“Ain’t this like comin’ into a savage tribe that ain’t seen no civilized human bein’ fer years?”

“Wot is it?” a voice shouted.

“’E’s a blarsted bush w’acker from North Hamerica, ’e is,” another answered.

Jack stopped a cab and they got into it.

“Show us some of the great buildings and land us in an hour at 10 Bloomsbury Square, East,” he said.

With a sense of relief they were whisked away in the stream of traffic.

They passed the King’s palace and the great town houses of the Duke of Bedford and Lord Balcarras, each of which was pointed out by the driver.  Suddenly every vehicle near them stopped, while their male occupants sat with bared heads.  Jack observed a curious procession on the sidewalk passing between two lines of halted people.

“Hit’s their Majesties!” the driver whispered under his breath.

The King—­a stout, red-nosed, blue-jowled man, with big, gray, staring eyes—­was in a sedan chair surmounted by a crown.  He was dressed in light cloth with silver buttons.  Queen Charlotte, also in a chair, was dressed in lemon colored silk ornamented with brocaded flowers.  The two were smiling and bowing as they passed.  In a moment the procession entered a great gate.  Then there was a crack of whips and the traffic resumed its hurried pace.

“Hit’s their Majesties, sir, goin’ to a drawin’-room at Lord Rawdon’s, sir,” the driver explained as he drove on.

“Did you see the unnatural look in his gray eyes?” said Jack, turning to Solomon.

“Ayes!  Kind o’ skeered like!  ‘Twere a han’some yoke o’ men totin’ him—­well broke, too, I guess.  Pulled even an’ nobody yellin’ gee er haw er whoa hush.”

“You know it isn’t proper for kings and queens to walk in public,” Jack answered.

Again Solomon had on his shooting face.  With his left eye closed, he took deliberate aim with the other at the subject before them and thus discharged his impressions.

“Uh huh!  I suppose ’twouldn’t do fer ’em to be like other folks so they have to have some extry pairs o’ legs to kind o’ put ’on when they go ou’doors.  I wonder if they ain’t obleeged to have an extry set o’ brains fer public use.”

“They have quantities of ’em all made and furnished to order and stored in the court,” said Jack.  “His own mind is only for use in the private rooms.”

“I should think ‘twould git out o’ order,” Solomon remarked.

“It does.  They say he’s been as crazy as a loon.”

Soon the two observers became interested in a band of sooty-faced chimney sweeps decorated with ribbands and gilt paper.  They were making musical sounds with their brushes and scrapers and soliciting gifts from the passing crowd and, now and then, scrambling for tossed coins.

In the Ave Mary Lane they saw a procession of milk men and maids carrying wreaths of flowers on wheelbarrows, the first of which held a large white pyramid which seemed to be a symbol of their calling.  They were also begging.