Rain, rain, rain How mercilessly it fell on the Fair-field that Sunday afternoon Every moment the pools increased and the mud became thicker. How dismal the fair looked then On Saturday evening it had been brilliantly lighted with rows of flaring naphtha-lights; and the grand shows, in the most aristocratic part of the field, had been illuminated with crosses, stars, anchors, and all manner of devices. But there were no lights now; there was nothing to cast a halo round the dirty, weather-stained tents and the dingy caravans. Yet, in spite of this, and in spite of the rain, a crowd of Sunday idlers lingered about the fair, looking with great interest at the half-covered whirligigs and bicycles, peeping curiously into the deserted shows, and making many schemes for further enjoyment on the morrow, when the fair was once more to be in its glory.