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Chapter 16


Chapter XVI. The State Dinner.

The dinner hour drew near--yet strangely enough, the thought
brought but slight discomfort to Tom, and hardly any terror.  The
morning's experiences had wonderfully built up his confidence; the
poor little ash-cat was already more wonted to his strange garret,
after four days' habit, than a mature person could have become in
a full month.  A child's facility in accommodating itself to
circumstances was never more strikingly illustrated.

Let us privileged ones hurry to the great banqueting-room and have
a glance at matters there whilst Tom is being made ready for the
imposing occasion.  It is a spacious apartment, with gilded
pillars and pilasters, and pictured walls and ceilings.  At the
door stand tall guards, as rigid as statues, dressed in rich and
picturesque costumes, and bearing halberds.  In a high gallery
which runs all around the place is a band of musicians and a
packed company of citizens of both sexes, in brilliant attire.  In
the centre of the room, upon a raised platform, is Tom's table.
Now let the ancient chronicler speak:

"A gentleman enters the room bearing a rod, and along with him
another bearing a tablecloth, which, after they have both kneeled
three times with the utmost veneration, he spreads upon the table,
and after kneeling again they both retire; then come two others,
one with the rod again, the other with a salt-cellar, a plate, and
bread; when they have kneeled as the others had done, and placed
what was brought upon the table, they too retire with the same
ceremonies performed by the first; at last come two nobles, richly
clothed, one bearing a tasting-knife, who, after prostrating
themselves three times in the most graceful manner, approach and
rub the table with bread and salt, with as much awe as if the King
had been present." {6}

So end the solemn preliminaries.  Now, far down the echoing
corridors we hear a bugle-blast, and the indistinct cry, "Place
for the King!  Way for the King's most excellent majesty!"  These
sounds are momently repeated--they grow nearer and nearer--and
presently, almost in our faces, the martial note peals and the cry
rings out, "Way for the King!"  At this instant the shining
pageant appears, and files in at the door, with a measured march.
Let the chronicler speak again:--

"First come Gentlemen, Barons, Earls, Knights of the Garter, all
richly dressed and bareheaded; next comes the Chancellor, between
two, one of which carries the royal sceptre, the other the Sword
of State in a red scabbard, studded with golden fleurs-de-lis, the
point upwards; next comes the King himself--whom, upon his
appearing, twelve trumpets and many drums salute with a great
burst of welcome, whilst all in the galleries rise in their
places, crying 'God save the King!'  After him come nobles
attached to his person, and on his right and left march his guard
of honour, his fifty Gentlemen Pensioners, with gilt battle-axes."

This was all fine and pleasant.  Tom's pulse beat high, and a glad
light was in his eye.  He bore himself right gracefully, and all
the more so because he was not thinking of how he was doing it,
his mind being charmed and occupied with the blithe sights and
sounds about him--and besides, nobody can be very ungraceful in
nicely-fitting beautiful clothes after he has grown a little used
to them--especially if he is for the moment unconscious of them.
Tom remembered his instructions, and acknowledged his greeting
with a slight inclination of his plumed head, and a courteous "I
thank ye, my good people."

He seated himself at table, without removing his cap; and did it
without the least embarrassment; for to eat with one's cap on was
the one solitary royal custom upon which the kings and the Cantys
met upon common ground, neither party having any advantage over
the other in the matter of old familiarity with it.  The pageant
broke up and grouped itself picturesquely, and remained
bareheaded.

Now to the sound of gay music the Yeomen of the Guard entered,--
"the tallest and mightiest men in England, they being carefully
selected in this regard"--but we will let the chronicler tell
about it:--

"The Yeomen of the Guard entered, bareheaded, clothed in scarlet,
with golden roses upon their backs; and these went and came,
bringing in each turn a course of dishes, served in plate.  These
dishes were received by a gentleman in the same order they were
brought, and placed upon the table, while the taster gave to each
guard a mouthful to eat of the particular dish he had brought, for
fear of any poison."

Tom made a good dinner, notwithstanding he was conscious that
hundreds of eyes followed each morsel to his mouth and watched him
eat it with an interest which could not have been more intense if
it had been a deadly explosive and was expected to blow him up and
scatter him all about the place.  He was careful not to hurry, and
equally careful not to do anything whatever for himself, but wait
till the proper official knelt down and did it for him.  He got
through without a mistake--flawless and precious triumph.

When the meal was over at last and he marched away in the midst of
his bright pageant, with the happy noises in his ears of blaring
bugles, rolling drums, and thundering acclamations, he felt that
if he had seen the worst of dining in public it was an ordeal
which he would be glad to endure several times a day if by that
means he could but buy himself free from some of the more
formidable requirements of his royal office.


Mark Twain