Our Little English Cousin

THE
Little Cousin Series

(TRADE MARK)
Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in
tint. Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover,
per volume, 60 cents
LIST OF TITLES
By Mary Hazelton Wade
(unless otherwise indicated)

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.

EDITH

	Our Little English Cousin By Blanche McManus Illustrated by The Author Boston L. C. Page & Company Publishers MDCCCCVII

Copyright, 1905
By L. C. Page & Company
(INCORPORATED)
All rights reserved
Published June, 1905
Fifth Impression, June, 1909

Introduction

The lives of Our Little English Cousins are not so widely different from our own in America. It is only the more ancient associations with which they are surrounded that changes their manners and customs.

Their speech is the same and their amusements and tasks are to a great extent quite similar.

Certain details of home life vary considerably, and when they "take their walks abroad," "Our Little English Cousins," as often as not, visit some ancient historic shrine from whose associations have been built up the great British nation.

Little English cousins and Little American cousins alike, however, would have the same affections for the same things were they but to change places, therefore things are not so very different after all.

What Washington is to America, London is to Britain; meaning in this case England, Ireland, and Scotland as well, for our little Scotch and Irish cousins by no means like one to talk or write of England alone when one really means Britain.

"Our Little English Cousin" lives in a less rigorous climate than that which prevails for the most part in America. Their winters are in general not so cold (though they are quite as long) and not usually so bright and sunny. The summers are by no means so hot as ours and are accordingly most delightful.

The open-air pleasures of our English cousins, while existent in our own country, are at least more general than with us, and tea out-of-doors, in the garden, or on the banks of the Thames is an institution which is quite unique, and accordingly, as a summer divertisement, is greatly in vogue.

The Associations which link America with England are many and important; indeed they are so numerous that it were futile to attempt to give place to any in this introductory note beyond recalling to the mind of little American cousins that the great Washington himself was of a well-known English family before they settled in America.

To-day, if the English are not emigrating to America to the extent that they formerly were, our American cousins are returning the visits, if only for pleasure or edification, in astonishingly growing numbers each year.

All this makes for a better understanding and appreciation of each other and cements the growing friendship of years, which in our progressive times is a good thing not to overlook.

"Our Little English Cousin," then, extends a cordial hand of welcome, not only to her cousins across the seas who annually make visits to her native land, but to the stay-at-homes as well, who have that pleasure in store for some future time.

Contents

List of Illustrations

Our Little English Cousin

CHAPTER I.

EDITH'S HOME ON THE THAMES

"Now it is really time to get ready, is it not, Miss Green?" exclaimed Edith, looking up at the clock for the twentieth time during the last half-hour, and breaking off in the middle of the list of English kings and queens which she was trying to commit to memory. Which king came after Henry III., in that far-away time, seemed a small matter compared to the outing which she and her governess had planned to enjoy on the river that lovely afternoon.

Miss Green smiled indulgently as she closed her book. "It does seem a shame to remain indoors a moment longer than one can help such a day as this. Well, I will see Betty about the tea-things and pack them in the basket while you are getting ready."

You may imagine it did not take Edith long to put away her books; then giving her good-natured governess a hug she skipped off for her hat and coat.

"There are Eleanor and Clarence waiting for us now," cried Edith, as she and Miss Green, who was carrying the tea-basket, crossed the gardens. Running over the lawn, which stretched down to the river, she greeted her two little playmates from the vicarage. All three were bubbling over with glee at the prospect of an outing this bright June afternoon upon the river Thames. They were to go up-stream to a pretty little nook, in a quiet "backwater," which was a favourite spot with them, and have a "gipsy" tea under the willows.

The children were soon seated on cushions in the neat little shallow punt. Towser, the big collie dog, was already in the boat, for he knew he was a welcome companion on these trips.

Miss Green, standing at one end, poled the boat gracefully through the water. This looks like an easy thing to do, but it takes a great deal of skill to handle a punt.

"Does not the river look gay?" said Eleanor. "There are lots of people out." The river indeed was covered with pleasure craft of all kinds. There is probably no stream in the world so given up to pleasure as is the Thames, which flows through the very heart of England; indeed it has been called the "River of Pleasure."

It took all Miss Green's skill to steer through the many boats filled with gay parties. Daintily fitted up rowboats with soft-cushioned seats, the ladies in their bright summer dresses, with parasols of gay colours; the men in white flannel suits and straw hats. There were many punts like their own. Also tiny sailboats, some of them with bright red or blue sails; while every now and then a crew of young men from one of the colleges sculled past them, practising for the forthcoming boat-race. All made way for these swift racing boats, for one of the unwritten rules of the river is that boat crews must not be interfered with while practising.

Occasionally our party in the punt would get the effect of a gentle wave from an automobile boat or a steam-launch as it rushed by.

In the midst of it all were to be seen the swans gliding in and out among the boats. The Thames swans are as well known as the river itself. They are very privileged birds and directly under the protection of the government itself. There are special keepers to look after them, and any person who injured a swan in any way would be punished. But no harm ever happens to them, for the lovely white birds are great pets with every one, and the children especially like nothing better than to feed them.

Along the banks, under the shade of overhanging trees, were merry boat-loads of family parties making a picnic of their afternoon tea, as our little party intended to do.

You must know that everybody in England takes what is called "five o'clock tea," and would no more think of going without their tea in the afternoon than their dinner.

Presently the punt glided behind a clump of trees. You would think it was going into some one's garden, but out it came into a quiet bit of water, a miniature bay quite apart from the main river. This is called a "backwater." Catching hold of a tree with the hook on the end of her pole, Miss Green brought the punt up against the bank under the overhanging willows, and the young people were quickly out and on shore.

Then the tea-basket was brought from the punt. "Now, Clarence," said Miss Green, "you fill the teakettle while the girls help me."

Their kettle was especially constructed for these occasions with a hollow space in the bottom into which fits a small spirit-lamp,—this so the wind cannot blow out the flame.

