Dectine of Gleaning. 105 
must give way. A country crowd stand stock 
still. 
The thumping of drums, the blaring of trumpets, 
the tootling of pan-pipes in front of the shows, fill the 
air with a din which may be heard miles away, and 
seem to give the crowd intense pleasure—far more 
than the crack band of the Coldstream Guards could 
impart. Nor are they ever weary of gazing at the 
‘pelican of the wilderness’ as the showman describes 
it—a mournful bird with draggled feathers standing 
by the entrance, a traditional part of his stock-in- 
trade. One attraction—perhaps the strongest— may 
be found in the fact that all the countryside is sure 
to be there. Each labourer or labouring woman will 
meet acquaintances from distant villages they have 
not seen or heard of for months. The rural gossip 
of half a county will be exchanged. 
In the autumn after the harvest the gleaning is 
still an important time to the cottager, though 
nothing like it used to be. Reaping by machinery 
has made rapid inroads, and there is not nearly so 
much left behind as in former days. Yet half the 
women and children of the place go out and glean, 
but very few now bake at home; they have their 
bread from the baker, who comes round in the smallest 
hamlets. Possibly they had a more wholesome 
article in the olden time, when the wheat from their 
gleanings was ground at the village mill, and the ~ 
