In the olden time it was the custom to have a stag hunt on the second day, and the “fair ball” is still, and has long been, kept up. It was formerly the practice for many tradesmen to keep open house during the fair, of which practice some of their customers took very liberal advantage. Calling on one shopkeeper to pay a small account, they and members of their family who accompanied them would enjoy a hearty meal, and after an hour or two in the fair would repeat the proceeding with another, and sometimes with a third. This has now been put a stop to by the reduction of profits, through the competition brought about by the advent of Co-operative Societies and Companies, and other causes. Not only have the glories of Barnstaple fair been celebrated in prose, but the poet has sung of them, and this sketch may be appropriately concluded by giving one of the compositions that used to be sung:— =BARNSTAPLE FAIR.= Oh! Devonshire’s a noble county, full of lovely views, miss! And full of gallant gentlemen, for you to pick and choose, miss! But search the towns all round about there’s nothing can compare, miss! In measurement of merriment, with Barnstaple Fair, miss! Then sing of Barum, merry town, and Barum’s merry Mayor too, I know no place in all the world old Barum to compare to! There’s nothing happens in the year but happens at our fair, sir! ’Tis then that everything abounds, that’s either new or rare, sir! The Misses make their start in life its gaieties to share, sir! And ladies look for beaux and balls to Barnstaple Fair, sir! Then sing of Barum, merry town, and Barum’s worthy Mayor too, I know no place in all the world old Barum to compare to! The little boys and girls at school their nicest clothes prepare, ma’am! To walk the streets and buy sweetmeats and gingerbread so rare, ma’am! Their prime delight’s to see the sights that ornament our square, ma’am! When Powell brings his spangled troop to Barnstaple Fair, ma’am! Then sing of Barum, merry town, and our indulgent Mayor too, I know no place in all the world old Barum to compare to! If milk be scarce though grass be plenty, don’t complain too soon, dame! For that will very often happen in the month of June, dame! Though cows run dry while grass runs high, you never need despair, dame! The cows will calve, and milk you’ll have, to Barnstaple Fair, dame! Then sing of Barum, wealthy town, and its productive Fair too, And drink “the corporation, and the head of it, the Mayor too.”