LAMBETH PALACE 
No longer does “the river of Thames,” as Stowe quaintly calls it, 
wash any part of their walls, nor do the gardens themselves slope to 
its banks. The groves where nightingales sang, are covered now 
by the wards of a great hospital, and the benevolent Archbishop 
makes some of its inmates free of his green lawns and shady walks, 
for the nurses from St. Thomas’s play tennis on the turf, or recline 
on chairs beneath the trees. 
Many are the garden parties for both rich and poor given at 
Lambeth in the piping times of peace. The humblest, as well 
as the highest in the land, find generous entertainment there, 
though the character of that entertainment has entirely changed 
since Archbishops Parker and Whitgift made Queen Elizabeth 
welcome within their walls. Of course there are many al-fresco 
gatherings, where the ecclesiastical soft hat, gaiters, and even 
apron, are much in evidence. It was of one of these parties that 
a story is told that I may be pardoned for introducing here, for 
it may raise a smile at the close of this chapter, and the history of 
Lambeth of which I have had the telling, has hitherto contained 
much of gravity, and nothing of mirth. 
Having so far tried to be accurate in matter of dates, I will 
now merely say that once upon a time, probably at the end of 
the last century, there was a garden féte at Lambeth, on an occa- 
sion which drew together a concourse of newly-ordained young 
clergymen. 
It was a lovely afternoon, and all went well and gaily, until 
the time for tea and strawberries. Then His Grace’s pet parrot 
escaped, and flew into the garden. Dear me! It almost seemed 
that an ecclesiastical parrot breaking bounds is as great a delin- 
quent as was the Jackdaw of Rheims of Ingoldsby fame, so in- 
tense was the excitement, so tremendous the hullabaloo! The 
ladies put down their tea-cups, and waved their parasols at him, 
and called out “Pretty Poll!” enticingly. The gentlemen 
followed him from bush to bush, and from tree to tree. They 
tempted him with sugar and strawberries, and everything to which 
a pampered bird, brought up in a palace, might be supposed to 
be partial. But the parrot, having newly tasted the greater sweets 
of liberty, was not to be lightly won. No mind had he at present 
to return to his gilded cage. He resisted both blandishments and 
threats, and, moreover, he behaved reprehensibly ; for aggravatingly 
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