"My! we have got a jolly lot of cake; that's good," and Clarence looked very approvingly at the nice plum-cake and the Madeira cake, which is a sort of sponge cake with slices of preserved citron on top of it,—a favourite cake for teas.

In a few minutes the water boiled in spite of everybody watching it attentively, and Miss Green filled the teapot. Then they all gathered around the dainty cloth spread on the grass, and the slices of bread and butter, known as "cut bread and butter," and the lovely strawberry jam quickly disappeared.

"Why do we always eat more out-of-doors," said Edith, "than when we are indoors eating in the proper way? I suppose it is because we are doing it for fun that it seems different from tea in the schoolroom."

"Perhaps the fresh air has more to do with it than anything else," laughed Miss Green, as she cut them the sixth piece of cake all around.

"Now you rest, Miss Green, and we will pack up everything," said Eleanor.

"Yes, and let's wash up the tea-things. It will be fun," said Edith, "and Betty will be surprised."

So the little girls amused themselves with their housekeeping, while Clarence and Towser ran races up and down the greensward until it was time to return.

OLDHAM MANOR

The sun was setting when they pulled up at the steps of their boat-landing where Colonel and Mrs. Howard, Edith's parents, were sitting in comfortable wicker garden-chairs, waiting for them.

Oldham Manor, Edith's home, was a fine old house built in the "Tudor" style, of red brick with stone doorways and windows, and quaint, tall, ornamental chimneys, with the lower story entirely covered with ivy.

Colonel Howard was a retired army officer who had seen much service in far-away India. He had to leave the army on account of his health, and now devoted himself to his wife and two children, and his lovely home. Mrs. Howard herself was a handsome and stately woman, rather reserved in her manner, but devoted to her children.

Tom, Edith's brother, was at school at Eton College, so Edith had a double share of petting, and led a very happy existence with plenty of work and plenty of play. She had a pretty little room, with a little brass bed, and an old-fashioned chest of drawers for her clothes. The little dressing-table, which stood in front of one of the windows, was draped with pink-flowered muslin, and the window curtains were of the same material. The chairs were covered with a bright, pretty pink, green, and white chintz, and the carpet was pale green with pink roses.

From the window of this delightful room, one overlooked the rose-garden. Adjoining was the schoolroom, a big room where Miss Green and Edith spent much of their time.

Edith usually dressed quickly, for, when the weather was fine, she and her papa always took a walk around the gardens before breakfast. Colonel Howard was very proud of his roses, and the rose garden of the manor was quite famous; many of the rose-bushes were trained to form great arches over the walks.

Another hobby of Colonel Howard's was his fancy chickens and ducks, of which he had a great variety. Edith had her pet chickens, too, and she and her papa could never agree as to whose chickens were the finest, when they went to feed them in the morning.

Edith would run each morning into the breakfast-room, a bright-faced little girl with sparkling blue eyes and golden brown hair tied up with a pink ribbon and waving loosely over her shoulders—as all English girls wear their hair until they are quite young ladies. Her dress was very simply made, and around the neck was a pink ribbon—pink was her favourite colour—tied in a bow. There was a "good-morning kiss" for mamma, and Edith must help to fasten the rose in her hair, which Colonel Howard always brought his wife.

Edith had a good appetite for her breakfast of porridge and cream, milk, eggs and toast, or fish, or perhaps grilled kidneys and tomatoes, which is a favourite English breakfast dish and very good indeed. Always she finished with marmalade.

Breakfast over, then came the lessons in the schoolroom until one o'clock, when Edith and Miss Green had their dinner served to them here. After dinner she was free to walk or drive with her papa and mamma, or Miss Green, or play games with her little friends in the neighbourhood. Then for an hour in the afternoon Edith studied her lessons for the next day, curled up on the big green sofa near the window, while Miss Green read or sewed beside her, ready to help her out with a hard word. Finally she had tea with Miss Green in the schoolroom at six o'clock, and soon after this was ready for bed.

Thursday was a red-letter day for Edith, for in the afternoon she always took tea with mamma and papa in state, in the drawing-room. This was so that she should learn how to go through with it in the proper manner, which is a very important part of a little English girl's education. Mamma received her just as if she was a grown-up lady visitor, while Edith put on her real "company" manners, and Colonel and Mrs. Howard often could scarcely repress a smile at her great dignity when she began the conversation with, "It's a charming day, is it not." "I take two lumps of sugar only, thank you." Rainy afternoons she often worked on fancy articles for the bazaars held by the Children's League of Mercy. Edith was a member, and the money from the sales was given to help the very poor children in their neighbourhood. So the little girl's days passed pleasantly enough, as you may imagine.

CHAPTER II.

A DAY AT HAMPTON COURT

"No, Towser, you can't come with us; you know you will not be allowed to go into the palace, and what should we do with you then," said Edith, patting him on the head, as she closed the gate and left poor doggie looking wistfully after them.

Edith had been looking forward to a visit to Hampton Court for some time. Her mamma had promised that she could invite Eleanor and Clarence Whitworth and that Miss Green would take them all to spend a Saturday half-holiday, or rather a whole holiday, at this beautiful old palace, which was on the river, not very far distant from Oldham Manor.

Several Saturdays had proved disappointingly rainy, but to-day was all they could wish for, and after calling at the vicarage for Eleanor and Clarence, they went down the little village street which led to the river landing, where there was a sign, "Boats to let."

Miss Green intended to engage a waterman to row them up to the Court, as it was a rather long and tiresome pull.

The Thames watermen are quite an institution, and are one of the oldest of English guilds or societies. They are banded together for the mutual protection of their business, which is to hire out boats—and to row boats and the like. Each man wears a badge, and is very jealous of his rights. A new man who wishes to join their band must go through a long apprenticeship before he can become what is publicly known as a "Thames Waterman."

"Good morning, John," said Miss Green, to a bluff, good-natured man who lifted his cap to them. "Have you a good boat for us to-day? we want you to take us up to the Court."

