Jeremy.

Come off that.

You've got to go home." He looked down and saw his Uncle Samuel.
IV It was all over; he knew at once that it was all over.
As he slipped down from his dear horse he gave the glossy dark mane one last pat; then, with a little sigh, he found his feet, stumbled over the wooden steps and was at his uncle's side.
Uncle Samuel looked queer enough with a squashy black hat, a black cloak flung over his shoulders, and a large cherry-wood pipe in his mouth.
Jeremy looked up at him defiantly.
"Well," said Uncle Samuel sarcastically.

"It's nothing to you, I suppose, that the town-crier is at this moment ringing his bell for you up and down the Market Place ?" "Does father know ?" Jeremy asked quickly.
"He does," answered Uncle Samuel.
Jeremy cast one last look around the place; the merry-go-round was engaged once more upon its wild course, the horses rising and falling, the golden woman clashing the cymbals, the minstrel striking, with his dead eyes fixed upon space, his harp.

All about men were shouting; the noise of the coconut stores, of the circus, of the band, of the hucksters and the charlatans, the crying of children, the laughter of women--all the noise of the Fair bathed Jeremy up to his forehead.
He swam in it for the last time.