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
acquaintances hugged and kissed each other and cried. Everybody took a
holiday, and high and low, rich and poor, feasted and danced and sang,
and got very mellow; and they kept this up for days and nights
together. By day, London was a sight to see, with gay banners waving
from every balcony and housetop, and splendid pageants marching along.
By night, it was again a sight to see, with its great bonfires at
every corner, and its troops of revelers 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.
CHAPTER II
Tom's Early Life
LET us skip a number of years.
London was fifteen hundred years old, and was a great town- for
that day. It had a hundred thousand inhabitants- some think double
as many. The streets were very narrow, and crooked, and dirty,
especially in the part where Tom Canty lived, which was not far from
London Bridge.
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