34; FIELD AND FERN. 



a banker's letter, a messenger slips away from the- 

 muir, and telegraphs to head quarters for in- 

 formation. A Union Jack generally waves over the 

 Union Bank ; the Royal glories in the white and 

 blue Prince's Feather ; the National goes in for blue 

 and yellow; but the Clydesdale makes no sign. 

 Horse dealers also come out strongly with their 

 Clydesdales, whose tails they plait with an art which 

 Dunstable might envy. Kopes, straw, and tape are 

 all in vogue for such adornments, and so are ribbons 

 of every hue. A mule is pressed upon us in vain for 

 ^3 10s., with an assurance that he is "varra corney,'^ 

 which he illustrates in one sense by backing into 

 corners among tents and potato-kettles, and stead- 

 fastly refusing to leave them. There are ponies, too, 

 of divers kinds, fat and unshoed, or standing in 

 melancholy- eyed Shetland droves, from one of which a 

 purchaser took five at haphazard for £17, luck-penny 

 unknown. 



A donkey from the Bridge of Allan was always on 

 parade, and announced for sale ^' because the season 

 is over, ye ken.'"' There was no lack of conjurors. One 

 of them said, ^'^ I'll sivellij the sword, if I fa' clown deed 

 on the spot ;'^ but as we were quite proof against his 

 appeal to us to enter the ring and stand by him for 

 the honour of pulling it up when it was swallowed, 

 he winked at us pleasantly, worked "the West Riding 

 telegraph," as a relief to his feelings, and proceeded to 

 business. For a really brisk trade there was nothing 

 to equal the merchant who sells his packets for " a 



