A sham princess

by Eglanton Thorne

He could write, after a fashion, but it was an accomplishment he never practised out of school hours, and he had not written a letter in his life. He began to long for the summer to pass, for he believed that in the autumn Prin would come back to him.

"When will the summer be over?" he asked Mrs. Kay one day.

"Over!" she repeated. "Why, it's hardly begun yet. This is only the beginning of June, though it's hot enough for August. You are in a hurry."

Bert sighed. It was of no use to be in a hurry. He could not make the days move faster.

That June was a memorable one in the life of London. It was the June of 1887. Already every one was talking of the magnificence with which the Queen's Jubilee was to be celebrated. Even amongst the poorest dwellers in the metropolis it was a subject of absorbing interest. Most persons meant to see something of the splendour, and many hoped to turn the occasion to good account for themselves.

Bert eagerly gleaned all the information he could on the subject. He likened as people talked of the decorations, the illuminations, the grand stands for the spectators, the horses and carriages, the royal personages who were to appear, and all the pomp and show which were to mark the occasion. The thought of it excited and bewildered him. If only Prin were with him, what a time they would have! The Princess would know what to do. She would manage to see everything. No one was more clever than the Princess in pushing her way to the front and securing the best possible position when there was anything to be seen or gained. Bert was profoundly conscious of his inferiority to her in this respect.

Another new interest had come into Bert's life, and shared, with the Jubilee, his thoughts. This was the landlady's new lodger. He took possession of the room in the area three days after Prin's departure. He was an old sailor, and earned his living by bill-sticking and kindred occupations of a somewhat precarious nature. Apparently he was poor, as were all the inhabitants of that street; but his poverty was not, like that of most of the dwellers there, caused by drink. Watching the new lodger with a boy's keen curiosity, which lets nothing escape it, Bert soon observed that he never entered any of the public-houses in the neighbourhood, and that he drank nothing stronger than tea or ginger-beer. This was enough to distinguish him from every other man with whom Bert was acquainted.

Though he had brought nothing with him to the room that could be called furniture, the man had a few possessions on which he seemed to set great value. Among these was a great black cat, between which and his master there seemed to be a perfect understanding, and which was evidently very dear to him. Bert had never seen so fine a cat. The cats belonging to that street were a poor, half-starved race, with the mean and treacherous habits fostered by ill-treatment. This was a noble animal, with a coat as black as jet and as glossy as satin. He was supremely conscious of his superiority, and bore himself with much dignity. Nor would he suffer any familiarity; for when Bert once ventured to touch him, the cat instantly arched his back, spat fiercely, and showed a formidable set of claws. But with his master he was very different. Bert, peering down from the street between the railings, noted how the cat would spring on the man's shoulder and rub his head lovingly against his cheek. And whatever his master was doing, the cat was sure to be close beside him, and evidently he shared all his meals.

The stranger also possessed several books, and from what Bert saw, he judged him to be fond of reading. There was one book, a somewhat bulky, well-worn book, which was constantly in his hands. He would sit reading this by the open window with his cat perched on his shoulder, and the noises of the street did not seem to disturb him, nor did he appear aware of the little boy who stood so often by the railings, furtively watching his every movement.

Like most sailors, this man was very cleanly in his habits. Bert was amazed to see how clean he made his room, scrubbing the floor and polishing the window till they looked as Bert had never seen them look. Then he pasted clean paper over the soiled and torn wall-paper, and put up a bright picture here and there, and did a little carpentering where it was necessary.