WEY HILL FAIR.

THE country roads converging towards the high table-land overlooking the south-eastern corner of Salisbury Plain 4criarl through pleasant valleys bordered with rich water. aileado w s, past villages of thatched cottages standing in bright Flower-gardens, and then over higher ground to open cornfields, where the wind blows in long golden ripples across the ripe corn. But on a warm, misty October morning the corn is all carried, and the trees and hedges are turning russet. Trhe raindrops hang on scarlet hips and haws and spindlewood- kerries, and on black, grape-like bunches of privet and elder ; there are still ripe and unripe blackberries on the brambles sander the reddening leaves. It has rained all night, and the Cat roads are yielding and muddy, and bear the impress of denumerable footprints of cattle, sheep, and horses; even the !broad grassy tracks by the roadside are beaten down and trodden lard. It is as if a four-footed army had passed by under cover -of the night. If we follow the footprints they will lead us up -to Wey Hill Common, where the army is encamped. For eleven amontlis and three weeks of the year Wey Hill Common is as other commons, frequented chiefly by golf-players. The .passer-by might pause to admire the blue distance on -one side of him, or the training-stables where two Grand National winners have been trained on the other, ac- -cording to his particular tastes. He might also notice a deserted-looking settlement of thatched one-storied buildings overlooking the Common, with mocking advertisements of c'aeer for man and beast painted on the chalk "mud" walls, and just beyond the church there is an oblong piece of

ground inclosed by the same mud-walls, and on padlocked wooden doors in the wall facing the road is the inscription " Farnham Row." But cn the morning of October 10th the deserted village on the hill is filled with a motley crowd of inhabitants,—gipsy vans, circuses, and merry.

go-rounds have come on from Petersfield Fair, and have en. camped under sail-cloth awnings and tents, the booths and sheds have been let according to immemorial custom, the doors of " Farnham Row" are open, and the common-land is all parcelled out with hurdles into pens for sheep and cattle, or larger inclosures for horses. For centuries cattle and sheep have been driven along the drove-roads that stretch north-east and south-west from Wey Hill to East Anglia and far Cornwall. In the middle of the fourteenth century the mysterious author of "The Vision of Piers Plowman" made one of his characters, Covetousness, allude to " Wy and Winchester" as evidently typical, well-known fairs :—

ft. I have ben Coveytouse,' (plod this caityfe. '1 biknowe it here; For some time I served S3rnme atte Stile,

And was his prentis yplight his profit to wayte.

First I lerned to lye a leaf other tweyne, Wikkedlich to weye was my furst lessoun.

To Wy and to Wynchestre I went to the faire,

With many manere merchandise as my Maistre mehight ; Ne had the grace of gyle ygo amonge my ware, It had be unsolde this serene yere, so me God helpe!'"

St. Giles's Fair, held on a hill near Winchester, was instituted by William the Conqueror ; the origin of the fair on Wey Hill is even more remote, and is lost in antiquity. "Farnham

Row " for centuries has been the market for Surrey and Kent and Sussex hop-gardens, and though Farnham itself is some thirty or thirty-five miles distant, and railways have altered all the conditions of trade, pungent pockets of hops are still housed and sold in the oblong inclosure. The flocks and herds that have arrived overnight from different parts of England are driven into their allotted pens by break of day, and by 10 o'clock the auctioneers in their carts are in full swing, and "lots" of Hampshire Down sheep or sturdy short- horn steers are being driven off the ground as fast as they are sold. This year the number of sheep on the ground is below the average, about twelve thousand or so, bat they are realising fair prices, and an unwonted sound of bleating comes from the pens containing the white-faced horned Dorsets, who have come from the West country beyond Chard and Crewkerne, accompanied by newly dropped lambs. It is difficult to steer a way through the droves of cattle, and to avoid injuring the feelings of the sheep-dogs who mount guard outside the sheep-pens over their masters' coats. The muzzling order seems to press with peculiar hardness on these wise creatures, but perhaps it adds a feeling of security to the pedestrian as he passes closely by them. The wide, open space beyond the booths that looks over the distant plain ending in a blue haze is sacred to horses, and here are groups and strings of bays, chestnuts, and greys, with a background on the far side of the Common of golden beeches and dark Scotch firs. In the wattled inclosures are splendid cart-horses, their manes and tails plaited and ornamented with " ospreys" of straw, that are being led up and down before intending purchasers, who gather in knots and discuss points and paces " in broad South-country speech.

