hill covered with a wood. "On the
other side of this hill," said he, "we shall find them." In a very
few minutes the children were all there. There they saw a warm,
sunny hollow; through it ran a little brook, and all around were
massive rocks and pretty nooks; and there were the birds singing
loudly, and there were cowslips, and anemones, and houstonias, and
violets, and all in great profusion. The boy who had insulted Harry
hung back ashamed. Harry quietly said to him, "Here, under this
little tree, is a beautiful bed of violets, and there are anemones."
Harry tasted of the pleasure of doing good for evil. The boy who had
defended him walked by him, and talked kindly to him. "How good it
was in you to show us the flowers!" said the little girl who had
taken Harry's hand, and whose apron he had filled with flowers. How
happy now was poor Harry!

All the children gathered that morning as many flowers as they
desired. Some carried home only perishable earthly flowers in their
hands; others, immortal flowers in their hearts. The village
children went to their dance, and were very happy. Harry spent the
rest of the day and the evening in his mother's cottage, alone with
her, and amused himself with making wreaths of his flowers. But he
said he had never passed so happy a May-day. A loving heart, like
Una's beauty, 'can make a sunshine in a shady place.'"

The clouds had now passed away. One of the boys proposed to pass a
vote of thanks to the old barn, for the hospitable shelter it had
afforded during the shower. This was received and passed with
acclamations. Frank and Lizzy, or rather the king and queen of the
May, declared that they had no thanks to offer to the old barrel or
the milk stool. It was too wet to go into the woods again; so they
formed a procession, and with their flowers in their hands, and
such music as they had, returned gayly home.

The children all enjoyed the dance in the evening; but there were
some hearts there, young and merry as they were, that made a solemn
vow never to forget those of whom they had heard that day,--"them
that are in bonds."

It is New Year's eve. Frank and Harry are sitting with their mother
by the pleasant fireside. The boys were full of chat, but their
mother was looking fixedly into the fire, and had been silent for a
long time. She was thinking of the past; they, of what was to come.

"Mother," said Harry, "will you tell me tonight what my new year's
gift will be?"