"LONDON!" cried Swanny, putting on the brakes, and sure enough that's where they were. Jimmieboy knew it in a minute, because there was a lady coming out of a shop preceded by a band of music, and wearing a big crown on her head, whom he recognized at once as the great and good Queen, whose pictures he had often seen in his story books.
"Howdy do, little boy," said the Queen, as her eye rested on Jimmieboy.
"I'm very well, thank you, Ma'am," said Jimmieboy, holding out his hand for Her Majesty to shake.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I'm sliding until breakfast is ready," he replied.
"Until breakfast is ready?" she cried. "Why, what time do you have breakfast?"
"Eight o'clock, so's papa can catch the 8:30 train, Ma'am," said Jimmieboy.
"But—it is now nearly one o'clock!" said the Queen.
"That's all right, Your Roily Highnishness," said Swanny. "This is an American boy and he breakfasts on the American plan. It isn't eight o'clock yet where he lives."