"IN A FEW MINUTES THEY HAD LANDED"

"Yes, indeed, miss, one of the best of the lot." John was their favourite waterman, who often rowed them when the distances were too great for Miss Green.

It was a pretty row past the green lawns of handsome homes, and one or two small river villages, where the principal business is the letting of boats and of fishing-tackle.

John's sturdy strokes soon brought them in sight of the park belonging to Hampton Court, surrounded by a high wall past which the river winds for some distance. Soon they caught sight of the red brick towers of the palace itself, and its beautiful gardens, and in a few minutes they had landed near one of the small excursion steamers that ply between London and Hampton Court, on which so many folk take a charming day's excursion on the Thames.

There is also a little village at Hampton Court, as well as the palace, but one never pays much attention to it, except when one begins to get hungry, for it is mostly made up of little shops, that hang out signs on which is the one word, "Teas," which means one can get there their afternoon tea.

Our little party made straight for the big iron gates which lead into the entrance court. On one side are barracks where soldiers live, and before them rises the red brick lodge or gateway through which is the main entrance to the palace itself.

I fancy one often thinks of a palace as a great, tall, imposing building of many stories. Well, most palaces do cover a great deal of ground, but many of the English ones are not so very tall. This palace is only two stories high, with a sort of attic at the top. Another strange thing about these old-time palaces is that most of the rooms are very small according to our modern ideas, except for a few long rooms, called galleries.

"Let us go through the two courtyards into the gardens and sit on a bench under one of those old yew-trees, and I will tell you children something of the story of the palace; then you will enjoy seeing it much more," said Miss Green, as she led them into the lovely gardens where they could see the building to the best advantage. The children crowded around her as she began:

"It was built several hundred years ago by the great Cardinal Wolsey who was minister or councillor to King Henry VIII. Wolsey became a powerful favourite of the king, who loaded him with royal gifts. He became wealthy and proud, and built for himself many grand homes, until at last he founded this Hampton Court, which was to be the most splendid of them all. But the cardinal had become by this time such a power in the kingdom, and was so arrogant and wealthy that the king was jealous of him, fearing that the cardinal would become his rival.

"To counteract this, the cardinal presented his palace at Hampton Court to the king, and so it became a royal palace. But this did not prevent the cardinal's downfall.

"Until a hundred or more years ago this palace was a favourite home of the Royal Family, but now it is only a show-place for holiday-makers."

"I don't see how the king could have treated the poor cardinal badly after he gave him such a beautiful home," remarked Edith, as they entered the palace.

"Ah, well! perhaps he deserved it," said Miss Green, as they went up the grand stairway and through room after room filled with pictures, and some of the furniture of those old days.

They could see the beds on which had slept many royal persons. Around this furniture were drawn ropes so no one could touch it or sit upon the chairs. The floors were highly waxed, and in every room was a guardian or sort of policeman, who closely watched visitors to see that nothing was disturbed.

"Well, they did have a great number of rooms," said Eleanor, after they had walked through many bedchambers, anterooms, and reception-rooms.

"Yes," answered Miss Green, "they were necessary not only for the Royal Family itself, but for the many people who were always attached to the court.

"Here is the 'throne-room,'" she continued, "where the king or queen sat in that gilt chair which stands on a dais or platform raised several steps above the floor." Above the chair was a velvet canopy surmounted by a gilt crown. Usually the arms of England (the "Lion and the Unicorn") were embroidered in gold and coloured silks on the velvet background behind the throne. Here the kings and queens held their audiences, and saw those who wished to present some petition or ask some royal favour.

"This is one of the most splendid old-time 'banqueting-halls' in our country," said Miss Green, as they came into the great chamber with a high roof of great carved wood beams and windows of coloured glass. Around the walls were great stag heads, and over the entrance door was a gallery where the musicians played while guests ate dinner at the long tables. The guests sat on wooden benches or stools, while the persons of high rank occupied chairs at a table at the end of the hall, which was placed on a raised platform which separated them from those of inferior rank.

"Can't we see the big grape-vine now?" said Edith, as they left the palace itself.

Miss Green led the way through the rose-garden, and past Queen Mary's Bower, a shady and favourite walk of one of the queens, so shut in by trees that it looked like a green tunnel. "There is the vine-house," exclaimed Clarence, as they came to a long, low, glass house which covered the huge vine, nearly two hundred years old, the largest single vine in the world. The trunk looked like that of a small tree, and its branches, hanging thick with bunches of grapes, covered the glass roof. At various times its home had to be added to, and still the vine has to be constantly pruned to keep it within bounds.

"I should like to eat some of those grapes when they are ripe," said Eleanor, looking up at the clusters over her head.

"You would have to be one of the Royal Family to do that," Miss Green smilingly said. "They are all kept for the king's own use."

"Well, are you young people ready for dinner?" asked the governess, looking at her watch as they left the vine-house. "It is nearly one o'clock, so we had better have our dinner, and then we can spend the afternoon in the gardens and park."

"Afterward we can go through the Maze, Eleanor," cried Edith, as, holding each other by the hand, the little girls skipped through the garden paths.

"Yes, but dinner first, by all means," said Clarence, "and let us go to one of the places on the river, please, Miss Green, where we can watch the boats."

On the gallery of one of the inns that overlook the river they found a round table that would just accommodate their party. Here they could enjoy a fine view of the palace and the river, and a substantial meal at the same time.

"Now for the 'Maze,'" cried the young people, when they entered the gardens again. The "Maze" is an elaborate labyrinth, whose pattern is laid out in high-clipped hedges of box-trees. One can lose themselves for some time amid its tangle of paths before it is possible to reach the centre, and come back again to the starting-place.

"By paying a penny I can watch your efforts," said Miss Green, as she paid her penny to the guardian, and mounted a little platform which overlooks the tangle of paths. "I think I shall enjoy this more than rushing around through the hot sun," she said, smiling down on her charges.

