was splendid, and nature, art,
and the weather appeared confederated for effect. On the lofty heights
arose the stately place, looking down with placid grandeur on the full
foliage of the venerable trees, over the beautiful gardens, the spouting
fountains, the rushing cascades, and the gay and countless myriads that
swarmed the avenues, while the circling river flowed calmly on, without
a ripple on its surface, as if in ridicule of the sound of trumpets, the
clang of cymbals, and the beat of drums, that rent the air around.

Along the broad avenue were ranged shows of every description--wild
beasts, giants, jugglers, tumblers, mountebanks, and monsters, while in
spots sheltered from the sun by lofty trees were dancing-places,
swings, roundabouts, archery-butts, pistol-ranges, ball-kicking and
head-thumping places, montagnes-Suisses, all the concomitants of fairs
and fetes--beating "Bartlemy Fair," as Mr. Jorrocks candidly confessed,
"all to nothing."

The chance of meeting the Countess Benvolio in such a multitude was very
remote indeed, but, to tell the truth, Mr. Jorrocks never once thought
of her, until having eat a couple of cold fowls and drank a bottle of
porter, at an English booth, he felt in his pocket for his purse, and
remembered it was in her keeping. Mr. Stubbs, however, settled the
account, and in high glee Mr. Jorrocks resumed his peregrinations,
visiting first one show, then another, shooting with pea-guns, then
dancing a quadrille, until he was brought up short before a splendid
green-and-gold roundabout, whose magic circle contained two lions, two
swans, two black horses, a tiger, and a giraffe. "Let's have a ride,"
said he, jumping on to one of the black horses and adjusting the
stirrups to his length. The party was soon made up, and as the last
comer crossed his tiger, the engine was propelled by the boys in the
centre, and away they went at Derby pace. In six rounds Mr. Jorrocks
lost his head, turned completely giddy, and bellowed out to them to
stop. They took no heed--all the rest were used to it--and after divers
yells and ineffectual efforts to dismount, he fell to the ground like a
sack. The machine was in full work at the time, and swept round three or
four times before they could stop it. At last Mr. Stubbs got to him,
and a pitiable plight he was in. He had fallen on his head, broken his
feather, crushed his chapeau bras, lost off his mustachios, was as pale
as death, and very sick. Fortuna