these English, they can't live out of mobs. Prince Albert
is there in that room; I must go and see him. He is
popular; he is a renderin' of himself very agreeable to
the English, is Prince: he mixes with them as much as he
can; and shews his sense in that. Church steeples are
very pretty things: that one to Antwerp is splendiriferous;
it's everlastin' high, it most breaks your neck layin'
back your head to look at it; bend backward like a hoop,
and stare at it once with all your eyes, and you can't
look up agin, you are satisfied. It tante no use for a
Prince to carry a head so high as that, Albert knows
this; he don't want to be called the highest steeple,
cause all the world knows he is about the top loftiest;
but he want's to descend to the world we live in.

"With a Queen all men love, and a Prince all men like,
royalty has a root in the heart here. Pity, too, for the
English don't desarve to have a Queen; and such a Queen
as they have got too, hang me if they do. They ain't men,
they hante the feelin's or pride o' men in 'em; they
ain't what they used to be, the nasty, dirty, mean-spirited,
sneakin' skunks, for if they had a heart as big as a
pea--and that ain't any great size, nother--cuss 'em,
when any feller pinted a finger at her to hurt her, or
even frighten her, they'd string him right up on the
spot, to the lamp post. Lynch him like a dog that steals
sheep right off the reel, and save mad-doctors, skary
judges, and Chartist papers all the trouble of findin'
excuses. And, if that didn't do, Chinese like, they'd
take the whole crowd present and sarve _them_ out. They'd