from the number of wild-beast shows, caravans, gingerbread stalls, and the like, that a fair was being held.  Now, as I had always been partial to fairs, I felt glad that I had fallen in with the crowd which had conducted me to the present one, and, casting away as much as I was able all gloomy thoughts, I did my best to enter into the diversions of the fair; staring at the wonderful representations of animals on canvas hung up before the shows of wild beasts, which, by the bye, are frequently found much more worthy of admiration than the real beasts themselves; listening to the jokes of the merry-andrews from the platforms in front of the temporary theatres, or admiring the splendid tinsel dresses of the performers who thronged the stages in the intervals of the entertainments; and in this manner, occasionally gazing and occasionally listening, I passed through the town till I came in front of a large edifice looking full upon the majestic bosom of the Thames.

It was a massive stone edifice, built in an antique

style, and black with age, with a broad esplanade between it and the river, on which, mixed with a few people from the fair, I observed moving about a great many individuals in quaint dresses of blue, with strange three-cornered hats on their heads; most of them were mutilated; this had a wooden leg—this wanted an arm; some had but one eye; and as I gazed upon the edifice, and the singular-looking individuals who moved before it, I guessed where I was.  “I am at ---,” [22] said I; “these individuals are battered tars of Old England, and this edifice, once the favourite abode of Glorious Elizabeth, is the refuge which a grateful country has allotted to them.  Here they can rest their weary bodies; at their ease talk over the actions in which they have been injured; and, with the tear of enthusiasm flowing from their eyes, boast how they have trod the deck of fame with Rodney, or Nelson, or others whose names stand emblazoned in the naval annals of their country.”

Turning to the right, I entered a park or wood consisting of enormous trees, occupying the foot, sides, and top of a hill which rose behind the town; there were multitudes of people among the trees, diverting themselves in various ways.  Coming to the top of the hill, I was presently stopped by a lofty wall, along which I walked, till, coming to a small gate, I passed through, and found myself on an extensive green plain, on one side bounded in part by the wall of the park, and on the others, in the distance, by extensive ranges of houses; to the south-east was a lofty eminence, partially clothed with wood.  The plain exhibited an animated scene, a kind of continuation of the fair below;

there were multitudes of people upon it, many tents, and shows; there was also horse-racing, and much noise and shouting, the sun shining brightly overhead.  After gazing at the horse-racing for a little time, feeling myself somewhat tired, I went up to one of the tents, and laid myself down on the grass.  There was much noise in the tent.  “Who will stand me?” said a voice with a slight tendency to lisp.  “Will you, my lord?”  “Yes,” said another voice.  Then there was a sound as of a piece of money banging on a table.  “Lost! lost! lost!” cried several voices; and then the banging down of the money, and the “Lost! lost! lost!” were frequently repeated; at last the second voice exclaimed, “I will try no more; you have cheated me.”  “Never cheated any one in my life, my lord—all fair—all chance.  Them that finds, wins—them that can’t finds, loses.  Any one else try?  Who’ll try?  Will you, my lord?” and then it appeared that some other lord tried, for I heard more money flung down.  Then again the cry of “Lost! lost!”—then again the sound of money, and so on.  Once or twice, but not more, I heard “Won! won!” but the predominant cry was “Lost! lost!”  At last there was a considerable hubbub, and the words “Cheat!” “Rogue!” and “You filched away the pea!” were used freely by more voices than one, to which the voice with the tendency to lisp replied, “Never filched a pea in my life; would scorn it.  Always glad when folks wins; but, as those here don’t appear to be civil, nor to wish to play any more, I shall take myself off with my table; so, good day, gentlemen.”

CHAPTER LIII

Singular Table—No Money—Out of Employ—My Bonnet—We of the Thimble—Good Wages—Wisely Resolved—Strangest Way in the World—Fat Gentleman—Not Such Another—First Edition—Not Very Easy—Won’t Close—Avella Gorgio—Alarmed Look.

Presently a man emerged from the tent, bearing before him a rather singular table; it appeared to be of white deal, was exceedingly small at the top, and with very long legs.  At a few yards from the entrance he paused, and looked round, as if to decide on the direction which he should take; presently, his eye glancing on me as I lay upon the ground, he started, and appeared for a moment inclined to make off as quick as possible, table and all.  In a moment, however, he seemed to recover assurance, and, coming up to the place where I was, the long legs of the table projecting before him, he cried, “Glad to see you here, my lord.”

“Thank you,” said I, “it’s a fine day.”

“Very fine, my lord; will your lordship play?  Them that finds, wins—them that don’t finds, loses.”

“Play at what?” said I.

“Only at the thimble and pea, my lord.”

“I never heard of such a game.”

“Didn’t you?  Well, I’ll soon teach you,” said he, placing the table down.  “All you have to do is to put a sovereign down on my table, and to find the pea, which I put under one of my thimbles.  If you find it,—and it is easy enough to find it,—I give you a sovereign besides your own: for them that finds, wins.”

“And them that don’t finds, loses,” said I; “no, I don’t wish to play.”

“Why not, my lord?”

“Why, in the first place, I have no money.”

“Oh, you have no money, that of course alters the case.  If you have no money, you can’t play.  Well, I suppose I must be seeing after my customers,” said he, glancing over the plain.

“Good day,” said I.

“Good day,” said the man slowly, but without moving, and as if in reflection.  After a moment or two, looking at me inquiringly, he added, “Out of employ?”

“Yes,” said I, “out of employ.”

The man measured me with his eye as I lay on the ground.  At length he said, “May I speak a word or two to you, my lord?”

“As many as you please,” said I.

“Then just come a little out of hearing, a little further on the grass, if you please, my lord.”

“Why do you call me my lord?” said I, as I arose and followed him.

“We of the thimble always calls our customers lords,” said the man; “but I won’t call you such a foolish name any more; come along.”

The man walked along the plain till he came to the side of a dry pit, when, looking round to see that no one was nigh, he laid his table on the grass,

and, sitting down with his legs over the side of the pit, he motioned me to do the same.  “So you are in want of employ,” said he, after I had sat down beside him.

“Yes,” said I, “I am very much in want of