No. I.
Scene—A street of Gingerbread, Sweetstuff, and Toy-stalls, "Cocoa-nut Shies," "Box-pitching Saloons," &c., forming the approach to the more festive portion of the Fair, from which proceeds a cheerful cacophony of orchestrions, barrel-organs, steam-whistles, gongs, big drums, rattles, and speaking-trumpets.
Proprietors of Cocoa-nut Shies. Now, then, play up all o' you—ar-har! There goes another on 'em! That's the way to 'it 'em—win all yer like, &c.
A Rival Proprietor (pointing to his target, through the centre of which his partner's head is protruded). Look at that! Ain't that better nor any coker-nut? Every time you 'it my mate's 'ed, you git a good cigar! (As the by-standers hang back, from motives of humanity.) 'Ere, 'ave a go at 'im, some o' you—give 'im a little encouragement!
The Head (plaintively). Don't neglect a man as is doing his best to please yer, gen'l'men! (A soft-hearted Bystander takes a shot at him, out of sheer compassion, and misses.) Try agen, Sir. I ain't 'ere to be idle!
A Sharp Little Girl (presiding over a sloping Chinese Billiard-board). Now, my dears—(To a group of boys, of about her own age)—'ave what yer like. A penny a pull, and a prize every time! Wherever the marble rolls, you 'ave any one article on the board!
[One of the boys pays a penny, and pulls a handle, propelling a marble, which, after striking a bell at the top of the slope, wobbles down into a compartment.
The Boy (indicating a gorgeous china ornament on the board). I'll 'ave one o' them—to take 'ome to mother.
The S.L.G. (with pitying superiority). No, my boy, you can go to a shop and buy one o' them for sixpence if you like—but 'ere you must 'ave what you git!
[She awards him a very dingy lead-pencil, with which he departs, abashed, and evidently revolving her dark saying in his perplexed mind.
Proprietor of a Box-pitching Saloon. One penny a ball! For hevery ball that goes in the boxes, you choose any prize you like! (With sorrow and sympathy, to a female Competitor.) Too 'ard, Lady, too 'ard! (To a male Comp., whose ball has struck the edge of the box, and bounced off.) Very near, Sir!
[Several Competitors expend penny after penny unsuccessfully, and walk away, with a grin of entire satisfaction.
Joe (landing a ball in one of the boxes, after four failures). I told 'ee I'd get waun in! (To his Young Woman.) What are ye goin' to 'ave, Melia?
Melia (hovering undecidedly over a glittering array of shell-boxes, cheap photograph-albums and crockery). I'll take one o'—no, I won't neither.... I really don't know what to 'ave!
Joe (with masculine impatience). Well, go on—take summat, can't ye! (Melia selects a cup and saucer, as the simplest solution of the problem.) I doan't carl that mooch of a show for fippence, I doan't. Theer, gi' us 'old on it. [He stows the china away in his side-pockets.
Melia. You took an' 'urried me so—else I don't know as I fancied a cup and sarcer so partickler. I wonder if the man 'ud change it, supposin' we was to go back and ast 'im!
Joe (slapping his thigh). Well, you are a gell and no mistake! Come along back and git whatever 'tis you've a mind to. (Returning.) 'Ere, Master, will ye gi' this young woman summat else for this 'ere? (He extracts the cup in fragments.) 'Ullo, look a' that now! (To Melia.) Theer, it's all right—doan't take on 'bout it.—I'll 'ave another go to make it oop. (He pitches ball after ball without success.) I wawn't be bett. I lay I'll git 'un in afoor I've done! (He is at last successful.) Theer—now, ye can please yourself, and doan't choose nawthen' foolish this time! (He strolls on with lordly indifference, and is presently rejoined by Melia.) Well, what did ye take arter all?
Melia. I got so flustered like, for fear o' losin' you, I just up and took the first that came 'andy.
Joe. Why, if ye ain't bin and took another cup an' sarcer! hor—hor! that's a good 'un, that is! Take keer on it, it's cost money enough any 'ow—'t wouldn't be no bargain if it wur a 'ole tea-set! What's goin' on 'ere?
