royalty. There is
a commotion in the vast crowd yonder, the eagerly watched gates swing
wide, and a well-mounted company of cavalry dashes down the turf, in
uniforms of light blue and gold. It is a citizens' company of butchers
and bakers and candlestick-makers, which would do no discredit to the
regular army. Driving close after is a four-horse carriage with two of
the king's ministers; and then, at a rapid pace, six coal-black horses
in silver harness, with mounted postilions, drawing a long, slender,
open carriage with one seat, in which ride the king and his brother,
Prince Otto, come down the way, and are pulled up in front of the
pavilion; while the cannon roars, the big bells ring, all the flags
of Bavaria, Prussia, and Austria, on innumerable poles, are blowing
straight out, the band plays "God save the King," the people break into
enthusiastic shouting, and the young king, throwing off his cloak, rises
and stands in his carriage for a moment, bowing right and left before
he descends. He wears to-day the simple uniform of the citizens' company
which has escorted him, and is consequently more plainly and neatly
dressed than any one else on the platform,--a tall (say six feet),
slender, gallant-looking young fellow of three and twenty, with an open
face and a graceful manner.

But, when he has arrived, things again come to a stand; and we wait for
an hour, and watch the thickening of the clouds, while the king goes
from this to that delighted dignitary on the stand and converses. At
the end of this time, there is a movement. A white dog has got into
the course, and runs up and down between the walls of people in terror,
headed off by soldiers at either side of the grand stand, and finally,
becoming desperate, he makes a dive for the royal pavilion. The
consternation is extreme. The people cheer the dog and laugh: a
white-handed official, in gold lace, and without his hat, rushes out to
"shoo" the dog away, but is unsuccessful; for the animal dashes between
his legs, and approaches the royal and carpeted steps. More men of
rank run at him, and he is finally captured and borne away; and we all
breathe freer that the danger to royalty is averted. At one o'clock six
youths in white jackets, with clubs and coils of rope, had stationed
themselves by the pavilion, but they did not go into action at this
juncture; and I thought they rather enjoyed the activity of the great
men who kept off the dog.

At length there was