Day; and the gilded barges and smoking
cannon on the river's side. But it was not every day her Majesty ambled
through the city on her hunting horse, and passed our way with her
gallants for a day's sport in Epping woods.

As for me, I had no eyes or throat for any but that queenly woman, as
she cantered boldly on her white palfrey, a pace or more ahead of her
glittering courtiers. Had any one said to me that Elizabeth was that
day neither young nor lovely--had anyone even dared to whisper that she
was not divine--I would have brained him with my club where he stood.
For a moment her head turned my way, she waved her hand--it had a little
whip in it--and her lips moved to some words. Then as I rent the air
with a "God save your Majesty!" she was past.

At Temple Bar, the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs, arrayed for the hunt, with
buglers and dogs attending, stood across the way, and with mighty
ceremony and palaver admitted her to the City. Woe betide them, for all
their gold collars and maces, had they kept her out!

But the halt, short as it was, served our purpose. For there was no
more going back to work on a day like this.

"To the front, clubs, and lead the way," shouted I, with what voice was
left me.

It was enough for the lads without Temple Bar. They closed on me with a
cheer, and followed me at the run, past the gaping Court ushers, past
the royal jockeys, past the Queen herself (Heaven bless her!) past Lord
Mayor, Sheriffs, and yapping beagles, through the echoing gates of
Temple Bar, till we stood at the head of the procession, and longed,
with a mighty longing, that someone might dispute the way with us.

But we had no work for our clubs that morning. As we moved forward, our
body, like a growing snowball, was swelled by the 'prentices of each
ward, shouting as lustily as we, "Make way!" and hurling defiance, like
us, on all the Queen's foes by land and by sea. Even the gay sparks of
the Temple gave us no handle for a sally, for they shouted with the best
of us.

And so, down Fleet Street and in at the Ludgate, past the square tower
of Saint Paul's, and along merry Cheap, we passed; our numbers swelling
at every step, till it seemed as if all London was out escorting her
Majesty through the city. As you passed below Bow Church you could
scarcely hear the clanging of the bells for the shouting of the people.

At the New Exchange there was like to be a battle at last. For the
'prentices, of the Br