Finding the right path through the Maze is one of the favourite amusements of the children when they visit Hampton Court, and our three young friends were soon rushing around laughing in the wildest excitement.

It took nearly an hour's fun before they were able to reach the centre and get out again, Clarence being rather crestfallen that the girls had beaten him out.

"Oh, we are warm," said Edith, as they ran up to Miss Green, panting and fanning their faces with their hats.

"Indeed you are. Come, and we will rest and cool off in the park. The chestnut-trees look lovely with their spikes of white flowers."

Under the great trees, groups of children were playing about, or having picnic lunches, or amusing themselves with the deer, which live in the park, and are so used to visitors that they are very tame, and will even eat out of one's hand.

"I should like to come here next Sunday; it will be 'Chestnut Sunday'" said Clarence, as they threw themselves on the soft grass.

"Oh," said Edith, "that is always one of the first Sundays in May."

"Yes," continued Clarence, "the first Sunday after the chestnut-trees come in full blossom."

Thousands of people come here from London and the surrounding country on that day, that they may drive through this long avenue that leads directly through the park to the palace and admire the display of blossoms on the great trees that line the avenue on both sides.

Clarence grew enthusiastic. "It's a jolly sight, I can tell you, to see vehicles of all kinds, from bicycles and coster's carts to big four-in-hand coaches and automobiles. There is such a jam on the avenue that they can only creep along; it's like a big picnic."

"Is it not nearly tea-time? We are so thirsty, Miss Green," said Eleanor, as the sun began to drop behind the trees. The little girls had amused themselves by making endless daisy chains, and decorating their hats with the "may" as they call the hawthorn-bloom, while Miss Green read to them from a story-book.

"Yes, we must not be too late in getting home; we will stop at one of the little tea-shops near the boat-landing."

It was a neat little cottage which they selected, covered with vines, with a small flower-garden in front. The pleasant-faced hostess soon brought in a big tea-tray covered with a dainty cloth on which was a big pot of tea, cut bread and butter, and delicious strawberries, such as only grow in England. "Nearly as big as my fist," declared Clarence, but this was perhaps putting it rather strongly, though each one made a big mouthful as the young folk ate them, dipping them first into sugar.

They sang songs as they rowed home, and the tunes were taken up by other boats full of young people out for the Saturday half-holiday.

"We have had such a lovely time; thank you so much, Miss Green," said the young Whitworths as they parted at their gate.

"It has been a nice day, and we will have some others, too, when Adelaide comes, won't we?" said Edith.

CHAPTER III.

A DRIVE TO RICHMOND AND KEW GARDENS

Adelaide Stamford was Edith's first cousin and lived in London. She was not as strong as Edith, and during the winter her mamma had taken her to Brighton, which is the great winter seaside resort. Although it is also a very fashionable place, many invalids go there to enjoy the warm sunshine. Adelaide was taken up and down the fine promenade in a bath chair, which is a kind of big baby-carriage which a man pulls, or pushes along. She also sat in the glass "shelters" along the sea front, which keep off the wind nicely, and are like small glass houses.

So Adelaide had become much stronger, but the smoky London fog had again made her rather pale and thin, and so she was coming to spend a few weeks with the Howards, to see if Surrey air would not be beneficial.

She was Edith's favourite cousin, and the little girls were nearly of the same age. Edith looked forward to having her share her lessons, and planned many pleasant drives together in their neighbourhood, which is one of the most beautiful and interesting in England.

"My dear, we must not only have roses in our garden, we must get some into your cheeks," said Colonel Howard, as he lifted a little pale-faced girl with dark hair and eyes out of the dog-cart which had brought her from the station.

"She must stay out-of-doors as much as possible, and on the river, and Edith will take her on some of her favourite drives, and we will soon have her looking as plump as our little girl," said her aunt as she kissed her.

Mrs. Howard then took Adelaide up to Edith's room, where another bed had been put up for her.

"Kate will arrange your things in their proper places," said Mrs. Howard, as the neat-capped maid came to take her coat and hat. "I must leave you now, we are very busy. Edith has probably told you that the 'Sunday-school treat' is to be held on our lawn this afternoon, so, when you have rested, come into the garden and help us amuse the little ones."

"A treat" in other words is a picnic, and often only an afternoon picnic, as in this case. The children of the neighbourhood had early gathered in the churchyard, and were marshalled by the vicar and their teachers into a procession.

Marching two by two, they came down the street, and through the big gates of the manor, where they quickly spread themselves in merry groups over the lawns. Soon everybody was in full swing for a good time; games were started, and Clarence with some of the older boys put up a cricket-pitch in one corner of the grounds. The croquet lawn was also well patronized.

Colonel Howard had generously arranged for a small steam-launch to take the children for short trips up the river and back again; this was perhaps more popular than anything else.

Meanwhile Mrs. Howard and Mrs. Whitworth superintended the setting of the tables on the grass under gay red and white awnings.

The summons to tea was welcome, and the children joyfully gathered around the well-filled tables. There were huge plates of sandwiches, cakes, buns, jam, and big strawberries. All the good things melted away so quickly that it kept the older folks running to bring more, while nobody stopped to count the cups of tea that each one stowed away.

There was a little lull after this, while they listened to a band of music placed under the trees.

Adelaide greatly enjoyed it; it was more of a novelty to her than her cousin, and she was much interested in helping feed the swans, who had evidently got wind of the entertainment and knew that their chances for food were good. A number of these graceful birds had gathered along the river bank, and the children were stuffing them with pieces of buns. There was one greedy old swan that amused them very much; he was always trying to peck the more timid ones away and gobble up everything himself, just like some greedy children we all have seen.

The twilight was closing in when the last band of young people left, singing songs, and waving their hats and handkerchiefs; all of them very grateful for the happy time they had enjoyed so much.

"Miss Green says if we are very good she will take us for a drive in the governess-cart to Richmond and Kew Gardens this afternoon," Edith confidentially whispered to Adelaide, as they went up to the schoolroom the next day. Lessons were learned as by magic that morning, and Tony and the cart were at the door early in the afternoon.

