I remember now! Fair day is the day when all the pretty girls dress in their best and go to the fair to seek for places, to get situations. They hire themselves out for a certain length of time! – till next year, I think. Meantime they dance in their best dresses and have a very gay day of it."
"That sounds to me rather attractive," Lady Harriet remarked thoughtfully.
"A foolish fancy, your ladyship," the unfortunate Sir Tristram put in.
"Now I am resolved to go! Get me that bodice I wore at the fancy dress ball, Nancy. We shall all go – I shall be Martha, – Nancy, and old Rob."
"And – and who may be 'old Rob,' your ladyship?" Sir Tristram asked, feeling much pained at this frivolity.
"Why, you, to be sure. Come! No mumps! No dumps! We are off!"
"Oh, this is too much."
"What, Sir Tristram, is that the extent of your love for me?"
"No, no – I shall do as you wish – but," the poor old chap sighed heavily.
"To be sure you will – so now, Nancy, teach old Rob how the yokels dance, and we'll be off."
"This is too much. I can't dance in that manner."
"Dance – or leave me! Dance – or stay at home, sir!" Harriet cried sternly.
"O heaven – I'll dance," and so he tried, and the teases put him through all the absurd paces they knew, till he fell exhausted into a seat.
"That was almost true to nature," they laughed. "You will do, so come along. But don't forget your part. Don't let us see any of the airs of a nobleman or you shall leave us. We'll take you, but if you forget your part we shall certainly leave you," and they dragged him off recklessly.
At the fair, ribbons were flying, bands were playing, lads and lasses were dancing, and farmers were singing:
[Listen]
Bright and buxom lasses,
Come, the fair shall now begin,
Show your rosy faces
And our hearts ye soon shall win.
Fleet of foot, and clad with neatness,
Come and let the master choose;
Sweet of temper, all discreetness,
Who a prize like this would lose?
Done is the bargain if the maid is trusty, blythe and willing;
Done is the bargain if she accepts the master's proffered shilling!
Thus, the farmers who had come to the fair to choose a maid-servant, sang together. The maid-servants were meanwhile singing a song of their own, and everybody was in high feather.
Now to this fair had come two farmers in particular; one being farmer Plunkett, and the other, altogether a handsome fellow, named Lionel, who was the foster-brother of Plunkett. As a matter of fact, he was left in his babyhood on the doorstep of Plunkett's father, who adopted him and brought him up with his own son. The baby had had nothing by which he could be identified, but there was a ring left with him, and the instruction that it was to be shown to the Queen in case the boy should ever find himself in serious trouble when he grew up. Now both these gay farmers had come to secure maid-servants for the year, and Plunkett came up to inspect the girls as they assembled.
"What a clatter! This becomes a serious matter. How on earth is a man to make a choice with such confusion all about him?"
"Oh well, there is no haste," Lionel replied leisurely.
"No haste? I tell you, Lionel, we can't afford to lose any time. There is that farm falling to pieces for need of a competent servant to look after it! I should say there was haste, with a vengeance. We must get a good stout maid to go home with us, or we shall be in a pretty fix. You don't know much about these things, to be sure. You were always our mother's favourite, and I the clumsy bear who got most of the cuffs and ran the farm; but take my word for it, if we don't find good maids we shall soon be ruined, because you are of no more use on a farm than the fifth wheel is on a wagon."
"Oh, come, come, brother, don't – "
"That's all right! I meant no harm. You are my brother and I'll stick by you forever, but you aren't practical. Leave this maid-servant business to me, and take my word for it we must hurry the matter up and get home. Some day you'll be giving that fine ring of yours to Queen Anne, Lionel, and then heaven knows what will happen; but I suspect that whatever it is I shall find myself without a brother."
"It shall never happen. I shall live and die quite contented beneath the roof where we have grown up together and where I have been happiest."
"Ohe! Ohe! Ohe! the fair begins! Here comes the sheriff with his bell. Ye maids, come forth now, both young and old! Come forth, come forth! Make way there for the Law!" bawled a crier, clearing the way for the sheriff, who had come to preside over the business of contract-making between the serving maids and the farmers.
I the statute first will read,
Then to business we'll proceed,
the burly sheriff called at the top of his voice; and all the yokels laughed and crowded about him while he mounted a box and began to read the Law. "'Tis our royal will and pleasure – ' Hats off! Rustics, look at me! Loyal feelings let us cherish! 'We, Queen Anne, hereby decree to all subjects of the crown, dwelling here in Richmond town, whoso at the fair engages, to perform a servant's part, for a year her service pledges; from this law let none depart.'"
When the earnest money's taken, let the bargain stay unshaken!
"Now, then, ye have heard? Stick to the bargains ye make – or the law will get ye!"
"And now what can ye do, Molly Pitt?"
I can sow, sir,
I can mow, sir,
I can bake and brew,
Mend things like new,
Can mind a house, and rule it, too,
There's naught I cannot do.
"She's worth four guineas. Who will hire her?"
Molly was at once hired by a farmer.
"And now you, Polly Smith?"
I can cook, sir,
By the book, sir,
I can roast and toast,
And 'tis my boast
That nothing in house
That I preside in yet was lost.
"Polly's worth five guineas. Who wants her?"
Polly was immediately hired by a farmer. After half a dozen buxom girls had told what they could do, and had found places for the year – none of them satisfying Plunkett and Lionel, however, who are feeling almost discouraged at the outlook – Lady Harriet (who called herself Martha) and Nancy and Sir Tristram came pushing merrily into the crowd. Lady Harriet (or Martha) was certain to want to see everything. Old Sir Tristram was protesting and having a most dreadful time of it.
"This way, Rob," Martha called, dragging him by the hand and laughing. "What! must I lead you?"
"Come,
