The fireworks, which were to have been let off at nine o’clock, were, owing to the light night, postponed till eleven, and were very noisy and effective, and “One o’clock having arrived, the people separated in a quiet, orderly manner, but it was not till a very late hour that the fair was quite cleared of visitors. Like all such scenes, some irregularities were observable, but on the whole, we never, at any time or in any place, saw a crowd so orderly disposed. No accidents of any importance, we believe, occurred during the day in the fair. Fears were, at one time, entertained that some of the crowd might have sustained injury from the fall of the rocket sticks and other fireworks, and a troop of horse was suggested as a proper means of keeping them at a proper distance from the ground. The excellent arrangements of the police, however, rendered such a step unnecessary; and, although the crowd advanced until within a yard or two of the ground, forcing their way through the _cheveaux de frise_, we believe no serious injury was inflicted on any person.” The fair was, at the solicitation of Mr. Hawes, M.P. for Lambeth, permitted to be held for two days, the Coronation Day, and that following--but it was further extended for two more days. The area allotted to it comprised nearly one-third of the park, extending from near the margin of the Serpentine, to within a short distance of Grosvenor Gate. Of course, the next day’s fair was not so thronged as that on Coronation Day, still, “By three o’clock a vast number of people were in the parks, and thousands were hourly arriving, but the fair was not crowded. At the time just stated, a heavy thunderstorm came on, in the first instance accompanied by hail, which lasted nearly an hour. To those who were in the fair, the drenching rain was a most unwelcome visitor. Some of the unlucky holiday makers who had ventured in the vertical roundabouts, were in a woful plight; the rain was pelting on them while they were dangling in the air, and the men to whom the machines belonged coolly got under shelter till the worst part of the storm was over, utterly regardless of their patrons aloft, several of whom, at the risk of their necks, slid down the beam to _terra firma_, and good, stout exhortations soon relieved their aerial aquatic companions. The storm was a godsend, in more senses than one, to the victualling booths, for more was disposed of in the shape of ham, beef and stout during its continuance than, perhaps, would have been if the good things were to be given away in fine weather. People dined whether they were in want of that meal or not, and, no doubt, took credit for their patronage.