Tony was one of the dearest of ponies, and was almost as much of a playmate with the children as Towser.

"Look at Tony as we get in, Adelaide; he has the funniest little way of looking around at you." Sure enough, Tony was peering around at them as much as to say, "I'm watching you; aren't you almost ready to start?"

They halted a moment at the vicarage to arrange that Eleanor and Clarence should meet them at the bird-pond in Kew Gardens. Soon they were driving through the beautiful Richmond Park. Miss Green pointed out White Lodge, one of the many royal residences; a rather small, plain, white house in the centre of the park. "It was here," she continued, "that young Prince Edward, the eldest son of the Prince of Wales, who will some day be King of England, was born. His birthday was celebrated by a great dinner which was given by the late Queen Victoria to all the children of Richmond. Tables were set under the trees in the old park, at which hundreds of children feasted, and speeches were made in honour of the young prince. Afterward each child was given a mug, on which was a picture of the queen and the date, which they could always keep as a souvenir, or remembrance, of the day."

"Oh, yes, Miss Green," said Edith, "you remember that Betty's little sister has one of the mugs, and Betty once showed it to me."

"Look at the deer, Adelaide," said Edith, as she caught her cousin by the hand. "See, they want to cross the road, and are waiting for us to go past." Sure enough, there stood, watching the cart, a great herd of these graceful creatures, very erect, with their dainty heads crowned with big, branching horns. They were evidently undecided whether or not they had time enough to cross the road before the cart would reach them; then one made up his mind and darted across, another followed, and then the entire herd swept swiftly by, then turned again to look at the cart, as much as to say, "Well, we did it."

"Here is the famous view from Richmond Hill, known all over the world," said Miss Green, as she pulled up Tony for a few minutes, that the girls might admire the winding River Thames, far below them, lying like a silver ribbon between green meadows and wooded hills. "Authors and artists alike have helped to make this view celebrated," said Miss Green, "and that big building on the left is the famous 'Star and Garter' hotel. It used to be the fashion to drive down from London and lunch on its terrace, from which one gets a most beautiful view down the Thames valley."

Edith was trying to point out to Adelaide the tower of Windsor Castle, where the king and the Royal Family live when they are not in London. "We will go over there some day while you are with us, Adelaide."

"Miss Green," continued Edith, as the pony trotted down the long, narrow street into the town, "won't you please stop at the 'Maid of Honor' shop, so we can buy some cakes?"

"I can never get Edith past this place," laughed Miss Green, as she pulled up in front of an old-fashioned shop, painted green, with a big sign over the front: "The Original Maid of Honor Shop."

While the little girls make their purchases you might like to hear the story of these famous cakes.

It is said they were first made for King Henry VIII., by one of the Maids of Honor at his court, and this is why they are called "Maid of Honor" cakes. A Maid of Honor is not really a maid or a servant, but a lady who attends upon the queen—a companion.

Well, the king thought the cakes tasted so good that many more were made for him, and the recipe was kept safely guarded in a fine chest with a gold lock and key; but somehow it became known, and was handed down until it became the property of the present owner of the shop, who claims that his cakes are still made by the same recipe as those eaten by King Henry hundreds of years ago.

By this time the little girls were driving past the "Green." Every town and village in England has an open grass plot which is either called the "Green" or the "Common," which means that it is common property, and it is here that the young people play games.

"There is all that is left of Richmond Palace," said Miss Green, pointing to an ancient gateway with a part of a dwelling attached. "Once it was a favourite residence of the great Queen Elizabeth.

"Many great men lived during the reign of 'Good Queen Bess,' as she was called, but you must not forget the greatest of them all—Shakespeare."

"Oh, yes," said Edith, "papa and mamma are going this summer to visit the village where he lived, and they have promised to take me. What is the name of the place, Miss Green? I have forgotten it."

"Stratford-on-Avon, and you must never forget the name of the town where lived the greatest English poet, my dear," replied Miss Green.

"Did not a great many kings and queens live in Richmond, besides Queen Elizabeth?" asked Adelaide.

"Yes, it was a favourite home of royalty, and that is why it was called 'Royal Richmond,' and the town has always been proud of the numbers of great people who have lived here, poets and writers and painters as well as kings and queens.

"I will have the cart put up at one of the little inns near the big gates," said Miss Green, as they drove up to the entrance to Kew Gardens.

Soon our party were strolling over the soft grass and among the lovely flower-beds, for here people can walk and play over the grass as they like, for there are no horrid "Keep off the Grass" signs.

If you want to know what any plant or tree in the whole world looks like, you have only to come here and you will find a specimen of it, either growing out in the open, or in the museum, which makes these gardens of great value. They were begun first by a certain King George, whose palace is still standing in one corner of the gardens, and who afterward made it a present to the nation.

Our party made straight for the pond where they were to meet their little friends.

"There they are now," cried Edith, "and Clarence is feeding that funny old bird that follows everybody around."

"I have given this old fellow two buns already, and he is still begging for more," said Clarence, as the two little girls ran up.

It is a great treat for the children to watch the queer water-birds from all parts of the world whose homes are in and around this pond.

On Saturday afternoons especially, numbers of young people of all ages gather there at the hour when the birds are fed. The birds are petted and fed so much that they are very tame, and the gray gull that Clarence was talking about, follows every one about begging like a kitten or a dog. There are ducks of all kinds, and all colours, that scoot over the water, swallowing the unwary flies and waterbugs who stray in their path, and dive for the bits of cake and bread which are thrown to them by the children. There are beautiful red flamingos, and storks that stand on one leg with their heads under one wing, and all kinds of queer birds with long, stick-like legs. But the funniest of all are the big white pelicans.

