remember something of Greenwich Fair, and of
those who resort to it. At all events we will try.

The road to Greenwich during the whole of Easter Monday, is in a state of
perpetual bustle and noise. Cabs, hackney-coaches, 'shay' carts,
coal-waggons, stages, omnibuses, sociables, gigs, donkey-chaises--all
crammed with people (for the question never is, what the horse can draw,
but what the vehicle will hold), roll along at their utmost speed; the
dust flies in clouds, ginger-beer corks go off in volleys, the balcony of
every public-house is crowded with people, smoking and drinking, half the
private houses are turned into tea-shops, fiddles are in great request,
every little fruit-shop displays its stall of gilt gingerbread and penny
toys; turnpike men are in despair; horses won't go on, and wheels will
come off; ladies in 'carawans' scream with fright at every fresh
concussion, and their admirers find it necessary to sit remarkably close
to them, by way of encouragement; servants-of-all-work, who are not
allowed to have followers, and have got a holiday for the day, make the
most of their time with the faithful admirer who waits for a stolen
interview at the corner of the street every night, when they go to fetch
the beer--apprentices grow sentimental, and straw-bonnet makers kind.
Everybody is anxious to get on, and actuated by the common wish to be at
the fair, or in the park, as soon as possible.

Pedestrians linger in groups at the roadside, unable to resist the
allurements of the stout proprietress of the 'Jack-in-the-box, three
shies a penny,' or the more splendid offers of the man with three
thimbles and a pea on a little round board, who astonishes the bewildered
crowd with some such address as, 'Here's the sort o' game to make you
laugh seven years arter you're dead, and turn ev'ry air on your ed gray
vith delight! Three thimbles and vun little pea--with a vun, two, three,
and a two, three, vun: catch him who can, look on, keep your eyes open,
and niver say die! niver mind the change, and the expense: all fair and
above board: them as don't play can't vin, and luck attend the ryal
sportsman! Bet any gen'lm'n any sum of money, from harf-a-crown up to a
suverin, as he doesn't name the thimble as kivers the pea!' Here some
greenhorn whispers his friend that he distinctly saw the pea roll under
the middle thimble--an impression which is immediately confirmed by a
gentleman in top-boots, who is standing by, and