PARLEY SEES THE QUEEN, AND RELATES SOME ANECDOTES OF HER MAJESTY.
"'WHAT a dear sweet lady!' were the first words of Peter Parley when
the Royal cavalcade had passed.
[Illustration: _Madeley lith. 3, Wellington St. Strand._
HER MAJESTY LEAVING BUCKINGHAM PALACE ON THE MORNING OF THE CORONATION.]
"'She is a dear sweet lady, Mr. Parley, and, what is more, she is as
good as she is sweet,' said my friend, Major Meadows, who, afraid lest
I should overwalk myself in my zeal for sight-seeing, had followed me
from Westminster Abbey and luckily fallen in with me in the park,
and he went on to relate many very interesting anecdotes of the young
Queen, which Peter Parley took good care to remember because he knew
they would gratify his young friends."
"'Her Majesty is doatingly fond of children, Mr. Parley,' said he, 'and
that you know is always the sign of a good heart. Nothing can be finer
than the traits of character exhibited in a little anecdote which Lady
M---- told me a day or two ago.
"'Not long since, her Majesty commanded Lady Barham, one of the ladies
in waiting, to bring her family of lovely children to the new palace.
They were greatly admired and fondly caressed by the Queen; when a
beautiful little boy about three years of age artlessly said--
"'I do not see the Queen; I want to see the Queen;' upon which her
Majesty, smiling, said--
"'I am the Queen, love;' and taking her little guest into her arms
repeatedly kissed the astonished child.
"This little anecdote warmed old Peter Parley's heart towards the young
Queen; nor did any of the stories which Major Meadows told me tend to
lessen my regard for her. Peter Parley was pleased to hear that she has
a proper sense of the importance of the station to which she has been
called by Divine Providence.
"On the day on which she was proclaimed Queen of Great Britain she
arrived in company with her royal mother at St. James's Palace for the
purpose of taking part in the important ceremony. As they drove towards
the palace the party received the most affectionate demonstrations
of loyalty and attachment, the people following the carriages with a
continuous cry of 'Long live the Queen'--'God bless our youthful Queen,
long may she live,' &c. Yet, exciting and exhilirating as were these
acclamations, her Majesty's countenance exhibited marks only of anxiety
and grief.
"They arrived at St. James's Palace a little before ten o'clock. When
the old bell of the palace-clock announced that hour, the band struck
up the National Anthem, the Park and Tower guns fired a double royal
salute, and the young and trembling Queen, led by the Marquis of
Lansdowne, President of the Council, appeared at an open window looking
into the great court of the Palace. At the fervent and enthusiastic
shout of the people who had come to witness the ceremony, her Majesty
burst into tears, and, in spite of all her efforts to restrain them,
they continued to flow down her pale cheeks all the time she remained
at the window. Her emotions did not, however, prevent her from
returning her acknowledgments for the devotedness of her people.
"Some of the most interesting anecdotes which Peter Parley heard,
however, related to an earlier period of the Queen's life, when she was
Princess Victoria.
"'Here is an anecdote which I heard at a Missionary Meeting, Mr.
Parley,' said Major Meadows, 'and I assure you it told with great
effect.'"
"A poor but truly pious widow, placed in charge of a lighthouse on the
south coast of the Mersey, had resolved to devote the receipts of one
day in the year, during the visiting season, to the Missionary cause.
On one of these days, a lady in widow's weeds and a little girl in
deep mourning came to see the lighthouse; sympathy in misfortune led
to conversation, and before the unknown visitor took her departure
they had most probably mingled their tears together. The lady left
behind her a sovereign. The unusually large gratuity immediately caused
a conflict in the breast of the poor woman, as to whether she was
absolutely bound to appropriate the whole of it to the Missionary-box
or not. At length she compromised, by putting in half-a-crown. But
conscience would not let her rest: she went to bed, but could not
sleep; she arose, took back the half-crown, put in the sovereign, went
to bed and slept comfortably. A few days afterwards, to her great
surprise, she received a double letter, franked, and on opening it,
was no less astonished than delighted to find twenty pounds from the
widow lady, and five pounds from the little girl in deep mourning. And
who were that lady and that little girl, do you think? No other than
her Royal Highness the Duchess of Kent and our present rightful and
youthful sovereign."
"During one of the summer seasons of the Princess's childhood the
Duchess of Kent resided in the neighbourhood of Malvern, and almost
daily walked on the Downs. One day the Princess and her beautiful
little dog Pero, of which she was uncommonly fond, happening
considerably to outstrip the Duchess and governess, she overtook a
little peasant girl about her own age. With the thoughtless hilarity
of youth she made up to her, and without ceremony, said to her--
"'My dog is very tired, will you carry him for me if you please?'
"The good-natured girl, quite unconscious of the rank of the applicant,
immediately complied, and tripped along by the side of the Princess for
some time in unceremonious conversation. At length she said,
"'I am tired now, and cannot carry your dog any farther.'
"'Tired!' cried her Royal Highness, 'Impossible! Think what a little
way you have carried him!'
"'Quite far enough,' was the homely reply; 'besides, I am going to my
aunt's, and if your dog must be carried, why cannot you carry him
yourself?'
"So saying, she placed Pero on the grass, and he again joyfully frisked
beside his royal mistress.
"'Going to your aunt's;' rejoined the Princess, unheeding Pero's
gambols; 'pray who is your aunt?'
"'Mrs. Johnson, the miller's wife.'
"'And where does she live?'
"'In that pretty little white house which you see just at the bottom of
the hill, there;' said the unconscious girl, pointing it out among the
trees; and the two companions stood still that the Princess might make
sure that she was right, thus giving the Duchess and her companion
time to come up.
"'Oh, I should like to see her!' exclaimed the light-hearted Princess;
'I will go with you, come let us run down the hill together.'
"'No, no, my Princess,' cried the governess, coming up and taking her
Royal Highness's hand, 'you have conversed long enough with that little
girl, and now the Duchess wishes you to walk with her.
"The awful words 'Princess' and 'Duchess' quite confounded the little
peasant girl; blushing and almost overcome, she earnestly begged pardon
for the liberties she had taken, but her fears were instantly allayed
by the Duchess, who, after thanking her for her trouble in carrying
Pero, recompensed her by giving her half-a-crown.
"Delighted, the little girl curtsied her thanks, and running on briskly
to her aunt's, she related all that had passed, dwelling particularly
on the apprehension she had felt when she discovered that it was the
Princess whom she had desired to carry her dog herself. The half-crown
was afterwards framed and hung up in the miller's homely parlour, as a
memento of this pleasing little adventure."
"This is but a childish story, but Peter Parley loves to hear stories
of good children, and he knows that his little friends love to hear
them too."