'Oiler down among 'ills, dontcher know, ancient trees and a jolly
big green.
Reglar old Rip-van-Winkleish spot, sech as CALDECOTT ought to ha'
sketched.
Though I ain't noways nuts on the pastoral, even Yours Truly wos
fetched.

Pooty sight and no error, old pal! 'Twos a grand "Aughticultural
Show,"
So the "Progrum of Sports" told the public. Fruit, flowers, and
live poultry, yer know.
Big markee and a range of old 'en-coops, sports, niggers, a smart
local band,
Cottage gardemn', cheese, roosters, and races! Rum mix, but I gave
it a 'and.

I do like to hencourage the joskins. One thing though, wos
fiddle-de-dee,
They 'ad a "Refreshment Tent," CHARLIE. 'Oh my! Ginger-ale and
weak tea!
Nothink stronger, old pal, s'elp me bob! Fancy _me_ flopping down
on a form
A-munching plum-putty, and lapping Bohea as wos not even warm!

This 'ere 'Arrygate's short of amusements. There's niggers and
bands on the "Stray"
(Big lumpy old field in a 'ole, wich if properly managed might pay.)
Mysterious Minstrels with masks on, a bleating contralto in black,
With a orful tremoler, my pippin!--yus, these are the pick of the
pack.