[CHAPTER VII]
The Queen's Jubilee
IT was the morning of the 21st of June. Bert had risen almost as soon as it was light, and, having made very special ablutions ere he donned the ragged garments, which had anything but a festive appearance, he was going to supply himself with a goodly number of the papers and programmes for which he hoped to find a ready sale that day. But ere he started, he stood for a moment at the area railings, and looked down into the sailor's room. Early as it was, Mr. Corney was astir. Bert saw him busy brushing his boots, with Cetywayo perched on his left shoulder, making the work more difficult, though it went on briskly notwithstanding, to the accompaniment of one of the sailor's favourite hymns.
Mr. Corney ceased singing when he caught sight of the boy.
"Hullo!" he cried. "So you're up betimes?"
"And so are you," returned the boy. "Are you going to see the Jubilee, Mr. Corney?"
"Ay, I'm going to see what I can see. Such a day will never come again in my life. I mean to have a look at Queen Victoria, anyway. It's years and years since I last sighted her. It was in London too—the first time that ever I came to London from Scotland."
"From Scotland!" exclaimed Bert, in surprise. "Are you Scotch, then, Mr. Corney?"
"Ay, I'm a Scotchman," he replied.
"How strange I never thought of that!" said Bert. "Now you say so, I notice that you speak very much like Mrs. Kay."