After dwelling lightly on the renown in which the village of
Lynn Hammer was held throughout the countryside, not to mention a
gallant reference to the wit, beauty, and mirth which was
assembled about me, I plunged into a facetious resume of recent
local events. This, of course, came to me easily enough, but the
crowd only saw therein the lucky ventures of a talkative
stranger, and roared with merriment at each happy allusion. And
so I came to the Bananas. Yes, we were for the fete. There
should we be the livelong afternoon, giving free shows, and only
afterwards soliciting contribution from such as could afford to
give in a good cause. God save the King!

Then I called for mine host, and after ordering ginger beer for
Judy and old ale for myself, slapped silver into his hand, and
begged as many as would so honour her to drink the lady's health.

About that there was no difficulty, and when I had despatched
the original boy- who all this while had never wavered in his
constancy to my proboscis- for a small tin pail, I prepared to
get my burden once more upon my back. But this was not to be.
Four good fellows insisted on constituting themselves
booth-bearers, and the burly drayman gallantly relieved my fair
companion of the box of puppets.

So we came in state to the grounds where the bazaar was to be
held. The parley with the gatekeeper was of short duration,
for the 'workers' scented money in our admission, and, with an
eye to the Bananas' main chance, made us quickly welcome. On my
explaining our intention to put our efforts at their service,
and any increment that might result into their pockets, their