The lives of Our Little English Cousins are not so widely different from our own in America. It is only the more ancient associations with which they are surrounded that changes their manners and customs.
Their speech is the same and their amusements and tasks are to a great extent quite similar.
Certain details of home life vary considerably, and when they "take their walks abroad," "Our Little English Cousins," as often as not, visit some ancient historic shrine from whose associations have been built up the great British nation.
Little English cousins and Little American cousins alike, however, would have the same affections for the same things were they but to change places, therefore things are not so very different after all.
What Washington is to America, London is to Britain; meaning in this case England, Ireland, and Scotland as well, for our little Scotch and Irish cousins by no means like one to talk or write of England alone when one really means Britain.
"Our Little English Cousin" lives in a less rigorous climate than that which prevails for the most part in America. Their winters are in general not so cold (though they are quite as long) and not usually so bright and sunny. The summers are by no means so hot as ours and are accordingly most delightful.
The open-air pleasures of our English cousins, while existent in our own country, are at least more general than with us, and tea out-of-doors, in the garden, or on the banks of the Thames is an institution which is quite unique, and accordingly, as a summer divertisement, is greatly in vogue.
The Associations which link America with England are many and important; indeed they are so numerous that it were futile to attempt to give place to any in this introductory note beyond recalling to the mind of little American cousins that the great Washington himself was of a well-known English family before they settled in America.
To-day, if the English are not emigrating to America to the extent that they formerly were, our American cousins are returning the visits, if only for pleasure or edification, in astonishingly growing numbers each year.
All this makes for a better understanding and appreciation of each other and cements the growing friendship of years, which in our progressive times is a good thing not to overlook.
"Our Little English Cousin," then, extends a cordial hand of welcome, not only to her cousins across the seas who annually make visits to her native land, but to the stay-at-homes as well, who have that pleasure in store for some future time.
"Now it is really time to get ready, is it not, Miss Green?" exclaimed Edith, looking up at the clock for the twentieth time during the last half-hour, and breaking off in the middle of the list of English kings and queens which she was trying to commit to memory. Which king came after Henry III., in that far-away time, seemed a small matter compared to the outing which she and her governess had planned to enjoy on the river that lovely afternoon.
Miss Green smiled indulgently as she closed her book. "It does seem a shame to remain indoors a moment longer than one can help such a day as this. Well, I will see Betty about the tea-things and pack them in the basket while you are getting ready."
You may imagine it did not take Edith long to put away her books; then giving her good-natured governess a hug she skipped off for her hat and coat.
"There are Eleanor and Clarence waiting for us now," cried Edith, as she and Miss Green, who was carrying the tea-basket, crossed the gardens. Running over the lawn, which stretched down to the river, she greeted her two little playmates from the vicarage. All three were bubbling over with glee at the prospect of an outing this bright June afternoon upon the river Thames. They were to go up-stream to a pretty little nook, in a quiet "backwater," which was a favourite spot with them, and have a "gipsy" tea under the willows.
The children were soon seated on cushions in the neat little shallow punt. Towser, the big collie dog, was already in the boat, for he knew he was a welcome companion on these trips.
Miss Green, standing at one end, poled the boat gracefully through the water. This looks like an easy thing to do, but it takes a great deal of skill to handle a punt.
"Does not the river look gay?" said Eleanor. "There are lots of people out." The river indeed was covered with pleasure craft of all kinds. There is probably no stream in the world so given up to pleasure as is the Thames, which flows through the very heart of England; indeed it has been called the "River of Pleasure."
It took all Miss Green's skill to steer through the many boats filled with gay parties. Daintily fitted up rowboats with soft-cushioned seats, the ladies in their bright summer dresses, with parasols of gay colours; the men in white flannel suits and straw hats. There were many punts like their own. Also tiny sailboats, some of them with bright red or blue sails; while every now and then a crew of young men from one of the colleges sculled past them, practising for the forthcoming boat-race. All made way for these swift racing boats, for one of the unwritten rules of the river is that boat crews must not be interfered with while practising.
Occasionally our party in the punt would get the effect of a gentle wave from an automobile boat or a steam-launch as it rushed by.
In the midst of it all were to be seen the swans gliding in and out among the boats. The Thames swans are as well known as the river itself. They are very privileged birds and directly under the protection of the government itself. There are special keepers to look after them, and any person who injured a swan in any way would be punished. But no harm ever happens to them, for the lovely white birds are great pets with every one, and the children especially like nothing better than to feed them.
Along the banks, under the shade of overhanging trees, were merry boat-loads of family parties making a picnic of their afternoon tea, as our little party intended to do.
You must know that everybody in England takes what is called "five o'clock tea," and would no more think of going without their tea in the afternoon than their dinner.
Presently the punt glided behind a clump of trees. You would think it was going into some one's garden, but out it came into a quiet bit of water, a miniature bay quite apart from the main river. This is called a "backwater." Catching hold of a tree with the hook on the end of her pole, Miss Green brought the punt up against the bank under the overhanging willows, and the young people were quickly out and on shore.
Then the tea-basket was brought from the punt. "Now, Clarence," said Miss Green, "you fill the teakettle while the girls help me."
Their kettle was especially constructed for these occasions with a hollow space in the bottom into which fits a small spirit-lamp—this so the wind cannot blow out the flame.
"My! we have got a jolly lot of cake; that's good," and Clarence looked very approvingly at the nice plum-cake and the Madeira cake, which is a sort of sponge cake with slices of preserved citron on top of it—a favourite cake for teas.
In a few minutes the water boiled in spite of everybody watching it attentively, and Miss Green filled the teapot. Then they all gathered around the dainty cloth spread on the grass, and the slices of bread and butter, known as "cut bread and butter," and the lovely strawberry jam quickly disappeared.
"Why do we always eat more out-of-doors," said Edith, "than when we are indoors eating in the proper way? I suppose it is because we are doing it for fun that it seems different from tea in the schoolroom."
"Perhaps the fresh air has more to do with it than anything else," laughed Miss Green, as she cut them the sixth piece of cake all around.
"Now you rest, Miss Green, and we will pack up everything," said Eleanor.
"Yes, and let's wash up the tea-things. It will be fun," said Edith, "and Betty will be surprised."
So the little girls amused themselves with their housekeeping, while Clarence and Towser ran races up and down the greensward until it was time to return.
The sun was setting when they pulled up at the steps of their boat-landing where Colonel and Mrs. Howard, Edith's parents, were sitting in comfortable wicker garden-chairs, waiting for them.