When the artificer had left, the Major gave full vent to his feelings, and strutted about the room inwardly gloating over the surprise that the ladies and old Sandboys would feel on beholding him firmly on his legs once more. Then he wondered however he could have gone hobbling about on that spindle of a leg so long, with the iron tip thumping, as he went along, like a blind man’s stick on the ground; and he promised himself that immediately after dinner he would arrange with the Sandboys to be off, the first thing in the morning, to the Exhibition; for he longed to show himself there with his new leg quite as much as his Cumberland friends wished to look at the wonders of the Show.
When the Sandboys did behold the Major’s new leg, they were one and all as much astonished as he expected or wished them to be, and the evening was spent in jests at his previous appearance, and in mirthful remembrances of the accident which had brought about the change. Even the fatalistic Mr. Sandboys was obliged to declare that Destiny, for once, had done them a good turn, and before retiring to rest, he had grown to look upon the past adventure as a propitious omen, foretelling their speedy attainment of the object they had so repeatedly sought.
Nor could Elcy herself help speaking in terms of admiration at the Major’s improved appearance, declaring, that had she not seen him with his previous wooden substitute, she should never have been aware of his loss of limb—all of which was so extremely gratifying to the old soldier, that he felt more delighted with the girl than ever.
Major Oldschool got but little rest that night, for he kept thinking over and over again of all that had occurred,—muttering to himself, half unconsciously, when he did doze off, what Elcy had said in admiration of the change that had taken place in him. Nor were the slumbers of Elcy and Jobby more profound; they both ran over in their minds the several wonders they had read of in the Exhibition, and longed for the daylight that was to reveal to them all the marvels of the Crystal Palace.
Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys themselves were up with the sparrows the next morning, alive with the conviction that at last the eventful day which was to consummate their hopes and wishes had really arrived; and in a short time they would be back again to Cumberland in their quiet mountain home, talking over the many wonders they had seen, and laughing with their neighbours over the perplexing adventures they had gone through.
When the party were assembled, Major Oldschool propounded the order of the day’s amusements, as he had mentally arranged them previously to rising that morning. He had crammed the day, he said, as full of sights and shows as he possibly could. He proposed that they should first, as it was a lovely morning, go by the steamer up to the New Houses of Parliament, and having viewed them, and looked in at the Courts of Law, they were to step over to the Abbey and take a peep at the Poet’s Corner. Then they could have a beautiful stroll through the parks, past Buckingham Palace, and along Constitution Hill, to the Wellington Statue; after which they could just drop in at the St. George’s Gallery, and see the splendid Diorama of the Holy Land, and Cumming’s African Hunter’s Exhibition; which done, they could step along to the Chinese Collection, and look at the lady who had only two inches to stand upon, instead of a foot; and after that, just to fortify them against the fatigues of the day, they could drop into M. Mouflet’s restaurant, and have a nice little luncheon, for the Major said it was whispered that the tepid ices, and soupy jellies, and Bath buns—strongly resembling their hard and dry relations the Bath bricks—which were to be had at the Exhibition, could not be included among the chef-d’œuvres of the Crystal Palace. After luncheon, Major Oldschool told them they would be ready for a good four-hours’ feast of their eyes at the Grand Show; and this over, he proposed they should retire to M. Soyer’s Imposium and have a nice little dinner of cold meat and pickles in the Baronial Hall, at the small charge of half-a-guinea a head; and in the evening, he said, they could take a cab, and drive to Leicester-square, and have a turn round the Great Globe, and be nearly broiled by the gas up among the Polar Regions; next, they might step across to M. Cantelo’s Incubator, and see the process of hatching chickens, which was remarkably curious, for he had been informed by one of the first physiologists of the age that the young brood invariably evinced an instinctive attachment to their maternal boiler, striving to nestle themselves under their parent kettle immediately it began to sing. And as a conclusion to the day’s entertainments, they might all pop in at the Adelphi, and having passed an hour or two there, they might then be able to get to Vauxhall just in time to see the horsemanship and fireworks; and there, after a cold fowl and lobster salad, by way of a little supper, they could return home ready and thankful for bed.
The Sandboys were all delighted with the Major’s programme for the day’s festivities, and having swallowed a hasty breakfast, and decked themselves out in their holiday costume, they once more descended to the parlour, ready to start for the Great Sight, with Cursty fidgeting at their heels, in inward fear of something or other occurring that would once more delay their departure.
At length, however, the whole party were fairly off; and as Mr. Sandboys stood on the door-step, wondering within himself how they had succeeded in getting even that far towards their destination, he said thoughtfully to the Major, as he held him by the button-hole, while Jobby, Elcy, and Mrs. Sandboys went tripping along lightly up the street, “I’ll tell thee what I’ll do, Major——”
“Yes, yes,” answered his friend, “but tell me as we go, or we shall miss the ladies.”
Cursty paid little or no attention to the Major’s impatience, but still musing, said, “I’ll wager thee a crown, man, that we never get inside t’ Girt Exhibition to-day.”