Zigzag Journeys in Europe Part 27

"It was the plague time in London, so the gala days were omitted there; but the new queen had some magnificent receptions at Burleigh-on-the-hill, the residence of the king's favorite, the Duke of Buckingham.

[Ill.u.s.tration: QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA.]

"There was one reception which the duke gave to the royal bride and bridegroom that was a surprise and delight. It was a banquet; the tables were sumptuous and splendid, and on one of them was a very large pie,--as large as that is supposed to be in which the four-and-twenty blackbirds of nursery-rhyme fame are said to have been concealed. The pie excited wonder, but the guests all knew that it was some

"'Dainty dish To set before the king.'

"The banquet pa.s.sed gayly, and the time came to serve the wonderful pie. The crust was being removed, when instead of four-and-twenty blackbirds flying out, up popped a little man. He was a chipper little fellow, yet very polite, and was armed _cap-a-pie_.

"This was the first introduction of Jeffrey Hudson to the English king and queen. The pie had been purposely constructed to hold the little fellow, who, when the d.u.c.h.ess made an incision in his castle of paste, s.h.i.+fted his situation until sufficient room was made for his appearance.

"The queen expressing herself greatly pleased with his person and manners, the d.u.c.h.ess presented him to her.

"This dwarf became very famous in the court of the queen."

The third day in London was given to the boys as their own. They were allowed by Master Lewis to go to such places as best suited their tastes. The prudent teacher had adopted this plan before, believing that the boys needed it to teach them self-reliance.

"Where will you go to-day?" asked Frank Gray of Tommy.

"Punch-and-Judy hunting," said Tommy. "The streets of London are full of exhibitions; the queerest performances you ever saw. I have been wis.h.i.+ng some time for a chance to see sights for myself. Will you go with me?"

"Punch-and-Judy hunting?" said Frank, contemptuously. "No; I am going to make an excursion to Cambridge."

"Remember," said Master Lewis, who had heard Tommy's remark, "that London is a wilderness of streets. You must not wander far from any princ.i.p.al street. Never lose sight of the cabs and omnibuses."

"I feel perfectly sure that I shall need no other help than the cabman's in finding my way back. I have taken ten s.h.i.+llings in my purse in case of an emergency."

"Keep your purse in your pocket wherever you find yourself," said Master Lewis. "Punch-and-Judy crowds have not the credit of being the most honest people."

Tommy found the hunting for street performances indeed alluring. Every court and alley seemed alive with the most remarkable entertainments a boy could witness.

[Ill.u.s.tration: STREET AMUs.e.m.e.nTS.]

He first met three grotesque musicians who had gathered around them an audience of admiring house-maids, dilatory market-people, and unkempt children. But the hat for contributions was pa.s.sed so soon after he joined himself to the music-loving company that he at once left for another performance where the call for money might not be so pressing.

A fiddler with three performing dogs, that were bedecked with hats and ruffles, quite exceeded in dramatic interest the former exhibition.

But the fiddler, too, had immediate need of money, and Tommy remembered Master Lewis's caution about the purse, and pa.s.sed on to a public place that seemed quite alive with groups of people gathered around curious sights and entertainments.

The pastimes here took a scientific turn. Chief among these street showmen rose the tall head of a middle-aged gentleman--"the professor"--who administered the "galvanic grip."

"Has fast has yer cured, gentlemen, pa.s.s right along, pa.s.s right along, and give others a chance. 'Ave you han hache or a pain? I say, 'ave you han hache or a pain? Cure ye right hup, right hup hin a minute. I'll tell you what, it is astonis.h.i.+ng, gentlemen, what cures science will perform."

[Ill.u.s.tration: STREET AMUs.e.m.e.nTS.]

At this point some one not schooled in the mysteries of science received a very liberal dose of the "magnetic grip," and doubled his body with an "O!" that seemed to be shot out of him, when the crowd laughed and moved on.

You pay your five or ten pence and are presented with the handles forming the terminations of the electric wire: you grasp these as tight as you can, one in either hand, while the galvanist grinds away at the machine.

When a hundred or more eyes are levelled upon you he suddenly increases the motion in a manner that leaves no doubt in your mind that that man has magnetism about him, whether he be a "professor" or not. Of course your rheumatism at once disappears: it would do the same had you fallen from the roof of a house.

Tommy had a strong inclination to be "cured" by the "professor of galvanism," but he conscientiously recalled Master Lewis's advice about the purse.

A man with a wonderfully bedecked performing monkey was leaving the square, and, as a sort of testimony to the attraction of his exhibition, a crowd of boys and girls were following him. Tommy wished to see a performance that had evidently excited so much interest, and he allowed himself to be borne along after the man in the juvenile tide. After pa.s.sing through several streets, the performer stopped in an open court, but for some reason was ordered away. Tommy found himself left almost alone in an antique-looking place, where there were in sight neither omnibuses nor cabs.

"Which is the way to Regent Street?" asked Tommy of a sad-looking little girl.

"Dunno," said Sad Eyes; "'ave ye got a penny?"

"What for?"

"For tellin' ye."

Tommy made other inquiries, but received about as definite information as at first, and each person followed the unsatisfactory answer with, "'Ave ye a penny?" as though it was worth that trifling amount to open one's mouth.

An honest-looking house-wife, without bonnet or shawl, came marching along the street with an air of friendly interest.

"Will you direct me to a street where I can find a hack?" asked Tommy.

"A what?"

"A cab."

"I guess yer lost, ar'n't ye?"

"If you will be so kind as to direct me to Regent Street or Oxford Street, or Pall Mall, I will pay you."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'AVE YOU GOT A PENNY?"]

Tommy felt in his pocket for his purse. It was _not_ there.

"Give me yer hand, little boy," said the benevolent-looking dame.

The two walked on through several streets, when the woman said,--

"This street will take you to Oxford Street. 'Ave you got a penny?"

"No," said Tommy; "I have lost it."

"Oh, you blackguard--"

Tommy did not stop to hear any figurative language, but found his way to Oxford Street as quickly as possible, and took with him to the hotel so deep a sense of humiliation that he did not relate the misadventure and loss to his companions.

In the evening of the boys' "own" day, George Howe and Leander Towle arrived unexpectedly at the hotel.

"We have come," said George, "to bid you good-by."

"Why good-by?" asked Master Lewis.