Tracks of a Rolling Stone by Henry J. (Henry John) Coke
page 5 of 400 (01%)
page 5 of 400 (01%)
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adventure. Not quite sure of Her Majesty's identity - I had
never heard there was a Queen - I naively asked my mother, in a very audible stage-whisper, 'Who is the old lady with - ?' My mother dragged me off the instant she had made her curtsey. She had a quick sense of humour; and, judging from her laughter, when she told her story to another lady in the supper room, I fancied I had said or done something very funny. I was rather disconcerted at being seriously admonished, and told I must never again comment upon the breath of ladies who condescended to kiss, or to speak to, me. While we lived at Kensington, Lord Anglesey used often to pay my mother a visit. She had told me the story of the battle of Waterloo, in which my Uncle George - 6th Lord Albemarle - had taken part; and related how Lord Anglesey had lost a leg there, and how one of his legs was made of cork. Lord Anglesey was a great dandy. The cut of the Paget hat was an heirloom for the next generation or two, and the gallant Marquis' boots and tightly-strapped trousers were patterns of polish and precision. The limp was perceptible; but of which leg, was, in spite of careful investigation, beyond my diagnosis. His presence provoked my curiosity, till one fine day it became too strong for resistance. While he was busily engaged in conversation with my mother, I, watching for the chance, sidled up to his chair, and as soon as he looked away, rammed my heel on to his toes. They were his toes. And considering the jump and the oath which instantly responded to my test, I am persuaded they were abnormally tender ones. They might have been made of corns, certainly |
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