at all hours of the day and night scampering about the place, or
kicking up his heels by moonlight, for he was a desperate poacher.

Jill took great delight in her pretty pensioners, who soon learned to
love "The Holly Tree Inn," and to feel that the Bird Room held a caged
comrade; for, when it was too cold or wet to open the windows, the doves
came and tapped at the pane, the chippies sat on the ledge in plump
little bunches as if she were their sunshine, the jays called her in
their shrill voices to ring the dinner-bell, and the robins tilted on
the spruce boughs where lunch was always to be had.

The first of May came on Sunday, so all the celebrating must be done on
Saturday, which happily proved fair, though too chilly for muslin gowns,
paper garlands, and picnics on damp grass. Being a holiday, the boys
decided to devote the morning to ball and the afternoon to the flower
hunt, while the girls finished the baskets; and in the evening our
particular seven were to meet at the Minots to fill them, ready for the
closing frolic of hanging on door-handles, ringing bells, and running
away.

"Now I must do my Maying, for there will be no more sunshine, and I want
to pick my flowers before it is dark. Come, Mammy, you go too," said
Jill, as the last sunbeams shone in at the western window where her
hyacinths stood that no fostering ray might be lost.

It was rather pathetic to see the once merry girl who used to be the
life of the wood-parties now carefully lifting herself from the couch,
and, leaning on her mother's strong arm, slowly take the half-dozen
steps that made up her little expedition. But she was happy, and stood
smiling out at old Bun skipping down the walk, the gold-edged clouds
that drew apart so that a sunbeam might give her a good-night kiss as
she gathered her long-cherished daisies, primroses, and hyacinths to
fill the pretty basket in her hand.

"Who is it for, my dearie?" asked her mother, standing behind her as
a prop, while the thin fingers did their work so willingly that not a
flower was left.

"For My Lady, of course. Who else would I give my posies to, when I love
them so well?" answered Jill, who thought no name too fine for their
best friend.

"I fancied it would be for Master Jack," said her mother, wishing the
excursion to be a cheerful one.

"I've another for him, but _she_ must have the prettiest. He is going to
hang it for me, and ring and run away, and she won't know who it's fr