Chapter 6

           Itwasagloriousmorning,latespringorearlysummer,asyoucaretotakeit,whenthedaintysheenofgrassandleafisblushingtoadeepergreen; andtheyearseemslikeafairyoungmaid,tremblingwithstrange,wakeningpulsesonthebrinkofwomanhood. 

           ThequaintbackstreetsofKingston,wheretheycamedowntothewater’sedge,lookedquitepicturesqueintheflashingsunlight,theglintingriverwithitsdriftingbarges,thewoodedtowpath,thetrim-keptvillasontheotherside,Harris,inaredandorangeblazer,gruntingawayatthesculls, thedistantglimpsesofthegreyoldpalaceoftheTudors,allmadeasunnypicture,sobrightbutcalm,sofulloflife,andyetsopeaceful,that,earlyinthedaythoughitwas,Ifeltmyselfbeingdreamilylulledoffintoamusingfit. 

           ImusedonKingston,or"Kyningestun,"asitwasoncecalledinthedayswhenSaxon"kinges"werecrownedthere. GreatCaesarcrossedtheriverthere,andtheRomanlegionscampeduponitsslopinguplands. Caesar,like,inlateryears,Elizabeth,seemstohavestoppedeverywhere:onlyhewasmorerespectablethangoodQueenBess; hedidn’tputupatthepublic-houses. 

           Shewasnutsonpublic-houses,wasEngland’sVirginQueen. There’sscarcelyapubofanyattractionswithintenmilesofLondonthatshedoesnotseemtohavelookedinat,orstoppedat,orsleptat,sometimeorother. Iwondernow,supposingHarris,say,turnedoveranewleaf,andbecameagreatandgoodman,andgottobePrimeMinister,anddied,iftheywouldputupsignsoverthepublic-housesthathehadpatronised: "Harrishadaglassofbitterinthishouse;""HarrishadtwoofScotchcoldhereinthesummerof’88;""HarriswaschuckedfromhereinDecember,1886."