Every month, like clockwork, they set up shop. Traders hauling truckloads of treasures and trash, livestock and salvage, heirlooms and handicrafts. Their tables and tents cover over 100 acres just blocks from the Van Zandt County Courthouse, and during the first weekend of each month the small county seat magically transforms into the biggest open-air bazaar in Texas.

Whether you're looking for handmade boots or wooden fruit boxes from the 20s, you can generally find them under a tarp-covered table here in Canton. Discontinued action figures, vintage blacksmith's equipment, Alsatian doilies and tarnished women's golf trophies -- it's all here if you have the time to walk the grounds.

The event is officially called the First Monday Trade Days, and during its monthly three-day run, Canton, Texas (population 2,945) plays host to about 100,000 guests that assemble to roam one of the nation's largest flea markets.

First Monday usually draws a sizable number of its shoppers from the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex (which lies about forty miles west of Canton), but also lures regulars from neighboring states (Louisiana, Arkansas, and Oklahoma), and eager customers from the far-flung nine corners of Texas, and all points beyond.

First held in the 1850s, Canton's First Monday started as an informal trading session that coincided with the county's monthly circuit court schedule. Residents of rural Van Zandt County gathered to buy, sell, and trade tools, animals, and just about anything else one could think of in a relaxed atmosphere near the center of town.

In the intervening 140 years, the monthly Trade Days have grown beyond epic proportions -- the market's active stalls now number nearly 6,000 -- but the relaxed atmosphere of the busy fairgrounds still reigns. Tarp-covered tables can contain just about anything you can think of (and a few items you couldn't have possibly considered). Turn-of-the-century layer piano rolls? "Heroes of the Cuban Revolution" trading cards? Herbal salves guaranteed to cure stress? Each vendor has his/her own niche.

Enthusiastic customers -- from spangly-eyed Dallas socialites to huge families from Texarkana -- peruse the acres of secondhand merchandise and strut around carrying their day's purchases and munching on ever-present festival foods (turkey legs, funnel cakes, and just about every other snack that can be impaled on a stick). Around sundown, the masses begin to file out, usually with a mild sunburn and armloads of unexpected treasures.

After three intense days of shopping, haggling, and innumerable horse trades, Canton resumes its slower pace. At least for another two weeks anyway -- until the city gears up for the next First Monday.