[112] I cannot learn in what year the duration of this fair was shortened; but I should suppose from the following circumstance, very soon afterwards. This print was published in 1733, and on the 24th of June 1735 the Court of Aldermen came to a resolution touching Bartholomew Fair, "that the same shall not exceed Bartholomew eve, Bartholomew day, and the day after; and that during that time nothing but stalls and booths shall be erected for the sale of goods, wares, and merchandizes, and no acting be permitted." [113] A Mr. Banckes, who a few years afterwards published some rhymes on this print, asserts, "that the performance at the booth, on the sign of which is written, _The Fall of Bajazet_, is the droll of Fair Rosamond." From the dresses, etc., I should imagine this ingenious gentleman is wrong. He also observes, "that young Louis XV., King of France, his queen, children, prime minister, etc., were this year exhibited in Smithfield and the Borough at very reasonable prices, to spectators of all degrees." Our artist, however, had forgot himself in regard to the matter of which these great personages were made, the whole town having been informed by their master of the ceremonies that they were of a composition far exceeding wax. The same writer goes on to inform us: "There Yeates and Pinchbeck change the scene To slight of hand, and clock machine; First numerous eggs are laid, and then, The pregnant bag brings forth a hen," etc. From the above lines, I should suppose that the late Mr. Pinchbeck, with his wonderful and surprising piece of mechanism the Panopticon, was at this fair; though he frequently spoke of one of his brothers, "who," he said, "was a showman, and who once gave a very large sum for an elephant, and took a room at Southwark Fair, with an intention of exhibiting it; but the passage to this room," added he, "was so narrow, that though my poor brother 'got the beast into it, a'never could get un out on't; a' stuck in the middle on't and died!' So, sir, you sees my poor brother lost all his money. Ah! he was a most unfortunate dog in everything he took in hand! and so was I, God knows." _Cætera desunt._ [114] The late Lord Sandwich, not very eminent for his reverence of the clerical habit, being once in a company where there were a number of clergymen, offered, in a whisper, to lay a considerable wager with the gentleman who sat next him, that among the ten parsons there was not one Prayer-book. The wager was accepted, and a mock dispute gave him occasion to ask for a Prayer-book to decide it. They had not one.--He soon after privately offered to lay another wager with the same gentleman, that among the ten parsons there was half a score corkscrews. This also was accepted; and the butler being previously instructed, coming into the room with a bottle of claret and a broken corkscrew, requested any gentleman to lend him one. Every priest who was present had a corkscrew in his pocket!