&quot;WHAT d&#39;ye lack? What d&#39;ye lack? Here&#39;s Flemish cloth. Here&#39;s&mdash;&quot;<br />&quot;What d&#39;ye lack?&quot; screamed a louder voice. &quot;Here&#39;s Sheffield knives.&quot; But the cries of both pedlars were drowned in the increasing din, for this was the first day of Oxford Autumn Fair, and the students from the different colleges were pouring into the market-place, some to buy cloth for winter doublets, or knives, or books, while others came for the mere fun, and, after purchasing a few cakes or wastrel bread for their midday meal, pushed and jostled and chaffed the crowd, and were cuffed and joked in turn with merry laughter. But all at once a cry arose above the general din of pedlars and buyers. &quot;A Greek! a Greek!&quot; was shouted, and then another answering cry of defiance rang out, &quot;A Trojan! a Trojan!&quot; while, as if by magic, sticks were suddenly flourished, and angry words of defiance were bandied about, and the wrathful cry, &quot;A Greek! a Greek!&quot; resounded from all points, to be drowned the next moment in a louder shout, &quot;A Trojan! a Trojan!&quot; and then the fight began.<br />The pedlars ceased to shout, and gathered their wares closer on the stalls, and the townspeople sought refuge in tents or any place of shelter at hand, for pedlars and people alike would have a sorry time of it during the fray. So they drew closer together for mutual protection, and left the more open spaces for the combatants, who used sticks and missiles against each other without mercy, Trojans beating Greeks, and Greeks belabouring Trojans.