The greatest thrill of all and the one longest remembered in the hamlet, was provided by the visit of a cheap-jack about half-way through the decade. One autumn evening, just before dusk, he arrived with his cartload of crockery and tin ware and set out his stock on the grass by the roadside before a back-cloth painted with icebergs and penguins and polar bears. Soon he had his naphtha lamps flaring and was clashing his basins together like bells and calling: “Come buy! Come buy!”

It was the first visit of a cheap-jack to the hamlet and there was great excitement. Men, women, and children rushed from the houses and crowded around in the circle of light to listen to his patter and admire his wares. And what bargains he had! The tea-service decorated with fat, full-blown pink roses: twenty-one pieces and not a flaw in any one of them. The Queen had purchased its fellow set for Buckingham Palace, it appeared. The teapots, the trays, the nests of dishes and basins, and the set of bedroom china which made every one blush when he selected the most intimate utensil to rap with his knuckles to show it rang true.

“Two bob!” he shouted. “Only two bob for this handsome set of jugs. Here’s one for your beer and one for your milk and another in case you break one of the other two. Nobody willing to speculate? Then what about this here set of trays, straight from Japan and the peonies hand-painted; or this lot of basins, exact replicas of the one the Princess of Wales supped her gruel from when Prince George was born. Why damme, they cost me more n’r that. I could get twice the price I’m asking in Banbury tomorrow; but I’ll give ’em to you, for you can’t call it selling, because I like your faces and me load’s heavy for me ‘oss. Alarming bargains! Tremendous sacrifices! Come buy! Come buy!”

But there were scarcely any offers. A woman here and there would give threepence for a large pudding-basin or sixpence for a tin saucepan. The children’s mother bought a penny nutmeg-grater and a set of wooden spoons for cooking; the innkeeper’s wife ran to a dozen tumblers and a ball of string; then there was a long pause during which the vendor kept up a continual stream of jokes and anecdotes which sent his audience into fits of laughter. Once he broke into song:

There was a man in his garden walked

And cut his throat with a lump of chalk;

His wife, she knew not what she did,

She strangled herself with the saucepan lid.

There was a man and a fine young fellow

Who poisoned himself with an umbrella.

Even Joey in his cradle shot himself dead with a silver ladle.

When you hear this horrible tale

It makes your faces all turn pale,

Your eyes go green, you’re overcome,