rried her in, set her
down before a hot coal fire, and tried to warm her red hands. Her little
companions came and stood beside her, and told her not to cry; but, oh!
she was so cold, and "the tops of her fingers did ache so!"

And this was going a Maying! But yet, next year, these very girls, I
doubt not, will start with just as buoyant hearts for May-day sports,
forgetful of the fall, the cold, and all inconveniences. Ah, childhood's
hopeful heart is a blessed thing!

I well remember now a May-day of by-gone years. Then we had a queen, a
tent, and a table set with numberless delicacies. We had rare sport that
day. The weather was not as cold as the day of which I have been
speaking; we had a few _real_ flowers, and some hardy girls even
appeared in white dresses. The forenoon passed pleasantly; numerous
visitors thronged to see us, and we were the happiest of all May-day
revellers. But all pleasure must have an end. Soon word came that we
must surrender the sails of our tent, for the owner had need thereof.
This caused a general _strike_, and, in the confusion which ensued, a
boy had the misfortune to sit or fall upon the queen's straw bonnet,
which had been laid aside for her flowery crown. It was literally
smashed, unfit for further use. "Ah what will mother say?" was all the
disappointed queen could say. Some few laughed at the queer, misshapen
thing, but more looked on with sad countenances, for it was the queen's
best bonnet.

We separated, tired, and, it may be, a little out of humor; but yet, a
few days made everything bright again; we remembered the pleasure with
pleasure, and thought of the disappointments only to laugh over them.

And that bent, spoiled bonnet! When the ex-queen appeared in a fine new
one, with gay ribbons, many looked on, and almost wished that they had
been so fortunate as to have had their bonnets spoiled.

As I look back, other May-days throng upon my mind. The memories of some
of these are sad, yea, very sad! One was the birth-day of a little one
who now rests beneath the green sod. And well do I remember another
bright May morning, when I wandered out over the hill, holding the hand
of a little fair-haired child within my own. Her tiny basket was filled
with flowers the children had given her, and her bright, sunny face was
radiant with smiles. That was her first May-day walk, and much did the
little being enjoy it.

It was her last! Ere the spring breezes came again, she lay wit