natural invitation to song, and
all joined in the latest ditties learnt at the music-hall. Away they
sped, over the roofs of South London, about them the universal glare of
sunlight, the carriage dense with tobacco-smoke. Ho for the bottle of
muddy ale, passed round in genial fellowship from mouth to mouth!
Pennyloaf would not drink of it; she had a dread of all such bottles.
In her heart she rejoiced that Bob knew no craving for strong liquor.
Towards the end of the journey the young man with the concertina passed
round his hat.

Clem Peckover had come by the same train; she was one of a large party
which had followed close behind Bob and Pennyloaf to the railway
station. Now they followed along the long corridors into the 'Paliss,'
with many a loud expression of mockery, with hee-hawing laughter, with
coarse jokes. Depend upon it, Clem was gorgeously arrayed; amid her
satellites she swept on 'like a stately ship of Tarsus, bound for the
isles of Javan or Gadire;' her face was aflame, her eyes flashed in
enjoyment of the uproar. Jack Bartley wore a high hat--Bob never had
owned one in his life--and about his neck was a tie of crimson; yellow
was his waistcoat, even such a waistcoat as you may see in Pall Mall,
and his walking-stick had a nigger's head for handle. He was the oracle
of the maidens around him; every moment the appeal was to 'Jeck! Jeck!'
Suke Jollop, who would in reality have preferred to accompany Bob and
his allies, whispered it about that Jack had two-pound-ten in his
pocket, and was going to spend every penny of it before he left the
'Paliss'--yes, 'every bloomin' penny!'

Thus early in the day, the grounds were of course preferred to the
interior of the glass house. Bob and Pennyloaf bent their steps to the
fair. Here already was gathered much goodly company; above their heads
hung a thick white wavering cloud of dust. Swing-boats and
merry-go-rounds are from of old the chief features of these rural
festivities; they soared and dipped and circled to the joyous music of
organs which played the same tune automatically for any number of
hours, whilst raucous voices invited all and sundry to take their turn.
Should this delight pall, behold on every hand such sports as are
dearest to the Briton, those which call for strength of sinew and
exactitude of aim. The philosophic mind would have noted with interest
how ingeniously these games were made to appeal to the patriotism of
the throng. Did you choose