Hunting in the Golden Days. 45 



moment is lost in the turn of the road. Time is of little 

 importance to our friends, so they pull their horse into 

 a walk to avoid bringing him in hot into the stable. 

 Several farmers' carts are wending their way to the 

 market town freighted with sheep and pigs, and with 

 coops of fowls and ducks suspended around and under- 

 neath their vehicles. 



Old ladies laden with eggs, butter and vegetables, 

 are all making in the same direction, for market-day only 

 comes round once a week, and when it does it is a day of 

 no mean importance. They shortly arrive at the outskirts 

 of the old town where the cattle market is already 

 assuming an aspect of unwonted activity. Herds of wild- 

 looking bullocks are being driven hither and thither in 

 an aimless manner, much to the jeopardy of foot 

 passengers who seem unable, despite their activity, to 

 avoid the formidable-looking horns of these droves of 

 cattle. 



At length they arrive at their destination, and 

 drive in under the arch of the old Green Dragon, 

 where a number of carriages of every description are 

 ranged round the yard. Several groups of farmers are 

 conversing together over their sample bags of wheat, 

 whilst their wives and families are busily engaged in 

 the town transacting their housekeeping duties for the 

 week. All is bustle and animation. 



Strolling out into the town our friends are soon in the 

 vortex of the horse market, where several useful looking 

 animals are being paraded with their gaily-plaited manes 

 to attract the observation of purchasers. Mr. Good- 

 bery, who wishes to be conversant with the ruling price 

 of the corn market, adjourns with Sir John to 

 the Town Hall, under which the market is being 

 conducted. Dozens of stalls are surrounded by eager 



