FIFTY YEARS OF A SHOWMAN'S LIFE 



I have called attention to various changes 

 occurring among the agricultural community in 

 my own time, and this applies not only to manner, 

 and customs, but to costumes also. Gone are 

 the tail coat, the buff waistcoat, the high collars 

 and satin stock and beaver hat of the Squire ; 

 the breeches and gaiters, the long coat with great 

 gaping pockets, and the broad-brimmed hat of the 

 farmer ; the worsted stockings and breeches, the 

 smock-frock, the red-kerchief and the billy-cock 

 hat of the labourer. Yet I remember when all 

 these were de rigueur. They are impressed upon 

 my memory, because, as a child, I lived at Oxford 

 in a house overlooking a great central thorough- 

 fare, Carfax, where four ways met. In this open 

 space on Saturdays, year in and year out, warm 

 or cold, rain or shine, the farmers handed their 

 samples to the dealers who bargained with them, 

 while I watched from a window and wondered 

 what all those little bags contained ; and it was 

 also a gathering-point for every other section of 

 agricultural life. 



I particularly remember the great gaping 

 pockets and a circumstance connected therewith, 

 which interested me very much when my father 

 narrated it. He had been over to a country town, 

 through which the late Queen Victoria was 

 passing, and this attracted a large concourse of 

 persons from the surrounding country districts as 

 well as a sprinkling of gentry with predatory 

 instincts from Birmingham and elsewhere, who 

 deemed it a good opportunity to ply their calling. 

 My father, sight-seeing like the rest, suddenly 

 felt a tug at his waistcoat pocket, saw his watch 



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