"Do look at them," cried Adelaide, "they know their dinner is coming." The five pelicans had been huddled up in a bunch in one corner, with their eyes tight shut, one might think fast asleep. Just then the keeper came down to the water's edge with a big basket of fish. Such a flapping of wings! The pelicans were instantly wide-awake, and, rushing forward, crowded about the keeper, opening their enormously long beaks, to which is attached a kind of natural sack or bag which they use for holding their food until they can better masticate it.

As each one's share of the fish was tossed into its big mouth, it disappeared like lightning. Meanwhile, all the other birds, big and little, had rushed up demanding their share. Such "quacks" and "gowks" and "squeaks"! You never heard such a funny lot of voices. The greedy old gull hopped right under the keeper's feet, until he got the biggest fish of all, and dragged it off into a corner all by himself.

Our young people watched the birds for some time, then went through some of the big greenhouses full of palms, and all sorts of tropical plants, and finally drove back home through the quaint little village of Kew.

"In this churchyard is buried one of our most famous painters," said Miss Green, as they passed the quaint church which stands on one side of the Kew Green,—"Gainsborough, who was especially fond of painting portraits of beautiful women. But we must not stop longer, as it is growing late," she continued, so touching up Tony, they went along all in high spirits, though Adelaide confessed she did feel a bit tired, and both the little girls were quite ready for their tea when they reached the manor.

CHAPTER IV.

WITH TOM AT WINDSOR CASTLE AND ETON

"When do we start, papa, and which way are we to go, and are we to see Tom first, or the castle?" asked Edith, all in one breath, as soon as she had kissed her mamma and papa good morning in the breakfast-room.

"Oh, you little fidget!" said Colonel Howard, good-naturedly, "sit down and eat your breakfast and we will try and answer one question at a time. Now, which would you rather see first, Tom or the castle?"

"Tom, of course," cried Edith, without hesitation, for she and her brother were great chums, though she was only a little girl, while in her eyes, as well as in his own, Master Tom was quite a man.

"Well, then, Tom first, and we will take him to the castle with us. Though he has been there before, he will enjoy the day with us.

"We will drive along the river road, for that is the prettiest way, though the longest, and we will start as soon as mamma is ready. Now, miss, all of your questions are satisfactorily answered, and it only remains for you children not to keep us waiting."

There was no danger of that. The young people were in the carriage before Colonel and Mrs. Howard came down-stairs, and soon they were bowling along the shady road, the hawthorn hedges on either side perfuming the air with their white blossoms.

They passed through several quaint little riverside villages with queer little inns, where those who want to fish or boat on the river go for a lunch or tea, which they can enjoy on a gallery, or in a garden overlooking the water.

"There's Windsor Castle," cried Edith. "I knew it from the pictures; it is a real story-book castle." And, sure enough, high up over the trees rose the great gray towers and walls at whose very base flowed the Thames.

"There is one of the most historic spots on our river," said Colonel Howard, pointing to a small island covered with trees. "It does not look very important, but tradition says a great event took place there. Way back in the early history of our country the kings had such absolute power that they could do almost anything they liked, and if they were not good men this led them to oppress their subjects and take away their liberties. So the great barons of the country forced King John to give them their 'Charter,' on this little island, called Runnymede. All this is difficult for you little girls to understand, but some day you will read more about it in your history."

"You can see, Edith, over those meadows yonder, where Tom lives. That is Eton, and this is one of the prettiest views of the college," said Mrs. Howard.

In a few minutes they were among the old buildings of the most famous of boys' schools, and found Tom ready for them, full of enthusiasm at the prospect of a day off in company with his family.

The Howard family was a very devoted one, and no wonder they were proud of Tom. He was a fine, healthy, rosy-cheeked boy with frank, blue eyes and short-clipped brown hair. He had on a suit like that worn by all the Eton boys, which has now become the proper dress for English boys of certain ages, especially schoolboys. It consists of long gray trousers and a short black jacket, coming just to the waist, known as the "Eton jacket"; over this is a broad white collar, and they wear with this costume a high silk hat, just like the one your papa wears, except of course it is smaller.

"I wrote to you that I was in the 'eights' that is to row at Henley, papa; well, we are working hard to beat them. By Jove! we have got a strict coach; he is keeping the fellows up to the mark," and Tom talked on with enthusiasm about the boat-races at Henley-on-Thames, at which their crew of eight was to compete for one of the prizes known as "The Ladies' Plate."

As he talked, he led them through the colleges and into the chapel, pointing out everything to the little girls with a lofty air of proprietorship which greatly impressed them with his importance, and when he showed them the "playing fields" where cricket was going on, and spoke in an offhand manner of "our men," the little girls looked at him with great awe and admiration.

It was all new to Edith and Adelaide, so Tom took them through some of the old class-rooms, where many celebrated men had learned their lessons. The rough, wooden benches and desks had been hacked and cut up by the knives of schoolboys for many hundred years. It used to be the fashion for the boys to cut their names somewhere on the oak-panelled walls of their schoolrooms, and many names that have since become famous can be seen there to-day. The boys liked to do it all the more, because it was forbidden, but gradually it became the custom, and the proper thing to do.

After Tom had duly impressed the glories of his school upon his sister and cousin, the whole party set out for Windsor Castle, just across the river from Eton.

In a few minutes they were climbing the hill on which the castle stands, and the carriage stopped at the big entrance gate, on either side of which stands a sentry in a bright red coat and a great bearskin helmet on his head.

WINDSOR CASTLE

"Now, my dears, you are really inside the king's home," said Colonel Howard, as with some other visitors they followed the guide through the handsome rooms, with their elegant furniture and valuable pictures. From the windows was a fine view extending many miles over the great park which surrounds the castle.

"On certain days of the week," said Colonel Howard, "a band plays on the terrace below, and then the grounds and terrace are free to all who wish to come, while the Royal Family often sit at these windows and enjoy the music."

They also visited the beautiful chapel, where the king and his family attend service when they are at the castle.

Soon our party came to meet the carriage again outside the great gateway. "Drive to the 'White Swan,' John," said Colonel Howard, "we are going to lunch there."

