IT4

such a way I have often rested and talked to him,
or listened while he told me how he had many a
time seen the young royal pair upon the sands be-
low, at play like a couple of children, pushing each
other into the water, or drenching each other with
the salt sea spray. They used to drive from Sand-
ringham with as few attendants as possible, put up
their carriage and horses at a little old-fashioned
inn near the shore, and walk down to the beach.
The landlord of this inn is (for he still lives) an ec-
centric character, come of an old gypsy family es-
tablished for more than five centuries in the village,
during which time every now and then the gypsy
blood would break out and some one member of
the family would take to roving. The old man him-
self did so in his young days. Curiously enough
his surname is Wales, and one day he said to the
Prince, “ Your Royal Highness must surely be re-
lated to me, for my name is Wales.” The Prince
was mightily amused with the old man’s joke, and
showed his appreciation of it by repeating it often.

These little excursions generally included a pic-
nic lunch, either on the beach, or in the park which
forms a part of the estate of the lord of the manor,
who was then an absentee, representing the British
government at Washington. An invariable feature
of these picnics was the boiling of a pot-ful of
potatoes over a gypsy fire. On this the Princess
always insisted. On one of these occasions an old
woman familiarly known in the village as “ granny,”
whose birth was lost in the mist of antiquity be-
cause, as she herself told me, “her mother never
wrote it down,” danced before their royal high-
nesses, and was rewarded with a shower of small
coins. The sum of poor old “ granny’s ” years is
told now, and she is gone home, and changes of
various kinds have put an end to these rural pic-
nics on the beach. Only now and again, generally
when they are down for the Easter recess, the Prince
and Princess visit the shore with their children ;
and the Princess may be seen in her high water-
boots, walking leisurely through the thin edge of
the water as it creeps up and along the shore. Per-
haps, who can tell, the scene reminds them of those
merry days of old, and they tell over again to
make the royal children laugh, some remembered
incident, perhaps of old granny’s dance, or the
landlord’s relationship.

They are easily moved to smiles and laughter,
these happy, healthy children in whom the spirit

OUR ROYAL NEIGHBORS AT SANDRINGHAM.

of fun and enjoyment seems to be re-kindled with
added force. Prince George is the mainspring of
all the frolic and fun that goes on at Sandringham,
at Christmas and other times. He is a good speci-
men of English boyhood, strong, active, and brim-
ful of mischief. His elder brother, known here by
his pet home name “ Prince Eddy,” is more thought-
ful and studious, though now and again Prince
George’s spirit seems. to infect him. With both,
Mr. Beck, the agent, is a great favorite. I am
almost ashamed to tell how they bestowed upon
him the soubriquet of “Old Satan” — wherefore, I

 

 

THE PRINCESSES, VICTORIA AND MAUD, OF WALES.

cannot imagine, for nothing more anti-Satanic
than his jovial, weather-bronzed face can be con-
ceived. They used to delight in waylaying him
with snow-balls, and in making him the subject of
all sorts of pranks. And yet they have a care for
his comfort, for at luncheon Prince George has
heaped his plate up with dainties, thinking he cared
for, and yet could not get them at home! And
they have a regard for his appearance too, advis-
ing him as to the kind of collars he should wear,
and on one occasion Prince George went so far as