ere are no great businesses or manufactories here.
Somehow or other the money that pays for this courtesy and commercial
knowledge, for these magnificent premises and furniture, that pays the
shareholders twenty-five per cent., must be drawn from the green meadows,
the cornfields, and the hills where the sheep feed.

On an ordinary day the customers that come to the bank's counter may be
reckoned on the fingers. Early in the morning the Post-Office people come
for their cash and change; next, some of the landlords of the principal
inns with their takings; afterwards, such of the tradesmen as have cheques
to pay in. Later on the lawyers' clerks, or the solicitors themselves drop
in; in the latter case for a chat with the manager. A farmer or two may
call, especially on a Friday, for the cash to pay the labourers next day,
and so the morning passes. In the afternoon one or more of the local
gentry or clergy may drive up or may not--it is a chance either way--and
as the hour draws near for closing some of the tradesmen come hurrying in
again. Then the day, so far as the public are concerned, is over.
To-morrow sees the same event repeated.

On a market-day there is a great bustle; men hustle in and out, with a
bluff disregard of conventional politeness, but with no intention of
rudeness. Through the open doors comes the lowing of cattle, and the
baaing of sheep; the farmers and dealers that crowd in and out bring with
them an odour of animals that exhales from their garments. The clerks are
now none too many, the long broad counter none too large; the resources of
the establishment are taxed to the utmost. The manager is there in person,
attending to the more important customers.

In the crush are many ladies who would find their business facilitated by
coming on a different day. But market-day is a tradition with all classes;
even the gentry appear in greater numbers. If you go forth into the
Market-place you will find it thronged with farmers. If you go into the
Corn Hall or Exchange, where the corndealers have their stands, and where
business in cereals and seeds is transacted; if you walk across to the
auction yard for cattle, or to the horse depository, where an auction of
horses is proceeding; everywhere you have to push your way through groups
of agriculturists. The hotels are full of them (the stable-yards full of
their various conveyances), and the restaurant, the latest innovation in
country towns, is equally fi