The White Goat 267 



and I, skinning the second goat, that we held a 

 conversation which I must here record. 



How we ever fell upon such a subject as the 

 royal family of England, I do not remember; 

 but camping in the wilderness uses up subjects, 

 and leaves you with a steadily narrowing choice 

 each day; and T , who took an illustrated 

 paper, observed to me that he had always rather 

 liked "that chap Lome." This was how he 

 phrased it; his language about some of the 

 others held less of compliment. 



Now I had happened, not long before this, to 

 read of a distressing contretemps that had be- 

 fallen the procession during the Queen's jubilee, 

 and I reminded T of this ; but it was new to 

 him. So I told him that while the crowned 

 heads were proceeding in state through London 

 streets with the eyes of the civilized world watch- 

 ing them with admiration, the Marquis of Lome's 

 horse kicked up. It was a horse that required 

 a better rider than the Prince of Wales had con- 

 sidered the marquis to be, for he had warned 

 him against the animal beforehand. But the 

 marquis preferred to ride him. And so the horse 

 kicked up, and off fell the marquis, right in the 

 middle of the Queen's jubilee. 



