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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:--
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