The birth of the Prince and the Pauper.

In the ancient city of London, on a certain autumn day in the secondrnquarter of the sixteenth century, a boy was born to a poor family of thernname of Canty, who did not want him. On the same day another Englishrnchild was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him.rnAll England wanted him too. England had so longed for him, and hopedrnfor him, and prayed God for him, that, now that he was really come, thernpeople went nearly mad for joy. Mere acquaintances hugged and kissedrneach other and cried. Everybody took a holiday, and high and low, richrnand poor, feasted and danced and sang, and got very mellow; and theyrnkept this up for days and nights together. By day, London was a sightrnto see, with gay banners waving from every balcony and housetop, andrnsplendid pageants marching along. By night, it was again a sightrnto see, with its great bonfires at every corner, and its troops ofrnrevellers making merry around them. There was no talk in all Englandrnbut of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, who lay lapped inrnsilks and satins, unconscious of all this fuss, and not knowing thatrngreat lords and ladies were tending him and watching over him--and notrncaring, either. But there was no talk about the other baby, Tom Canty,rnlapped in his poor rags, except among the family of paupers whom he hadrnjust come to trouble with his presence.