I
The Birth of the Prince and the
In the ancient city of London, on a certain day in the second quarter of the century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of , who did not want him. On the same day another English child was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him. All England wanted him too. England had so longed for him, and hoped for him, and prayed God for him, that, now that he was really come, the people went nearly mad for joy. Mere hugged and kissed each other and cried. Everybody took a holiday, and high and low, rich and poor, and danced and sang, and got very ; and they kept this up for days and nights together. By day, London was a sight to see, with gay banners waving from every and housetop, and marching along. By night, it was again a sight to see, with its great at every corner, and its troops of making merry around them. There was no talk in all England but of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, who lay lapped in silks and satins, unconscious of all this fuss, and not knowing that great lords and ladies were tending him and watching over him—and not caring, either. But there was no talk about the other baby, Tom Canty, lapped in his poor rags, except among the family of paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence.