Under the hill-side in a quiet hollow had been pitched a large and commodious tent. Journeyman mentioned that it was the West London Gospel-tent. He thought the parson would have it pretty well all to himself, and they stopped before a van filled with barrels of Watford ales. A barrel had been taken from the van and placed on a small table; glasses of beer were being served to a thirsty crowd; and all around were little canvas shelters, whence men shouted, "'Commodation, 'commodation."
The sun had risen high, and what clouds remained floated away like filaments of white cotton. The Grand Stand, dotted like a ceiling with flies, stood out distinct and harsh upon a burning plain of blue. The light beat fiercely upon the booths, the carriages, the vehicles, the "rings," the various stands. The country around was lost in the haze and dazzle of the sunlight; but a square mile of downland fluttered with flags and canvas, and the great mob swelled, and smoked, and drank, shied sticks at Aunt Sally, and rode wooden horses. And through this crush of perspiring, shrieking humanity Journeyman, Esther, and Sarah sought vainly for William. The form of the ground was lost in the multitude and they could only tell by the strain in their limbs whether they were walking up or down hill. Sarah declared herself to be done up, and it was with difficulty that she was persuaded to persevere a little longer. At last Journeyman caught sight of the bookmaker's square shoulders.
"Well, so here you are. What can I do for you, ladies? Ten to one bar three or four. Will that suit you?"
"The luncheon-basket will suit us a deal better," said Sarah.
At that moment a chap came up jingling two half-crowns in his hand. "What price the favourite?" "Two to one," cried William. The two half-crowns were dropped into the satchel, and, thus encouraged, William called out louder than ever, "The old firm, the old firm; don't forget the old firm." There was a smile on his lips while he halloaed—a cheery, good-natured smile, which made him popular and brought him many a customer.
"On the Der-by, on the Der-by, on the Der-by!" All kinds and conditions of men came to make bets with him; custom was brisk; he could not join the women, who were busy with the lunch-basket, but he and Teddy would be thankful for the biggest drink they could get them. "Ginger beer with a drop of whiskey in it, that's about it, Teddy?"
"Yes, guv'nor, that'll do for me…. We're getting pretty full on
Dewberry; might come down a point, I think."
"All right, Teddy…. And if you'd cut us a couple each of strong sandwiches—you can manage a couple, Teddy?"
"I think I can, guv'nor."
There was a nice piece of beef in the basket, and Esther cut several large sandwiches, buttering the bread thickly and adding plenty of mustard. When she brought them over William bent down and whispered—