"Ranelagh-house, Tuesday the 9th of June, will be an Assembly for the benefit of the Middlesex Hospital. The doors will be open, and the concert begin, at the usual time. At ten o'clock a magnificent fire-work will be played off on the canal in the garden; and to conclude with a ball. "N. B. There will be no collection made for the Charity. Tickets half a guinea each, &c." I have in another place recommended the reader to visit Smithfield at eleven o'clock at night, in order to obtain a perfect knowledge of the _amusements_ substituted for a Fair. The facetious George Alexander Steevens wrote the following ludicrous but strictly just description of it about 1762: "Here was, first of all, crowds against other crowds driving, Like wind and tide meeting, each contrary striving; Shrill fiddling, sharp fighting, and shouting and shrieking, Fifes, trumpets, drums, bagpipes, and barrow-girls squeaking, Come, my rare round and sound, here's choice of fine ware, Though _all_ was not sound sold at _Bartelmew_ Fair. There was drolls, hornpipe-dancing, and showing of postures, With frying black-puddings, and opening of oysters; With salt-boxes, solo's, and gallery folks squawling; The tap-house guests roaring, and mouth-pieces bawling; Pimps, pawnbrokers, strollers, fat landladies, sailors, Bawds, baillies, jilts, jockeys, thieves, tumblers, and taylors: Here's Punch's whole play of the Gunpowder plot, Wild beasts all alive, and pease-pudding all hot, Fine sausages fried, and the black on the wire; The whole court of France, and nice pig at the fire; Here's the up-and-downs, who'll take a seat in the chair? Tho' there's more up-and-downs than at Bartelmew Fair. Here's Whittington's cat, and the tall dromedary, The chaise without horses, and Queen of Hungary; Here's the merry-go-rounds, 'Come, who rides? come, who rides?' Sir; Wine, beer, ale, and cakes, fire-eating besides, Sir. The fam'd learned dog, that can tell all his letters; And some men, as scholars, are not much his betters."