gthened with
bands of iron, where young Will Shakespeare and his sweetheart often
sat, and where he might have read to her the new poem in honor of her
charms:

"To melt the sad, make blithe the gay,
And nature charm Ann hath a way.
She hath a will,
She hath a way--
To breathe delight, Ann Hathaway."

He or she didn't dream of his future greatness, and I dare say that
old Pa Hathaway, who mebby slept nigh by, might have complained to her
ma, "Wonderin' what that fool meant by talkin' in poetry at that time
of night." And, mebby, if he soared too high and loud in verse, old Pa
Hathaway might have called out:

"Ann! cover up the fire and go to bed! Billy wants to go home!"

I don't say this wuz so, but mebby. So holden are our eyes and so
difficult it is for the human vision to discern between an eagle and a
commoner bird, when the wings are featherin' out, before they are full
plumed for a flight amongst the stars.

Well, we went back to London, tired, but riz up in our minds, and
renewed our sightseeing there.

Miss Meechim and Dorothy bought lots of things that they said they
could git cheaper in England, and Arvilly wuz in great sperits; she
sold three books, sold herself out and went home with an empty box but
a full purse. Robert wuz busy up to the last minute, but managed to
spend time to take Tommy to see some famous waxworks he had promised.

About the middle of the forenoon Robert Strong proposed that we should
all go and take a last drive in the park, and we set off, all but
Arvilly. She thought of some one in another part of the city that she
wanted to canvass, and she started off alone in a handsome. Miss
Meechim and Dorothy wuz feelin' well. Tommy, who wuz in fine sperits,
wuz perched as usual on Robert Strong's knee.

The sheltered drives and smooth windin' roads wuz gay with passers-by,
and the seen wuz beautiful, but I wuz sad and deprested about one
thing. King Edward is a real good natered man, and a good pervider,
and seems to set store by America. And Queen Alexandra is a sweet,
good woman.

But still in these last hours I kep' thinkin' of Edwardses' Ma, who
was rainin' here durin' my last visit. I wuz kep' from visitin' her at
that time by P. Martyn Smythe and onfortunate domestic circumstances.

And I have always worried for fear she hearn I wuz in London that time
and never went nigh her; she not knowin' what hendered me.

I writ her a letter to make her