D’Urfey’s verses, written in 1655, do not present a fair quite without attractions:—
“In fifty-five may I never thrive,
If I tell you any more than is true,
To London she came, hearing of the fame
Of a fair they call Bartholomew.
In houses of boards, men talk upon cords,
As easy as squirrels crack filberds;
But the cut-purses they do bite and rob away;
But those we suppose to be ill-birds.
For a penny you may zee a fine puppet play,