[A venerable old Sportsman, whom the reader may possibly recollect having met before, has collected a small crowd in a convenient corner; his stock-in-trade consists of an innocent-looking basket, with a linen-cover, upon which are a sharpened skewer and a narrow strip of cloth.
The Sportsman. I'll undertake to show you more fun in five minutes, than you'll get over there in two: (with a vague suspicion that this is rather a lame conclusion)—in ten, I should say! This 'ere's a simple enough little game, when you know the trick of it, and I'm on'y a learnin' it myself. I ain't doin' this for money. I got money enough to sink a ship—it's on'y for my own amusement. Now you watch me a doin' up this garter—keep yer eye on it. (He coils up the strip.) It goes up 'ere, ye see, and down there, and in 'ere agin, and then round. Now, I'm ready to bet anything from a sovereign to a shilling, nobody 'ere can prick the middle. I'll tell ye if ye win. I'm ole Billy Fairplay, and I don't cheat! (A Spotty-faced Man, after intently following the process, says he believes he could find the middle.) Well, don't tell—that's all. I'm 'ere all alone, agin the lot o' ye, and I want to win if I can—one dog to a bone! (The S.-F.M. produces a florin from a mouldy purse, and stakes it, and makes a dab at the coil with the skewer.) No, ye're wrong—that's outside! (O.B.F. pulls the strip out.) By Gum, ye've done it, after all! 'Ere's four bob for you, and I'm every bit as pleased as if I'd won myself! 'Oo'll try next?
A Smart Young Man (with a brilliant pin in a dirty necktie, to Joe). I don't see how it's done—do you?
Joe. Ye will if you don't take yer eyes off it—theer, I could tell ye the middle now, I could.
The Sp.-F.M. Law, yes, it's simple enough. I done it first time.
Old B.F. Give an old man a chance to get a bit. If any party 'ere 'as found me out, let him 'old 'is tongue—it's all I ask. (To Joe.) You've seen this afore, I know!
Joe. Noa, I ain't—but I could tell ye th' middle.
Old B.F. Will ye bet on it? Come—not too 'igh, but just to show you've confidence in your opinion!
Joe (cautiously). I woant bet wi' ye, but I'll hev a try, just for nawthen, if ye like!
Old B.F. Well, I want to see if you really do know it—so, jest for once, I ain't no objection. (Joe pricks the garter.) Yes, you've found the middle, sure enough! It's a good job there was no money on—for me, leastwise!
The Sp.-F.M. I've a good mind to 'ave another try.
The Sm. Y.M. I wouldn't. You'll lose. I could see you on'y guessed the first time. (The Sp. F.M., however, extracts a shilling, stakes it—and loses.) There, I could ha' told you you was wrong—(To Joe)—couldn't you?
Joe. Yes, he art to ha' pricked moor to waun side of 'un. (The Sp.-F.M. stakes another florin.) Now he's done it, if ye like!
O.B.F. There, ye see, I'm as often wrong as not myself. (To the Sp.-F.M.) There's your four bob, Sir. Now, jest once more!
Joe (to Melia). I'll git the price o' that theer cup an' sarcer out of 'un, any'ow. (To O.B.F.) I'll ha' a tanner wi' ye!
O.B.F. 'Alf a soverin, if you like—it's all the same to me!
Joe (after pricking). I thart I 'ad 'un that time, too, I did!
The Sm. Y.M. You shouldn't ha' changed your mind—you were right enough afore!
Joe. Yes, I should ha' stuck to it. (To O.B.F.) I'll bet ye two bob on the next go—come!
O.B.F. Well, I don't like to say no, though I can see, plain enough, you know too much. (Joe pricks; O.B.F. pulls away the strip, and leaves the skewer outside.) I could ha' sworn you done me that time—but there ye are, ye see, there's never no tellin' at this game—and that's the charm on it!
[Joe walks on with Melia in a more subdued frame of mind.
The Sm. Y.M. (in the ear of the Spotty-faced One). I say, I got a job o' my own to attend to—jest pass the word to the Old Man, when he's done with this pitch, to turn up beyind the swing-boats there, and come along yourself, if yer can. It's the old lay I'm on—the prize-packets fake.
The Sp.-F.M. Right—we'll give yer a look in presently—it'll be a little change for the Ole Man—trades's somethin' cruel 'ere!