Dark was coming on fast: and to my chagrin (for I had intended
purchasing a horse) the buying and selling of the fair were over,
the cattle-pens broken up, and the dealers gather'd round the
fiddlers, ballad singers, and gingerbread stalls. There were gaming
booths, too, driving a brisk trade at Shovel-board, All-fours, and
Costly Colors; and an eating tent, whence issued a thick reek of
cooking and loud rattle of plates. Over the entrance, I remember,
was set a notice: "_Dame Alloway from Bartholomew Fair. Here are
the best geese, and she does them as well as ever she did_." I
jostled my way along, keeping tight hold on my pockets, for fear of
cut-purses; when presently, about halfway down the street, there
arose the noise of shouting. The crowd made a rush toward it; and in
a minute I was left alone, standing before a juggler who had a sword
halfway down his throat, and had to draw it out again before he
could with any sufficiency curse the defection of his audience; but
offered to pull out a tooth for me if I wanted it.

I left him, and running after the crowd soon learn'd the cause of
this tumult.

'Twas a meagre old rascal that someone had charged with picking
pockets: and they were dragging him off to be duck'd. Now in the
heart of Wantage the little stream that runs through the town is
widen'd into a cistern about ten feet square, and five in depth,
over which hung a ducking stool for scolding wives. And since the
townspeople draw their water from this cistern, 'tis to be supposed
they do not fear the infection. A long beam on a pivot hangs out
over the pool, and to the end is a chair fasten'd; into which,
despite his kicks and screams, they now strapped this poor wretch,
whose grey locks might well have won mercy for him.