tly increased, and still less did
he wish the King to discover that by acting in opposition to his
ministers he might gain in popular esteem.

As one of the Knights of the Thorn he himself had been obliged to
attend the ceremony; and by some it was noticed that, as he stood
holding a golden ewer in his two hands, he looked very cross. But
all the other Knights of the Thorn--those who had towels and soap as
perquisites--enjoyed themselves thoroughly and were already looking
forward to a repetition of the performance next year. Even in their
case, then, the King had proved to be right,--forms and ceremonies
accompanied by fine clothes were still popular things; the Order of the
New Broom would not be yet.

III

And then, with blare of trumpet and clash of drum, with troopings and
marchings, with garlanded streets and miles upon miles of cheering
people, came the great Jubilee festivities. Silver was the note of the
decorations--silver in the midst of green spring. The Queen herself wore
silver gowns and bonnets of heliotrope, and the King a uniform wherein
silver braid formed the becoming substitute for gold. Corporations came
carrying silver caskets; army pensioners and school-children, feted at
the public expense, received white metal mementoes which, while new at
any rate, looked as real as any coin of the realm. For a whole week the
piebald ponies really worked for their living, grumbling loudly between
whiles in their stalls; for a whole week "loyalty" was the note on which
the press harped its seraphic praises of monarchy and nation; and for a
whole week people actually did drop politics, reduce their hours of
labor, and run about enjoying themselves.

The poet laureate published an ode for the occasion; he remarked on the
passing of time, said that the King had acquired wisdom and
understanding, but that the Queen did not look a day older; said that
the trees were green on that day twenty-five years ago when the King
ascended the throne, and that they were green still; said that cows ate
grass then, and were eating it now without any decrease of appetite;
said, in fact, that nothing sweet, reasonable, or beautiful had really
changed at all, and that the monarchy, taking its constitutional day by
day, was the national expression of that unchangeableness.

The day after the appearance of his poem he received that titular
recognition for lack of which a poet laureate must feel that he has
lived in vain. And th