The Children's Portion Part 5

"Until this morning," continued Charlie, "after breakfast, when papa said, 'Boys, how would you like a trip to Europe with your mother and me?'"

"At first we thought he was joking," again interrupted eager little Selwyn, "because his eyes twinkled just as they do when he is telling a joke."

"But he wasn't," resumed his brother, "and the long and short of the matter is that we are all--papa, mamma, sister Agatha, Selwyn, and I--to sail in the Majestic, June 17, so we've only about a week more to wait."

"Oh! oh! it's too splendid for anything!" cried Selwyn, clapping his hands in delight and giving the hammock a sudden impetus, which set it swaying rapidly. "We're to spend some time with Uncle Geoffrey Barrington--you know, Ned, Rex's father--and we're to see all the sights of 'famous London town'--the Houses of Parliament, the Zoo, Westminster Abbey, and the dear old Tower! Just think of it, Ned, papa's going to show us the very cells in which Lady Jane Grey and Sir Walter Raleigh were shut up! Oh, don't I wish you were going, too!"

"Wouldn't it be splendid!" said Charlie, throwing his arm across Ned's shoulders.

"Wouldn't it!" echoed Ned, ruefully. "I wonder when our turn will come; soon, I hope. I shall miss you fellows awfully."

"Never mind, Ned, we'll write to you," cried both boys, warmly, "and tell you all about everything."

The next week was full of pleasant excitement for Charlie and Selwyn.

They left school a few days before it closed that they might help mamma and sister Agatha, who were very busy getting things into what papa called "leaving order." There was a great deal to do, but at last everything was accomplished, the steamer trunks had been packed, and some last good-byes spoken. Fritz and the rabbits had been given into Ned's keeping with many injunctions and cautions. Carefully wrapped in cloths, the boys had placed their bicycles in the seclusion which a garret granted. b.a.l.l.s, tennis rackets, boxes of pet tools, favorite books, everything, in fact, had been thought of and cared for, and at last the eventful day of sailing arrived.

A number of friends came to the city to see the Kingsleys off. They sat in the saloon of the big steamer with Mrs. Kingsley and her daughter, while the boys, under papa's care, remained on the dock for a while, deeply interested in their unusual surroundings. They were almost wild with excitement, which not even the prospect of parting with Ned could quiet, and it is not much to be wondered at, there was so much going on.

The long covered dock was crowded with men, women, and children, nearly all of whom were talking at the same time. Large wagons were unloading; trunks, boxes and steamer-chairs stood about, which the steamer "hands" were carrying up the gangway as rapidly as possible; huge cases, burlap-covered bundles, barrels and boxes were being lowered into the hold by means of a derrick; men were shouting, children crying, horses champing, and in the midst of the confusion loving last words were being spoken.

When papa joined the grown people in the saloon, Charlie, Selwyn, and Ned made a tour of the steamer. Of course they were careful not to get in the way of the busy sailors, but they found lots to see without doing that. First, wraps and hand-satchels were deposited in their state-rooms, which were directly opposite each other, and the state-rooms thoroughly investigated, each boy climbing into the upper berths "to see how it felt." Then they visited the kitchen, saw the enormous tea and coffee pots, and the deep, round s.h.i.+ning pans in which the food was cooked. But they did not stay here long, as it was nearly dinner time, and everybody was very busy. Next came the engine-room, which completely fascinated them with its many wheels and rods and bolts, all s.h.i.+ning like new silver and gold.

From there they went on deck, clambered up little flights of steps as steep as ladders and as slippery as gla.s.s; walked about the upper deck, and managed to see a great deal in fifteen or twenty minutes. By the time they returned to the gangway all the baggage and merchandise had been taken on board. A man in a blue coat with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, and a cap with a gilt band around it, called out in a loud voice, "All on sh.o.r.e!" and then came last good-byes. Smiles and laughter vanished, tears and sobs took their places. "Good-bye!" "G.o.d bless you!" "Bon voyage!" "Don't forget to write!" was heard on every side. Mamma and sister Agatha shed a few tears; even papa was seen to take off his gla.s.ses several times to wipe the moisture which would collect on them.

Of course, Charlie, Selwyn, and Ned wouldn't cry, that was "too babyish;" but they had to wink very hard at one time to avert such a disgrace, and just at the last, when no one was looking, they threw dignity to the winds, and heartily kissed each other good-bye.

