Every one who was not buying the
eternal lemonade was eating something; and the faces of children shone
with gourmand rapture; indeed, very often the eyes of them were all you
saw, half-closed in palate-gloating over a huge apple, or a bulky oblong
of popcorn, partly unwrapped from its blue tissue-paper cover; or else it
might be a luscious pink crescent of watermelon, that left its ravisher
stained and dripping to the brow.
Here, as in the morning, the hawkers raised their cries in unintermittent
shrillness, offering to the musically inclined the Happy Evenings Song-
book, alleged to contain those treasures, all the latest songs of the day,
or presented for the consideration of the humorous the Lawrence Lapearl
Joke-book, setting forth in full the art of comical entertainment and
repartee. (Schofields' Henry bought two of these--no doubt on the
principle that two were twice as instructive as one--intending to bury
himself in study and do battle with Tom Martin on his own ground.)
Here swayed the myriad palm-leaf fans; here paraded blushing youth and
rosy maiden, more relentlessly arm-in-arm than ever; here crept the
octogenarian, Mr. Bodeffer, shaking on cane and the shoulder of posterity;
here waddled Mr. Snoddy, who had hurried through the animal tent for fear
of meeting the elephant; here marched sturdy yeomen and stout wives; here
came William Todd and his Anna Belle, the good William hushed with the
embarrassments of love, but looking out warily with the white of his eye
for Mr.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141