Presently the sound of wheels was heard, and Jim Fry’s “trap” halted outside the little garden-gate. Jim himself looked very smart in his best clothes; his hat being set on at a knowing angle over his well-sleeked locks; a nosegay about the size of a saucer in his button-hole. There were flowers, too, at the horse’s ears, and the harness was polished to a nicety.
“Now, then, how had we best divide?” inquired Jim. “Suppose you sit next me, Maggie, and Rosie t’ other side of you? And if you’ll get up behind wi’ the little chap, Mr. Reed, you’ll just about balance us.”
John Reed stared a little, winked solemnly at his wife, and finally agreed; and the girls came tripping down the path, Maggie blushing as she clambered into the cart, while Rosie, with many giggles, ascended on the other side. Then little John waved his hand from his place beside his father, big John shouted “Right!” in a stentorian voice, Jim Fry cracked the whip, and they were off.
Oh, what a merry drive was that! The old horse hammering along briskly, up the hills as well as down, and covering the ground at a prodigious rate, constantly overtaking other parties of pleasure-seekers who were proceeding more soberly, some on waggons, some on foot, some in little donkey carts. Now the pretty village of Stourpaine was left behind; a few old folks came to their doors to look after the dashing equipage, and some children ran for a little way beside the horse; now they turned off by Steepleton, and for a while enjoyed the shade of the plantation farther on; and at last they drew near the scene of the Fair itself, being forced to proceed more slowly, for the road was well-nigh blocked with vehicles.
A mingled and extraordinary din greeted their ears as they approached. The shrieking music of the merry-go-rounds mingling with the shouting and laughter of many voices, the banging of the shooting-galleries, the hoarse cries intermingled with trumpet-blasts from proprietors of the different shows.
Johnny was at first disposed to be alarmed, and clutched his father’s hand somewhat tightly, but when the latter cheerily remarked that it was “rare sport” the little fellow strove to put away his fears, and to think it rare sport too.
Presently he was securely mounted on John Reed’s great shoulders, and watched the jumping of the horses, which were sent from all parts of the country for sale. It was exciting to see the dealers flap their crackling calico flags, and with strange, uncouth cries urge on the animal actually under inspection to show off his paces, and to leap an adjoining hedge—the latter feat being one not often accomplished; the rider indeed, much to the delight of the lookers-on, more frequently taking the fence than the horse. It was, however, a very amusing sight, and Johnny shouted and laughed and drummed on his father’s chest with his shining little boots, and stared about him at the seething mass of heads, and at the horses thundering past, and at those other horses tied up in pickets or rows, some of them plentifully bedecked with ribbons, while the manes and tails of others were curiously ornamented with straw. Over yonder were the booths and the tents and the waggons, and the red-and-yellow roundabouts and the swings and the shooting-galleries, and the crowds and crowds of merry folk. Johnny’s spirits rose more and more as the moments passed, and he presently found himself obliged not only to drum upon his father’s chest, but to jig up and down upon his shoulder, supporting himself by the crown of John Reed’s best Sunday hat.
“Hold hard!” cried his parent good-naturedly, when a more than usually ecstatic movement had well-nigh bonneted him. “Sit still, my lad. Where be climbin’ to, eh?”
“I’m lookin’ at the roundabouts,” chanted Johnny; “all the folks ridin’, and the harses goin’ up an’ down. There’s Maggie and Jim—and Rosie a-ridin’ behind! O-o-oh, Dada, do ’ee take I to ’em!”
“Well, a promise is a promise. I did say I’d take ’ee, didn’t I? Come along, then jump down! That’s the boy! Now we’ll go. Which shall it be? That great, big, red un?”—as the child pointed with his small forefinger. “We’ll make straight for he, then. Now, will ’ee ride in front o’ Dada, or will ’ee have a horse all to yourself?”