“Shall we go in among the tombs of the kings?” Captain Griffith asked at length.
“Not on my account, sir,” Kit replied; “I don’t want to spoil the effect of these great people by looking at a lot of mere kings.”
“You mustn’t mind my young friend’s disparagement of your kings, Mr. Watkins,” the Captain laughed; “he is a thorough young American, and we don’t raise kings over there to any great extent. But it will suit me not to spend any more time here. What do you say to having a look at the town from the top of Primrose Hill, with just a glance into the British Museum as we pass it?”
Both “the boys,” as the Captain called them, were pleased with this proposition, and he called another hansom to take them first to the British Museum. There Mr. Watkins took pains to show them the interesting parts, and Kit was particularly interested in the mummies and their curious casings. What he wanted most to see, however, was the great library, one of the largest in the world; and he was disappointed when told that it was impossible to get into the reading-room without a ticket, which could be had only with a deal of red tape.
“I don’t believe they would let the Prince of Wales in without a ticket,” the young clerk said, “so I am sure we have no chance.”
There was no disappointment, however, about the view from the summit of Primrose Hill. They drove around through Hampstead to reach the hill from the rear, and when they stood on its very top the whole of London seemed to lie at their feet.
“Ah, it is a grand sight!” Mr. Watkins exclaimed. “We Londoners never tire of looking at it, though it is an old story with us. You see what a deep valley the city lies in, with the Thames running through the middle of it. The hills on the other side of the valley are in Surrey and Kent, two of our English counties. And do you see that blazing fire near the top of the Surrey Hills? It looks like fire, but that is the Crystal Palace with the sun shining upon it.”
“Yes, it is a grand sight,” the Captain said. “And you must not forget, Silburn, that you are looking at this moment at the homes of more people than you can see from any other spot on earth. Here are six millions of people living between us and those opposite hills—more people than there are in the kingdom of Belgium, and nearly as many as there are in the whole of Canada. You never saw such a view as this before.”
“No, sir, I never did,” Kit admitted; “it is a great sight; but I can’t help wondering why they built such a big city down in such a hollow. No wonder they have such thick fogs here. I suppose you’ll laugh at me for it, but I think our hills out in Fairfield County are much handsomer. I should rather live in Huntington than in London.”
“Well, I like to hear you tell the truth about it,” the Captain laughed. “Some Americans who come over here think they must praise everything because it is the fashion to do so. These Europeans like to boast of their own countries, but they seem to immigrate to America pretty fast. Eh, how is that, Mr. Watkins?”