tside, were arriving and departing by several other
noble gateways that pierced the royal enclosure.

Poor little Tom, in his rags, approached, and was moving slowly and
timidly past the sentinels, with a beating heart and a rising hope, when
all at once he caught sight through the golden bars of a spectacle that
almost made him shout for joy. Within was a comely boy, tanned and brown
with sturdy outdoor sports and exercises, whose clothing was all of
lovely silks and satins, shining with jewels; at his hip a little
jewelled sword and dagger; dainty buskins on his feet, with red heels;
and on his head a jaunty crimson cap, with drooping plumes fastened with
a great sparkling gem. Several gorgeous gentlemen stood near--his
servants, without a doubt. Oh! he was a prince--a prince, a living
prince, a real prince--without the shadow of a question; and the prayer
of the pauper-boy's heart was answered at last.

Tom's breath came quick and short with excitement, and his eyes grew big
with wonder and delight. Everything gave way in his mind instantly to
one desire: that was to get close to the prince, and have a good,
devouring look at him. Before he knew what he was about, he had his face
against the gate-bars. The next instant one of the soldiers snatched him
rudely away, and sent him spinning among the gaping crowd of country
gawks and London idlers. The soldier said,--

"Mind thy manners, thou young beggar!"

The crowd jeered and laughed; but the young prince sprang to the gate
with his face flushed, and his eyes flashing with indignation, and cried
out,--

"How dar'st thou use a poor lad like that? How dar'st thou use the King
my father's meanest subject so? Open the gates, and let him in!"

You should have seen that fickle crowd snatch off their hats then. You
should have heard them cheer, and shout, "Long live the Prince of Wales!"

The soldiers presented arms with their halberds, opened the gates, and
presented again as the little Prince of Poverty passed in, in his
fluttering rags, to join hands with the Prince of Limitless Plenty.

Edward Tudor said--

"Thou lookest tired and hungry: thou'st been treated ill. Come with
me."

Half a dozen attendants sprang forward to--I don't know what; interfere,
no doubt. But they were waved aside with a right royal gesture, and they
stopped stock still where they were, like so many statues. Edward took
Tom to a rich apartment in the palace, which he called