IN WILTSHIRE 311 



beer, and discussing the affairs of the nation at 

 large and in small. The church bell tolled. 

 ''Who's that for?" asked one of the little party. 

 ''Rasmus Wintle," said the landlady. The 

 inquirer pulled out a book, referred to It, and 

 then referred to the deceased In most kindly, 

 sympathetic terms. " Dang his old eyes," says 

 he, "he's the third on our club done it this 

 month." 



I have seen Weyhill, but too late to please 

 me. The right time to gain acquaintance with 

 the place was before I was born, when railways 

 were not, neither auctions at every little town's 

 market ; and when live-stock exchanges such as 

 Weyhill's and any number of others flourished 

 exceedingly. Those were the days of smock- 

 frocks and "statties," also pleasure fairs as the 

 chief show diversions for a country-side, saving 

 the club feasts ; long ere excursion trains carried 

 off dwellers in the wilds and their spendlng-money 

 to the big towns. A celebrated ditty relating to 

 Guy Fawkes, that Prince of Sinlsters, does, as 

 readers will recollect, account for a great many 

 things not happening, as, for instance, Guy's 

 inability to come that way — meaning over Vaux- 

 hall Bridge — because it wasn't built, sirs. On 

 analogous reasoning I can account for Weyhill 

 in its heyday and myself having been strangers. 

 It was built far enough back. I was not, so I 

 could not come that way in time for its glories. 

 Now that I have gone over the fair ground with 

 its very reminiscent, if dilapidated, fixings, I shall 

 not be satisfied till I have done one of its fairs, 

 the best of the period. 



Newmarket, I believe, or feeders in that corner 

 of the Eastern Counties, used to buy largely at 



