ldren came out of odd places and said
curious verses. I have heard one story, though I do not know if it is
true, that a little child had been covered all over with gold paint, and
was to be let down in a swing to greet the Queen as she passed
underneath; and when the time came, and the little gilt child was
lowered, it was found to be quite dead, stifled by the gold paint.

That was a sad thing, and I did not want this chapter to be sad, because
history is too full of sad things, and tournaments and games ought to be
gay.

CHAPTER XIII

SIR THOMAS MORE

Sir Thomas More belongs entirely to London, because he was born there,
he lived there, and he died there, so that his story cannot be missed
out. But it is a story that is in some ways rather difficult to
understand. When Sir Thomas was a little boy he was not Sir Thomas at
all, but probably just Tom. He was born in a street called Milk Street,
a name not difficult to remember. It is close by St. Paul's Cathedral,
and now is a little narrow street full of warehouses, where merchants
keep their goods. When Tom was fifteen he was sent, according to the
custom of the times, to be a page. And the household to which he went
was a very great one indeed, nothing less than that of the Archbishop of
Canterbury, whose palace was not far from Westminster, on the other side
of the river. At this time Henry VII. was king, and England was resting
in peace after the long Wars of the Roses. Thomas waited at table like
other pages, and learnt many things, such as riding and tilting, as well
as Latin and Greek; but though he was a very bright, sweet-tempered boy,
he was always more inclined to learning than to sport, and when he grew
a little older it was thought a pity he should not learn more, so he was
sent to Oxford University. When he had finished his time at Oxford he
came back to London, and became a barrister, and very soon after he
began to think about marrying.

He knew at that time three girls, sisters, and he liked the second one
very much; but then it was considered rather a disgrace if a younger
sister were married before an elder one. And someone told him that the
eldest sister liked him very much, so what did he do but propose to the
eldest and marry her. She seems to have been a nice girl, and for six
years they lived very happily together; and then she died, leaving him
with four children--three little daughters, Margaret, Elizabeth, and
Cicely, and one so