"That's good," said Tom. "It's a jolly nice place; they will give us a good dinner. Look, papa," he continued, excitedly, "there is Prince Eddie and his brother in that carriage coming toward us. I knew they were staying at 'Frogmore House.'"

The two boy princes, manly-looking young boys, dressed in sailor suits, were chattering gaily with their tutor, who accompanied them, and smilingly returned the bows of Colonel Howard's party as they passed.

They are the two oldest sons of the Prince of Wales; they are fine-looking little fellows, and enjoy nothing better than their home life in the country, cycling around Windsor Park, or fishing and boating on the river.

Our little party enjoyed a bountiful dinner in the cool dining-room of the "White Swan Inn," with its dark, oak-panelled walls, and big sideboard, set out with fine old silver and china.

The solemn, smooth-faced old waiter deftly served them. First they had a delicious fried sole, and then the dish without which no English person thinks dinner is complete,—a big joint of good English roast beef, which as a matter of fact mostly comes from Scotland.

With the roast beef there are potatoes and vegetables. Afterward there was a pudding, for a real English dinner must always finish with pudding. Then follows cheese, which is eaten with salad, the salad being usually lettuce and eaten only with salt. Sometimes they have coffee after dinner, but the English are not great coffee drinkers. You must have found out by this time that they are much more fond of tea.

"Let's go for a row on the river," was the first suggestion after they had left the table and were seated in the garden of the inn, from Tom, who was eager to show his skill in handling the oars.

"I am sure your mother and I prefer to rest awhile; we are not so keen for exertion just after dinner," said Colonel Howard, "but you can take the two girls, only don't go too far, for we have a long ride before us."

So the young people enjoyed a half-hour's row; then Tom was driven back to his school, all promising to meet again at Henley.

It was the cool of the evening when John drove through the manor gates, and needless to say our two little girls slept that night like tops. Somehow this toy has the reputation of being a very sound sleeper. Can somebody explain why?

CHAPTER V.

LONDON—HYDE PARK AND WESTMINSTER ABBEY

Adelaide's visit to Oldham Manor was at an end, and Edith was to return with her to spend a week in London. You can imagine how excited she was at the thought of all she would see in the great city.

Adelaide was so much improved by her stay in the country that she seemed quite another little girl who waved good-bye to her good uncle and aunt as the train pulled out of the little railway station. Miss Green was to see them safely to the end of their journey and return again the same day.

"Does not London look smoky and dark?" exclaimed Edith, as their cab took them swiftly through the crowded streets.

"And this, too, is a very fair day for London," said Miss Green, "but here we are in Langham Gardens," as the cab turned into a square with a small park, or garden, in the centre, around which were substantial houses. Much of London is built around such little squares. Soon the cab stopped before a comfortable brick house of four stories with white stone trimmings.

In front of each window was what is called a window-garden, an ornamental box full of bright flowering plants. All the better class London dwellings have these window-gardens, which do so much toward brightening up the gloomy rows of houses. The front door was a rich green in colour and in the centre was a big brass knocker. A few hard raps brought the maid, and Adelaide was soon in her mother's arms, who was greatly pleased at seeing her looking so well.

"Take Edith to your room, my dear," said Mrs. Stamford, "and do not be long, for lunch will soon be ready."

Adelaide's room was a very nice one, but one could not see the flowers and river from its windows, as from Edith's in Surrey. They looked over endless roof-tops and smoking chimneys. Opening out of it was a sort of play-room and schoolroom combined. Here Adelaide had her lessons with her teacher, who came every day for that purpose.

"Oh, Fluff, lazy fellow, there you are," cried Adelaide, as a beautiful white Persian cat slowly uncurled himself from the depths of an armchair and came toward them with great deliberation, like the aristocratic pussy that he was. He knew his own value, and had evidently made up his mind that he would not show his little mistress how delighted he was to get her back again, for fear of compromising his dignity.

"Is not he a beauty, Edith?" said Adelaide, stroking his long, silky, white fur. Fluff, having at last given in, mounted to her shoulder, and settled there with a soft murmur of purrs.

"He comes of a fine family, I can tell you, and at the last Royal Cat Show, at the Crystal Palace, he took a gold medal; there it is hanging up in the cabinet. There is no use trying to keep it tied on Fluff, he only tries to lick it off all the time; besides, it would spoil his beautiful ruff."

The two little girls had lunch with Mrs. Stamford, for Adelaide had all her meals in the big dining-room, except tea, which she had with her teacher, Miss Winton, in the schoolroom.

Mrs. Stamford was a widow and Adelaide her only child, so she and her mother were much together and were real companions to each other.

"How would you and Edith like to go with me to Hyde Park this afternoon?" asked Mrs. Stamford. "The king is to open the new Royal Hospital, and as the procession passes through the park you will be able to see it well."

"How splendid! We will really see the king and queen, aunty? Do let's go," and Edith jumped up and down in her chair with excitement.

"Be ready, then, so that we can leave directly after lunch, for he is to pass Albert Gate at three o'clock, and we must be early to get a place."

The park looked gayer than usual this afternoon, with plenty of well-dressed people in fine carriages drawn by well-groomed horses and driven by pompous coachmen; some of the handsomest carriages had coachmen and footmen in bright-coloured liveries and powdered wigs. A carriage like this you may be sure held some grand person. All along the edge of the drives were rows of chairs; toward these Mrs. Stamford made her way and selected three in the front row.

Presently one of the men who have the seats in charge came up, and Mrs. Stamford paid him a penny for the use of each seat.

The crowd grew more dense and the big policemen were now keeping the driveway clear.

Edith had noticed in the two chairs next to her a little girl, apparently but little older than herself, and a boy evidently younger. They had been talking eagerly together, and Edith could tell that everything was new and strange to them.

