the days of my life

第81部分 (第4/7頁)

l；　he’s　gone！　Let’s　thank　God　and　the　saints　it　isn’t　us！”

On　the　other　hand；　the　same　tidings　moved　an　old　woman　in　a　wretched　shanty　in　Connemara　literally　to　tears。

“And　it’s　dead　he　is；”　she　said　to　me。　“Shure；　he　was　a　grand　man！　Never　a　week　but　he　sent　me　five　shillings　with　his　own　name　to　it。”

Further　queries　elicited　the　fact　that　this　old　lady　believed　that　his　late　Majesty　personally　posted　to　her　five　shillings　each　Monday　morning；　which　she　drew　at　the　Post　Office　in　the　shape　of　an　Old　Age　Pension！　Hence　her　loyal　soul。

On　my　return　to　London　I　saw　King　Edward’s　body　lying　in　state　in　Westminster　Hall；　and　afterwards　watched　the　noble　panorama　of　his　funeral　from　the　upper　balcony　of　the　Athenaeum。　Thomas　Hardy　and　I　sat　together；　there　were；　I　remember；　but　few　in　the　club。

The　great　military　pageant　of　the　passing　of　the　mortal　remains　of　King　Edward　brought　back　to　my　mind　that　of　the　burial　of　Queen　Victoria。　This　I　saw　from　the　house　of　one　of　the　minor　Canons；　which　was　exactly　opposite　to　the　steps　of　the　Chapel　at　Windsor。　The　sight　of　the　gorgeous　procession　passing　up　those　steps　impressed　itself　very　deeply　on　me。　The　bearers　staggering　under　the　weight　of　the　massive　leaden　coffin　that　yet　seemed　so　short；　till　once　or　twice　I　thought　that　they　must　fall；　the　cloaked　King　Edward　walking　immediately　behind；　followed　by　a　galaxy　of　princes；　the　officer；　or　aide…decamp；　who　came　to　him；　saluting；　to　make　some　report　or　ask　some　order；　and　received　a　nod　in　answer；　the　troops　with　arms　reversed；　the　boom　of　the　solemn　guns；　the　silent；　watching　multitude；　the　bright　sun　gilding　the　wintry　scene；　the　wind　that　tossed　the　plumes　and　draperies　—　all　these　and　more　made　a　picture　never　to　be　forgotten。　And　now；　after