"Write just as soon as you get over," cried Ned, as he ran down the gangway.

"We will, indeed we will!" the boys answered, eagerly. Then the gangway was drawn on board, the engine began to move, and the big s.h.i.+p steamed away from the pier in fine style, with flags flying and handkerchiefs fluttering.

Mrs. Kingsley was confined to her berth for nearly all of the voyage, but the rest of the family remained in excellent health and spirits, and the boys thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

When about three days out the s.h.i.+p pa.s.sed near enough to an iceberg for the pa.s.sengers to distinguish distinctly its castle-like outline, and to feel the chill it gave to the air.

Our two boys were such courteous, kindly little gentlemen that all who came in contact with them liked them, and returned to them the same measure that they gave. The captain even took them on the "bridge," a favor which was not accorded to any other boy or girl on board. And what with visiting the engine-room, waiting on mamma and sister Agatha, walking and talking with papa, sitting in their steamer-chairs, and paying proper attention to the good things which were served four or five times a day, Charlie and Selwyn found that the time fairly flew away. Selwyn had brought "An American Boy in London" to read aloud to Charlie, but there were so many other interesting things to occupy their attention that only one chapter was accomplished.

On the afternoon of the seventh day after leaving New York, the Majestic steamed up to the Liverpool dock, and a few hours later the Kingsleys found themselves comfortably settled in a railroad carriage en route for London. It was late when they arrived in the great metropolis, and every one was glad enough to get to the hotel and to rest as quickly as possible.

Early the next morning Uncle Geoffrey Barrington came to carry off the entire family to his big house in Portland Place. Here he declared they should remain during their stay in London, and as he had a charming wife and grown-up daughter, who devoted themselves to Mrs.

Kingsley and sister Agatha, and a son about Charlie's age, who was full of fun and friendliness, all parties found themselves well satisfied with the arrangement.

Uncle Geof was one of the judges of the Queen's Bench, and a very busy man, so he could not always go about with his American relatives; but Dr. Kingsley was well acquainted with London, and therefore able to escort his party to all the places of interest. I only wish I had time to tell you of all the delightful trips they took, and all the interesting things they saw in this fascinating old city. Visits to the Tower, the Houses of Parliament, where they heard "Big Ben" strike the hour--and Westminster Abbey with its ill.u.s.trious dead; excursions to Windsor and the Crystal Palace; sails down the Thames, and dinners and teas at Richmond and Kew Gardens, driving home by moonlight! How the boys did enjoy it all, and what long letters went home to America addressed to Master Edward Petry!

All this sight-seeing took up many days; three weeks slipped by before anybody realized it, and Dr. Kingsley was talking of a trip to the Continent, when a little incident occurred of which I must tell you.

Rex and his American cousins had become the best of friends. He knew all about their pretty home in Orange, about Ned and the rabbits, Fritz, the bicycling, and the tennis playing, while they in their turn took the deepest interest in his country and Eton experiences. They took "bus" rides together, and played jokes on the pompous footman, whom Charlie had nicknamed the "S. C." (Superb Creature).

One morning Rex and our two boys went to Justice Barrington's chambers.

There they expected to find Dr. Kingsley, but when they arrived only Jarvis, the solemn-faced old servitor, met them. He showed them into the inner room and left them to their own devices, saying that "his luds.h.i.+p and the reverend doctor" would, no doubt, soon be in.

The room was very dark; three sides were covered with uninteresting-looking law books, and after gazing out of the window, which overlooked a quiet little church-yard where the monuments and headstones were falling into decay, the three boys were at a loss what to do with themselves. Charlie and Selwyn would have liked a walk about the neighborhood, but Reginald demurred. "It's a horrid bore being shut up here," he admitted frankly, "but papa might return while we were out, and I'm not sure that he would like to find us away. I wish I could think of some way to amuse you. Oh, I know--we were talking about barristers' robes the other day; I'll show you papa's gown and wig. I know where Jarvis keeps them. Wouldn't you like to see them?"