Presently the little girl, who had been glancing at Edith, leaned over and said, eagerly: "They will soon be here, won't they? I so much want to see a real live king and queen. You know we don't have kings and queens in our country. We are Americans. My mamma's name is Mrs. White and I am Carrie White and Henry is my youngest brother. I have two brothers at home in New York older than myself, and we are staying at the Hotel Cecil."

The little girl poured out her information rapidly, before Edith had time to say a word.

"We have a 'President' in our country; he drives around in processions, too, but he does not wear a crown like your king," chimed in the little boy. "I wish he was going to have it on to-day, but I suppose he only puts it on for grand occasions."

"Yes," said Adelaide, joining in the conversation, "he wears it when he goes to open Parliament. I saw that procession once. It was a fine sight, better than this will be, because he and the queen rode in the great gilded coach that cost ever so much money. They both had on their crowns and rich red robes trimmed with ermine, and they smiled and bowed as they drove along. The coach was drawn by eight beautiful cream-coloured horses with harness of red and gold, and each horse was led by a groom dressed in a red uniform with a powdered wig and black velvet cap. Behind were two footmen, also in red and gold, and on either side of the carriage walked the 'Beefeaters,' as the Yeomen of the Guard are called."

"Oh, those are the men who take care of the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London. We saw them," broke in the little boy.

"Yes," hurriedly went on Adelaide, "and before the coach rode a detachment of the Royal Horse Guards. Oh, they are splendid! And behind rode some more Horse Guards; then followed lots of carriages."

Mrs. Stamford had been listening to the children with some amusement.

"Are you alone, my dears?" she finally asked the little American girl.

"Oh, yes, Henry and I came all by ourselves from the hotel. Poor mamma had such a bad headache she could not come, but she did not want us to be disappointed, so she got the hotel porter to put us on the right 'bus, and he told the conductor where to let us off, and all we have got to do when we want to go back is to ask the big policeman at the gate to put us on the same 'bus again."

"Oh," gasped Edith in amazement, "aren't you afraid?"

She could not imagine Adelaide and herself crossing several miles of the busiest part of London without Mrs. Stamford, the governess, or a maid accompanying them.

"Why, no, of course not," laughed Henry. "It is rather hard to find the right 'bus, because they have got so many names all over them, but a policeman will always set you right; they are right good fellows, your policemen; they take a lot of trouble for one."

"Here they come," some one called out, as cheering was heard, and the children jumped up on their chairs.

First came a number of mounted policemen, and then many carriages containing great people, and members of the Royal Family. Then the Royal Horse Guards, the finest regiment of soldiers in the kingdom, whose duty is always to escort the king. They did make a fine showing in their white trousers and red coats, their glittering breastplates and helmets, swords clanking by their sides, and sitting so straight on their black horses.

"They are fine," said Henry. "I wish Billy could see them."

"Hush, here is the king," said Adelaide.

An open carriage passed swiftly. On the high box sat the coachman and footman in the royal liveries of a bright red, powdered wigs on their heads, and on the lapel of the coachman's coat was a huge rosette. At the back of the carriage stood two footmen, also in the red livery.

King Edward VII. was dressed in a field-marshal's uniform, and kept his hand in salute a greater part of the time.

Queen Alexandra was seated on his right, and looked very sweet and pretty in a violet-coloured dress and hat to match. She carried in her hand a big bouquet of flowers. In a moment they had passed, followed by more soldiers. The children had waved their handkerchiefs, and Henry and Carrie cheered with the rest.

"We are going in your direction, and I will see you safely on your 'bus, or perhaps you had better take a cab," said Adelaide's mother, to their new friends, as they walked to the big gateway of the park.

"Thank you, ma'am," said the little American children, "but we would rather go on top of the 'bus; it is more fun, and we can see more."

"Good-bye," the young Americans shouted, as they climbed on their 'bus. "You must come and see us when you come to New York," called out Carrie, as with smiles and waving hands the clumsy 'bus rolled them away.

"What would you like to show Edith to-day?" asked Mrs. Stamford of her little daughter, as they sat at the breakfast-table the next morning. "You will have a holiday from your lessons while Edith is here, so Miss Winton will go with you to-day."

"Of course she must see Westminster Abbey, and the Tower of London, and Madame Tussaud's, and the Zoo," said Adelaide, in one breath.

"Not all in one day," laughed her mother. "Suppose you go to the Abbey this morning and drive with me this afternoon to Kensington Palace. Then see the Tower to-morrow."

The girls were soon ready. "Let us walk, Miss Winton," said Adelaide, as they crossed the gardens into the busy street. "There is so much we can show Edith on the way to the Abbey. See, Edith, there is Buckingham Palace, where the king lives when he is in London."

It did not look as handsome as one imagines a palace ought to look; it seemed rather dark and gloomy, though it was a big building.

"You can tell that the king is there because the royal standard is flying over the roof," explained Adelaide. "That is the Royal Family's own flag. It is made of the three coat-of-arms of the three kingdoms which compose Great Britain,—the three golden lions of England, the one rampant red lion of Scotland, and the gold harp of Ireland. It is different, you will see, from the ordinary flag of England, called the 'Union Jack,' and more elaborate and beautiful," said Miss Winton. "The design of the 'Union Jack' is made of the three crosses of the three ancient patron saints of Great Britain,—St. George of England, St. Andrew of Scotland, and St. Patrick of Ireland."

They crossed St. James's Park, which is in front of the palace, and a few minutes' walk brought them to the beautiful church of Westminster Abbey, which is the pride of every Englishman.

Here, in front of the great altar, the English kings and queens have been crowned, and many of them lie buried in the chapels which surround the choir.

Edith saw the coronation chair, which is very old, and on which the sovereigns sit when the crown is placed on their heads by the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Many monuments of good and great people, as well as of kings and queens, fill the Abbey to overflowing; for Englishmen consider it a great honour to be buried under the stone floor of the Abbey.

But perhaps the most interesting part is what is called the "Poets' Corner," where most of the great English poets are either buried, or have monuments erected to their memory.