Suddenly Gabriel saw a fire in the distance. Dismissing the thought, since the woman under discussion seemed to be the owner of a large farm, he slipped out of the wagon unseen. He eavesdropped on the conversation of the two men in front and conjectured that the vain woman whom they were discussing was Bathsheba. After dark he wakened to find the wagon in motion. After going about four miles in that direction, he saw a haywagon without horses beside the road and lay down in it for a rest. Hearing that this town lay beyond Weatherbury, Gabriel thought of Bathsheba and resolved to go to the fair via Weatherbury. There was another fair in Shottsford the next day. "Here was an opportunity for putting his dearly bought wisdom into practice." His tunes were so well received that soon he had earned enough pence to feel more secure. Watching the evening's merriment, Gabriel felt his flute in his pocket. Now, ironically, bailiffs were in demand yet prospective employers seemed to edge away when Gabriel said he'd lost his farm. Toward the end of the day, Gabriel went to have a shepherd's crook fashioned, and he also exchanged his overcoat for a regulation smock. His answer always was, - 'I am looking for a place myself - a bailiff's.'" One young fellow's "superiority was marked enough to lead several ruddy peasants standing by to speak to him inquiringly, as to a farmer, and to use 'Sir' as a finishing word. A few hundred hearty workers stood about, each showing the symbol of his trade: carters, a bit of whipcord on their hats thatchers, straw shepherds, their crooks. Casterbridge was holding its February hiring fair.
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