e him among all this? It is not for him; yet he goes
to see it.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER VII.

THE crowd began to pass more thickly, when Amaryllis saw a man coming up
the road in the opposite direction to that in which the multitude was
moving. They were going to the fair; he had his back to it, and a party
in a trap rallied him smartly for his folly.

"What! bean't you a-going to fair? Why, Measter Duck, what's up? Looking
for a thunderstorm?"--which young ducks are supposed to enjoy. "Ha! ha!
ha!"

Measter Duck, with a broad grin on his face, nevertheless plodded up the
hill, and passed beneath Amaryllis.

She knew him very well, for he lived in the hamlet, but she would not
have taken any notice of him had he not been so elaborately dressed. His
high silk hat shone glossy; his black broadcloth coat was new and
carefully brushed; he was in black all over, in contrast with the mass
of people who had gone by that morning. A blue necktie, bright and
clean, spotless linen, gloves rolled up in a ball in one hand, whiskers
brushed, boots shining, teeth clean, Johnny was off to the fair!

The coat fitted him to a nicety; it had, in fact, no chance to do
otherwise, for his great back and shoulders stretched it tight, and
would have done so had it been made like a sack. Of all the big men who
had gone by that day Jack Duck was the biggest; his back was immense,
and straight, too, for he walked upright for a farmer, nor was his bulk
altogether without effect, for he was not over-burdened with abdomen, so
that it showed to the best advantage. He was a little over the average
height, but not tall; he had grown laterally.

He could lift two sacks of wheat from the ground. You just try to lift
_one_.

His sleeves were too long, so that only the great knuckles of his
speckled hands were visible. Red whiskers, red hair, blue eyes, speckled
face, straight lips, thick, like the edge of an earthenware pitcher, and
of much the same coarse red hue, always a ready grin, a round, hard
head, which you might have hit safely with a mallet; and there is the
picture.

For some reason, very big men do not look well in glossy black coats and
silk hats; they seem to want wideawakes, bowlers, caps, anything rather
than a Paris hat, and some loose-cut jacket of a free-and-easy colour,
suitable for the field, or cricket, or boating. They do not belong to
the town and narrow doorways; Nature grew them for hills and fields.