erce
frown, his long tail going to and fro like that of a tiger in its lair;
for Sooty Will had a temper like hot gunpowder, that was apt to go off
_sizz_, _whizz_, _bang_! and no one to save the pieces. Yet, at least
while the cook was by, he turned the mill furiously, as if with a right
good-will.

Meantime, out in the city a glorious day came on. The sun went buzzing
up the pink-and-yellow sky with a sound like that of a walking-doll's
works, or of a big Dutch clock behind a door; banners waved from the
castled heights, and bugles sang from every tower; the city gates rang
with the cheers of the enthusiastic crowd. Up from cellars, down from
lofts, off work-benches, and out at the doors of their masters' shops,
dodging the thwacks of their masters' straps, "pop-popping" like corks
from the necks of so many bottles, came apprentices, shop-boys, knaves
and scullions, crying: "God save the King! Hurrah! Hurrah! Masters and
work may go to Rome; our tasks shall wait on our own sweet wills; 't is
holiday when the King comes home. God save the King! Hurrah!"

Then came the procession. There were first three regiments of
trumpeters, all blowing different tunes; then fifteen regiments of
mounted infantry on coal-black horses, forty squadrons of
green-and-blue dragoons, and a thousand drummers and fifers
in scarlet and blue and gold, making a thundering din with their
rootle-te-tootle-te-tootle-te-rootle; and pretty well up to the front in
the ranks was the King himself, bowing and smiling to the populace, with
his hand on his breast; and after him the army, all in shining armor,
just enough pounded to be picturesque, miles on miles of splendid men,
all bearing the trophies of glorious war, and armed with lances and bows
and arrows, falchions, morgensterns, martels-de-fer, and other choice
implements of justifiable homicide, and the reverse, such as hautboys
and sackbuts and accordions and dudelsacks and Scotch bagpipes--a
glorious sight!

[Illustration: A PART OF THE GRAND PROCESSION]

And, as has been said before, the city gates rang with the cheers of the
crowd, crimson banners waved over the city's pinnacled summits, and
bugles blew, trumpets brayed, and drums beat until it seemed that wild
uproar and rich display had reached its high millennium.

The black cat turned the coffee-mill. "My oh! my oh!" he said. "It
certainly is not fair that those bench-legged turnspits with feet like
so much leather should see the Ki