"Indeed we should," responded the American boys. So, after hunting for the key, Rex opened what he called a "cupboard" (though Charlie and Selwyn thought it a closet), where hung a long black silk robe, very similar in style to those worn by our bishops in America. This he brought out; next, from a flat wooden box, which looked very old and black, he drew a large, white, curly wig. The boys looked at these with eager interest. "These are like what are worn in the Houses of Parliament," said Charlie. "What a funny idea to wear such a dress."

"I think it's a very nice idea," Rex answered, quickly. "I a.s.sure you the judges and the barristers look very imposing in their robes and wigs."

"I expect to be a lawyer one of these days; wouldn't I astonish the American public if I appeared in such a costume?" said Charlie, laughing. "I wonder how I'd look in it?"

"Try it on and see," suggested Rex.

"Oh, do, do, Charlie! it'll be such fun!" pleaded Selwyn. So, nothing loth, Charlie slipped on the long black silk robe, then Rex and Selwyn arranged the thin white muslin bands at his throat, and settled the big white wig on his head. His soft, dark hair was brushed well off his face so that not a lock escaped from beneath the wig, and when he put on a pair of Uncle Geof's spectacles, which lay conveniently near, the boys were convulsed with laughter at his appearance.

"Good-day, your 'luds.h.i.+p,'" said Rex, with a mocking bow; "will your 'luds.h.i.+p' hold court to-day?"

"Yes, let's have court and try a prisoner," cried Charlie, who began to feel rather proud of his unusual appearance. "You don't mind, do you, Rex?"

"Why, no! I think it'll be no end of fun," was the merry reply. "One of us could be the prisoner, and the other the barrister who defends him. I'd better be the barrister, because I know more about English law than Selwyn does. And the furniture'll have to be the other counsel and the gentlemen of the jury. Sit over there, Charlie, near that railing, and we'll make believe it's the bar. The only trouble is the barrister will have no gown and wig. Isn't it a pity?"

"Let's take the table cover," suggested Selwyn, which was immediately acted upon. With their combined efforts, amid much laughter, it was draped about Rex's shoulders in a fas.h.i.+on very nearly approaching the graceful style of a North American Indian's blanket. A Russian bath towel, which they also found in the closet, was arranged on his head for a wig; then Selwyn was placed behind a chair which was supposed to be the prisoner's box, the judge took his place, and court opened.

The ceremony differed from any previously known in judicial experience, and bursts of merry laughter disturbed the dignity of the learned judge and counsel, to say nothing of the prisoner.

"The prisoner at the bar, your 'luds.h.i.+p,'" began the counsel, striving to steady his voice, "has stolen a--a--a--what shall I say you have stolen?" addressing Selwyn in a stage whisper.

"Tom, Tom, the piper's son, Stole a pig, And away did run; The pig was eat, And Tom was beat, And Tom went roaring Down the street,"

sang the prisoner, in a sweet little voice.

"Your 'luds.h.i.+p,' singing is contempt of court; you will please fine the prisoner at the bar," said the counsel, regardless of the fact that the prisoner was supposed to be his client.

"Silence, both of you!" cried the judge, with impartial justice, rapping his desk sharply with a bra.s.s paper-cutter. "Now, Mr.

Barrister, state the case." Then, in an aside, "Wasn't that well said?"

"The prisoner has stolen a pig, your 'luds.h.i.+p,'" said the counsel. "He admits it, but as the animal has been eaten--"

"And the prisoner has been beaten," put in the incorrigible Selwyn.

"And the prisoner is a stranger in a strange land," continued Rex, ignoring the irrelevant remark, "a most n.o.ble and learned American--ahem!--what sentence, your 'luds.h.i.+p,' shall be pa.s.sed upon him?"

"Hum, hum!" said his "luds.h.i.+p," resting his cheek on his hand meditatively, trying to a.s.sume the expression which he had seen sometimes on papa's face when he and Selwyn were under consideration for some childish offence.

"The court waits, your 'luds.h.i.+p,'" remarked the counsel, throwing a paper ball at the judge.

"Silence!" again shouted the judge, rapping vigorously. "The sentence is this: the prisoner shall stand on his head for two seconds, then recite a piece of poetry, and then--in the course of a week--leave the country."

"Your 'luds.h.i.+p' will please sign the sentence and we will submit it to the jury," suggested the learned counsel, who, as you will perceive, had rather peculiar ideas about court formula.

"What shall I sign?" asked his "luds.h.i.+p."