ter than velvet and satin; obedient and dutiful
to his parents, although he often disagreed with their opinions. And
this was all the more creditable to him; for his mother openly showed
her preference for his younger brother Charles; while his father was
jealous and afraid of the noble-minded, truthful boy who would not
countenance the scandals and evils of James's corrupt court.

FOOTNOTES:

[58] Now in the possession of Maurice Kingsley, Esq.

[59] Life of Henry, Prince of Wales. By Dr. Thomas Birch. p. 11.

[60] Birch. p. 16.

[61] Birch. p. 20. The letter is in the Harleian MSS. in the British
Museum.

[62] Birch. p. 22.

[63] Harleian MSS.

[64] Edward Howe's Chronicle. p. 826.

[65] A pun on _manger_ and _penser_, to eat and to think.

[66] Green's Princesses. Vol. 5. p. 172.

[67] Birch. p. 68.

[68] Birch. p. 385.

[69] Ambassades de la Boderie. Birch. p. 70.

[70] Birch. p. 75. Ambassades de la Boderie. Vol. I, p. 400.

CHAPTER IX.

HENRY FREDERICK, PRINCE OF WALES (_continued_).

All English and American children have heard of the Fifth of November.
It was a day of mingled terror and delight in our childhood. Just at
dusk a band of men and boys used to tramp down the road, and gather
close under the windows. They were armed with guns, and bore on poles a
chair upon which was seated a hideous life-size effigy of a man, dressed
in an old tattered coat and battered tall hat. Then they began in
sepulchral voices to repeat the following words, very fast, with no
stops, and in broad Hampshire dialect:

Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder trayson and plot.
I know no rayson why gunpowder trayson
Ever should be forgot.

Old Guy Fox and his companions,
With fifty-two barrels of gunpowder
To blow old England up.
Look into your pocket, there's a little chink,
Pray pull it up and give us some drink;
All we wants is a little more money
To kindle up our old Bonfire.
If you won't give us one bavven[71] we'll take two,
The better for we and the wuss for you.

Holler, boys, holler, boys, God save the King!
Holler, boys, holler, boys, make the house ring.
Hip! Hip! hip! Hoorah![72]

And "holler" they did. While the children, knowing what was coming,
cowered shuddering inside the window curtains, frightened to death, and
yet so fascinated with horror they were obliged to look, "Bang, bang,
bang," wen