This was such a new and terrible idea that he felt unable to keep it entirely to himself. He must have someone’s opinion on the matter; and after some thought he resolved to try if Pennie could be of any service. “If I say, ‘Suppose So-and-so did so-and-so,’” he said to himself, “she won’t know it really happened, and I shall hear what she thinks. I’ll do it to-morrow on the way to Cheddington Fair.”
For the time for Cheddington Fair had come round again, and as it was the only entertainment of any kind that happened near Easney, it was looked forward to for weeks beforehand, and remembered for weeks afterwards. It was indeed an occasion of importance to all the country-side, and was considered the best fair held for many miles round. The first day was given up to the buying and selling of cattle, and after that came two days of what was called the “pleasure fair,” when all the booths and shows were open, and many wonderful sights were to be seen.
There was a wild-beast show of unusual size, a splendid circus, numbers of conjurers, places where you might fire off a rifle for a penny, merry-go-rounds where you might choose the colour of your horse, Aunt Sallys where you could win a cocoa-nut if you were skilful—no end to the attractions, no limit to the brilliancy and bustle of the scene. The gingerbread to be bought at Cheddington Fair had a peculiar excellence of its own, whether in the form of gilded kings and queens, brandy-snap, or cakes; everything else tasted tame and flat after it, as indeed did most of the events of daily life for some days following these exciting events.
The children were glad when it was settled this year that they were to go on the first day of the pleasure fair, for they had an uneasy fear that if they waited till the second all the best things would be bought from the stalls and booths. They set out therefore in very good spirits, under the care of Nurse, and Jane the nursery-maid, to walk from Easney to Cheddington, which was about a mile.
Pennie did not join in the chatter and laughter at first: she walked along with unusual soberness, for though she liked going to the fair quite as much as the others, she had just now something to think about which made her grave. The children, she reflected, would certainly spend every penny of their money to-day, besides that which mother had given them for the wild-beast show. There would be nothing at all for the mandarin. Should she make up her mind to save all hers, and buy nothing at all for herself? As she gradually resolved upon this, she began to feel that it would certainly be a very unselfish thing to do, and she held her head a little higher, and listened with superiority to her brothers and sisters as they chattered on about their money.
“I haven’t got much,” said Nancy, “hardly anything really, because I’ve got to pay for that horrid window.”
“I expect David’s got most,” said Ambrose, “he’s as rich as a Jew.”
“Jews aren’t always rich,” remarked David slowly. “Look at Mr Levi, who stands in the door of the rag-and-bone shop at Nearminster.”
Pennie could not help striking in at this point. “He doesn’t look rich,” she said, “but I dare say he’s got hoards buried in his garden.”
“He hasn’t got a garden,” objected Nancy.