On the open ground beyond the hurdles are strings of Welsh ponies guarded by small boys, and groups of horses with their attendants, who are incessantly trotting out one

or another, encouraging their paces with loud shouts and the flourishing of flags made of pink or blue glazed calico. The lads make their own lines with the horses they are

showing off, and scatter groups of onlookers indiscriminately, calling on them to admire and to buy. "You weight-carryin' divil," shouts a son of Erin admiringly, "they'll be sorry in

their hearts when they see you led away," and a tall young Hercules in a white top-hat with pink shirt-sleeves and drab breeches and gaiters, has already shouted himself hoarse. As he runs up and down with the animals be is anxious to sell, his enthusiasm rises higher and higher, till at last he can only

fling out his arms, rattle his stick inside his white hat, and shout despairingly, " Oh ! gentlemen— !" The frequent praise lavished on the horses is that they are fit to carry Lord Rosebery, and are better bred than g Ladas.' "Look at the nobleman, gentlemen, look at him! He's fit to

carry the Queen to church ! He walks like a young lady going to her first ball,"—is heard on all sides, while the boys shout incessantly and flourish their pink and blue tags. One of the dealers, a dark, resolute-looking man, with a persuasive smile and manner, to whom the her- culean young fellow in the white hat acts as lieutenant, is showing off a young horse which he says is "coming four," though it is undeniably a two-year-old. In answer to a ques- tion he avers that it has never been ridden before, and immediately orders his lieutenant to mount. The order is obeyed, but directly the horse feels the man's weight on his back he gathers himself together in a hunch and with a hasty buck-jump unseats his would-be jockey. Nothing daunted, the owner of the white hat and brilliantly flashing teeth tries again, balancing himself horizontally for a while on the bare chestnut back, holding on by the mane, for the horse has neither saddle nor bridle. In a few minutes he puts hie leg cautiously over and sits upright, and tho horse, after two or three capers, submits, and allows himself to be ridden triumphantly amid a shower of oratory. The late gales have kept away some of the Irish and Canadian horses, and there are not so many colts as usual, but the scene is animated and gay, as the horses are led or ridden up and down the road or over the hedges by boys in jcckey-caps or tall hats, ornamented with tufts of ribbon, 'who break forth in loud paeans when a sale is concluded. There are booths of cakes and gingerbread besides the licensed refreshment huts, and outside the white mud-wall is a double line of shops and tents. The passer-by is invited to buy gloves, saddlery, and horse.clothing, cheeses or toys, to have his photograph taken, developed, and framed in five minutes, to shoot at egg-shells or balls tossed into the air by jets of water, or at a " pigeon " suspended from a sort of !fishing-rod, to shy at cocoanuts or bottles, and to ride on merry-go-rounds. The peep-shows and circus will not open till evening, the wardrobe of the circus is being washed by the roadside, and gaily-spangled dresses, baggy clown's costumes, and acrobat tights are hanging up to dry. The comely washer- woman is part-owner of the circus ; she has been "in this tine " all her life, and her father and mother before her, and she does not think she could ever take to any other. An open- air service is held for the fair-folk on Sunday, and babies are .christened in the church that looks with friendly eyes on the mushroom crowd at its doors, and there are gipsy graves in the churchyard, with flowers freshly laid on them by rela- tions who have once again made their annual visit to the lonely spot. All through the afternoon the bargaining and chaffering goes on, but as the sun grows low in the western horizon and floods the valley and distant hills with golden light the cattle and horses are being driven along the road, and the flocks of sheep still remaining are being gathered together by the shepherds and their faithful dogs. It is no easy matter to keep the small flocks separate, to head one sock into a corner while another crosses the road in an opposite direction, but with much calling and incessant barking the difficulties are overcome, and soon the fair will be left to the busy crowd of sightseers. The hop-fair is held on the second day, which is also more decidedly the "pleasure•fair," but by the end of the week the vans and carts have moved on, Wey Hill is deserted again, and in a short time the grass grows over the worn foot-tracks, windows and doors are boarded up, hurdles are stacked away, and the gates of "Farnham Row" are locked for another year.