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1 Leave a comment on paragraph 1 0 July London 832

2 Leave a comment on paragraph 2 0 Accompanied by Mrs
Prescott, Son, and Mr
Burrows, we made
an excursion to the
old Royal Castle at
Windsor, 18 miles by
rail from London,
on the Thames, where
the Queen usually re-
-Windsor Castle- sides when not at her
country seats of Osborn (Isle of Wright) and Balmoral (Scotland).
Five minutes walk from the station carried us to, and through
the walls of this irregular, old pile—and this reminds me, that
is…the red coated individual at an inner door demanding our
“passes” reminds me, of our attempt last Saturday to do
up Windsor. After riding in a cab two miles through the
hot sunshine, buying our tickets, and taking our places in the car, we
discovered in our guidebook that we should have started earlier,
that a “pass” from London is necessary, and thirdly that the
castle is closed on Saturdays, so we all “piled out” while the
cars were underway leaving the astonished conductor to shut
the door, which was accomplished only by a lively chase,
while we made an inglorious retreat in the opposite direction
inspite of the printed “Caution” demanding “40 shillings
fine” for each such offense- Our fellow passenger, an innocent
youth booked for our destination, who had fallen asleep, jumped
up and struggled for his hat, asking if that was Windsor-

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