As the people compose much the largest and best part of these shows, the reform must begin with them. Two-thirds of them go to a Fair with no desire to learn therefrom--no belief that they can there be taught anything. Of course, not seeking, they do not find. If they could but realize that a Farmer's Fair might and should teach farmers somewhat that would serve them in their vocation, a great point would be gained. But they go in quest of entertainment, and find this mainly in horse-racing. Of all human opportunities for instruction in humility and self-depreciation, the average public speaker's is the best. He hurries to a place where he has been told that his presence and utterance are earnestly and generally desired--perhaps to find that his invitation came from an insignificant and odious handful, who had some private ax to grind so repugnant to the great majority that they refuse to countenance the procedure, no matter how great the temptation. Even where there is no such feud, many, having satiated their curiosity by a long stare at him, walk whistling off, without waiting or wishing to hear him. But the speaker at a Fair must compete with a thousand counter-attractions, the least of them far more popular and winning than _he_ can hope to be. He is heard, so far as he is heard at all, in presence of and competition with all the bellowing bulls, braying, jacks, and squealing stallions, in the county; if he holds, nevertheless, a quarter of the crowd, he does well: but let two jockeys start a buggy-race around the convenient track, and the last auditor shuts his ears and runs off to enjoy the spectacle. Decidedly, I insist that a Fair-ground is poorly adapted to the diffusion of Agricultural knowledge--that the people present acquire very little information there, even when they get all they want. What is needed to render our annual Fairs useful and instructive far beyond precedent, I sum up as follows: