Giants, and whales, and bottomless pits, and salvage men, and the like we could see to our hearts' content on Lord Mayor's Day; and the gilded barges and smoking cannon on the river's side.

But it was not every day her Majesty ambled through the city on her hunting horse, and passed our way with her gallants for a day's sport in Epping woods.
As for me, I had no eyes or throat for any but that queenly woman, as she cantered boldly on her white palfrey, a pace or more ahead of her glittering courtiers.

Had any one said to me that Elizabeth was that day neither young nor lovely--had anyone even dared to whisper that she was not divine--I would have brained him with my club where he stood.
For a moment her head turned my way, she waved her hand--it had a little whip in it--and her lips moved to some words.

Then as I rent the air with a "God save your Majesty!" she was past.
At Temple Bar, the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs, arrayed for the hunt, with buglers and dogs attending, stood across the way, and with mighty ceremony and palaver admitted her to the City.

Woe betide them, for all their gold collars and maces, had they kept her out! But the halt, short as it was, served our purpose.