor._) Too 'ard, Lady, too
_'ard_! (_To a male Comp., whose ball has struck the edge of the box,
and bounced off._) Very _near_, Sir!
[_Several Competitors expend penny after penny unsuccessfully,
and walk away, with a grin of entire satisfaction._
_Joe_ (_landing a ball in one of the boxes, after four failures_). I
told 'ee I'd get _waun_ in! (_To his Young Woman._) What are ye goin'
to 'ave, MELIA?
_Melia_ (_hovering undecidedly over a glittering array of shell-boxes,
cheap photograph-albums and crockery_). I'll take one o'--no, I won't
neither.... I really don't know _what_ to 'ave!
_Joe_ (_with masculine impatience_). Well, go on--take _summat_, can't
ye! (_MELIA selects a cup and saucer, as the simplest solution of the
problem._) I doan't carl that mooch of a show for fippence, I
doan't. Theer, gi' us 'old on it. [_He stows the china away in his
side-pockets._
_Melia._ You took an' 'urried me so--else I don't know as I fancied
a cup and sarcer so partickler. I wonder if the man 'ud change it,
supposin' we was to go back and ast 'im!
_Joe_ (_slapping his thigh_). Well, you _are_ a gell and no mistake!
Come along back and git whatever 'tis you've a mind to. (_Returning._)
'Ere, Master, will ye gi' this young woman summat else for this 'ere?
(_He extracts the cup in fragments._) 'Ullo, look a' _that_ now! (_To
MELIA._) Theer, it's all right--doan't take on 'bout it.--I'll 'ave
another go to make it oop. (_He pitches ball after ball without
success._) I wawn't be bett. I lay I'll git 'un in afoor I've done!
(_He is at last successful._) Theer--now, ye can please yourself,
and doan't choose nawthen' foolish _this_ time! (_He strolls on with
lordly indifference, and is presently rejoined by MELIA._) Well, what
did ye take arter all?
_Melia._ I got so flustered like, for fear o' losin' you, I just up
and took the first that came 'andy.
_Joe._ Why, if ye ain't bin and took _another_ cup an' sarcer!
hor--hor! that's a good 'un, that is! Take keer on it, it's cost money
enough any 'ow--'t wouldn't be no bargain if it wur a 'ole tea-set!
What's goin' on 'ere?
[_A venerable old Sportsman, whom the reader may possibly
recollect having met before, has collected a small crowd in
a convenient corner; his stock-in-trade consists of an
innocent-looking basket, with a linen-cover, upon which are a
sharpened skewer and a narrow strip of cloth._
_The Sportsman._ I'll undertake to show you more fun in five minutes,
than you'll get over there in two: (_with a vague suspicion that this
is rather a lame conclusion_)--in ten, I _should_ say! This 'ere's a
simple enough little game, when you know the trick of it, and I'm
on'y a _learnin'_ it myself. I ain't doin' this for money. I got money
enough to sink a ship--it's on'y for my own amusement. Now you watch
me a doin' up this garter--keep yer eye on it. (_He coils up the
strip._) It goes _up_ 'ere, ye see, and down _there_, and _in_ 'ere
agin, and then round. Now, I'm ready to bet anything from a sovereign
to a shilling, nobody 'ere can prick the middle. I'll tell ye if ye
win. I'm ole BILLY FAIRPLAY, and I don't cheat! (_A Spotty-faced Man,
after intently following the process, says he believes he could find
the middle._) Well, don't tell--that's all. I'm 'ere all alone, agin
the lot o' ye, and I want to win if I can--one dog to a bone! (_The_
S.-F.M. _produces a florin from a mouldy purse, and stakes it, and
makes a dab at the coil with the skewer._) No, ye're wrong--that's
outside! (_O.B.F. pulls the strip out._) By Gum, ye've done it, after
all! 'Ere's four bob for you, and I'm every bit as pleased as if I'd
won myself! 'Oo'll try next?
_A Smart Young Man_ (_with a brilliant pin in a dirty necktie, to
JOE_). I don't see how it's done--do you?
_Joe._ Ye will if you don't take yer eyes off it--theer, I could tell
ye the middle now, I could.
_The Sp.-F.M._ Law, yes, it's simple enough. I done it first time.
_Old B.F._ Give an old man a chance to get a bit. If any party 'ere
'as found me out, let him 'old 'is tongue--it's all _I_ ask. (_To
JOE._) You've seen this afore, _I_ know!
_Joe._ Noa, I ain't--but I could tell ye th' middle.
_Old B.F._ Will ye bet on it? Come--not too 'igh, but just to show
you've confidence in your opinion!
_Joe_ (_cautiously_). I woant bet wi' ye, but I'll hev a try, just for
nawthen, if ye like!
_Old B.F._ Well, I want to see if you really _do_ know it--so, jest
for once, I ain't no objection. (_JOE pricks the garter._) Yes, you've
found the middle, sure enough! It's a good job there was no money
on--for _me_, leastwise!
_The Sp.-F.M._ I've a good mind to 'ave another try.
_The Sm. Y.M._ I wouldn't. You'll lose. I could see you on'y guessed
the first time. (_The Sp. F.M., however, extracts a shilling, stakes
it--and loses._) There, _I_ could ha' told you you was wrong--(_To
JOE_)--couldn't you?
_Joe._ Yes, he art to ha' pricked moor to waun side of 'un. (_The
Sp.-F.M. stakes another florin._) Now he's done it, if ye like!
_O.B.F._ There, ye see, I'm as often wrong as not myself. (_To the
Sp.-F.M._) There's your four bob, Sir. Now, jest once more!
_Joe_ (_to MELIA_). I'll git the price o' that theer cup an' sarcer
out of 'un, any'ow. (_To O.B.F._) I'll ha' a tanner wi' ye!
_O.B.F._ 'Alf a soverin, if you like--it's all the same to me!
_Joe_ (_after pricking_). I _thart_ I 'ad 'un that time, too, I did!
_The Sm. Y.M._ You shouldn't ha' changed your mind--you were right
enough afore!
_Joe_. Yes, I should ha' stuck to it. (_To O.B.F._) I'll bet ye two
bob on the next go--come!
_O.B.F._ Well, I don't like to say no, though I can see, plain enough,
you know too much. (_JOE pricks; O.B.F. pulls away the strip,
and leaves the skewer outside._) I could ha' sworn you done me that
time--but there ye _are_, ye see, there's never no tellin' at this
game--and that's the charm on it!
[_JOE walks on with MELIA in a more subdued frame of mind._
_The Sm. Y.M._ (_in the ear of the Spotty-faced One_). I say, I got
a job o' my own to attend to--jest pass the word to the Old Man, when
he's done with this pitch, to turn up beyind the swing-boats there,
and come along yourself, if yer can. It's the old lay I'm on--the
prize-packets fake.
_The Sp.-F.M._ Right--we'll give yer a look in presently--it'll be a
little change for the Ole Man--trades's somethin' cruel _'ere_!
* * * * *