Come, this will do; this is Christian-like, there is room
here; but the singin' is in next room, I will go and hear them. Oh! here
they are agin; it's a proper mob this. Cuss, these English, they can't
live out of mobs. Prince Albert is there in that room; I must go and see
him. He is popular; he is a renderin' of himself very agreeable to the
English, is Prince: he mixes with them as much as he can; and shews
his sense in that. Church steeples are very pretty things: that one to
Antwerp is splendiriferous; it's everlastin' high, it most breaks your
neck layin' back your head to look at it; bend backward like a hoop, and
stare at it once with all your eyes, and you can't look up agin, you are
satisfied. It tante no use for a Prince to carry a head so high as that,
Albert knows this; he don't want to be called the highest steeple,
cause all the world knows he is about the top loftiest; but he want's to
descend to the world we live in.

"With a Queen all men love, and a Prince all men like, royalty has a
root in the heart here. Pity, too, for the English don't desarve to have
a Queen; and such a Queen as they have got too, hang me if they do. They
ain't men, they hante the feelin's or pride o' men in 'em; they ain't
what they used to be, the nasty, dirty, mean-spirited, sneakin' skunks,
for if they had a heart as big as a pea--and that ain't any great size,
nother--cuss 'em, when any feller pinted a finger at her to hurt her, or
even frighten her, they'd string him right up on the spot, to the lamp
post. Lynch him like a dog that steals sheep right off the reel, and
save mad-doctors, skary judges, and Chartist papers all the trouble of
findin' excuses. And, if that didn't do, Chinese like, they'd take the
whole crowd present and sarve _them_ out. They'd be sure to catch the
right one then. I wouldn't shed blood, because that's horrid; it shocks
all Christian people, philosophisin' legislators, sentimental ladies,
and spooney gentlemen. It's horrid barbarous that, is sheddin' blood; I
wouldn't do that, I'd jist hang him. A strong cord tied tight round his
neck would keep that precious mixtur, traitor's blood, all in as close
as if his mouth was corked, wired, and white-leaded, like a champagne
bottle.

"Oh dear! these are the fellers that come out a travellin' among us,
and sayin' the difference atween you and us is 'the absence of loyalty.'
I've heard tell a great deal of that loyalty, but I've seen precious
little of i