Meanwhile, the royal couple were happy and contented in their domestic life. When they were at Kew they rose at six-o'clock, and spent a couple of hours doing exactly as they pleased, undisturbed by business of any sort, and untrammelled by ceremony. At eight o'clock there was a lively family breakfast, at which the sovereigns were surrounded by their children, who at this meal were permitted to chatter freely. This was a privilege, for in public they were taught to be silent, and it was at this time in the day that parents and children became best acquainted with each other. The king was so fond of riding that he passed much time between breakfast and dinner on horseback, and even went in the rain sometimes in this manner to attend a council meeting at St. James's. {163} [Illustration: 0169] {165}Queen Charlotte, and often the king too, presided at the children's early dinner; and every week there was a family excursion to Richmond Gardens, where, while the young people played, the queen would do some needle-work, and his majesty would read aloud to her, generally from Shakespeare. In this pleasant manner the children of George III. and Charlotte passed their early lives; and, as the Prince of Wales and his brother of York grew older, they had a piece of ground in the garden at Kew, which they cultivated with their own hands. There they sowed wheat, attended the growth of their little crop, weeded and gathered it all by themselves. They even went further: for they threshed the grain, ground it, and attended the whole process of making it into bread, which was eaten by the royal family with great relish. The Duke of York was a very little boy when he was found one day in the cottage of one of the villagers, who lived near Kew, seated on a low stool shelling peas, his occupation being shared by a pretty little fair-haired girl, with whom he fancied he was very much in love. He was closely watched after that, and not permitted to run after rustic beauties any more. Queen Charlotte and George III. both patronized art, though they were rather deficient in taste. A charter was granted to the society of artists, and Joshua Reynolds, its first president, was knighted, though the king preferred the paintings of some less gifted artists. Benjamin West, who succeeded Sir Joshua as president of the society, was such a favorite that in the course of thirty years he painted sixty-four pictures for George III., and received a very liberal sum of money for them. Once, when a picture by Wilson, which had been ordered for the royal collection, was shown to the king, he exclaimed: "Hey! What! Do you call _this painting?_ Take it away; I call it daubing! {166}Hey--what!--'T is a mere daub!" He then inquired what Wilson expected for his work; and, on being told a hundred guineas, he declared it was the dearest picture he ever saw: "Too much,--too much," added his majesty; "tell him I say so."