ng out its
little tunes--the wedding march from "Lohengrin" among them--and the
little mechanical horsemen are charging in the tourney to the blast of
the little mechanical trumpeter. At one o'clock they run only a single
course; but at noon the glories of Ashby-de-la-Zouche are enacted.

By nine o'clock on the Friday morning the market square is covered
with rectangular yellow heaps arranged with Dutch systematic order
and symmetry, many of them protected by tarpaulins, and the square
is filled also with phlegmatic sellers and buyers, smoking, smoking,
unceasingly smoking, and discussing the weather and the cheese,
the cheese and the Government.

Not till ten may business begin. Instantly the first stroke of ten
sounds the aspect of the place is changed. The Government and the
weather recede; cheese emerges triumphant. Tarpaulins are stripped off;
a new expression settles upon the features both of buyers and sellers;
the dealers begin to move swiftly from one heap to another. They feel
the cheeses, pat them, listen to them, plunge in their scoops and
remove a long pink stick which they roll in their fingers, smell or
taste and then neatly replace. Meanwhile, the seller stands by with an
air part self-satisfaction, part contempt, part pity, part detachment,
as who should say "It matters nothing to me whether this fussy fellow
thinks the cheese good or not, buys it or not; but whether he thinks
it good or bad, or whether he buys, or leaves it, it is still the
best cheese in Alkmaar market, and some one will give me my price".

The seller gnaws his cigar, the buyer asks him what he asks. The buyer
makes an offer. The seller refuses. The buyer increases it. The seller
either refuses or accepts. In accepting, or drawing near acceptance,
he extends his hand, which the buyer strikes once, and then pausing,
strikes again. Apparently two such movements clench the bargain;
but I must confess to being a bad guide here, for I could find no
absolute rule to follow. The whole process of Alkmaar chaffering
is exceedingly perplexing and elusive. Otherwise the buyer walks
away to other cheeses, the seller by no means unconscious of his
movements. A little later he returns, and then as likely as not his
terms are accepted, unless another has been beforehand with him and
bought the lot.

Not until half-past ten strikes may the weighing begin. At that hour
the many porters suddenly spring into activity and hasten to the
Weigh House w