d polished their high beavers anxiously against the sleeves of their
brightest broadcloth frock coats. In speckless kitchens housewives
prepared their cakes and cream, and the masters saw to the drawing of
the cider, and, perhaps, tasted it, to make sure that it had not soured
overnight. And in each heart different words were running to the Flora
Day tune, words that suited with each heart's measure. The children in
the streets sang aloud the doggerel words that long custom has fastened
upon the tune:--

_"John the beau was walking home,_
_When he met with Sally Dover,_
_He kissed her once, he kissed her twice,_
_And he kissed her three times over!"_

Thus the heedless children with their lips, but their little hearts
probably beat to the even simpler words: "_I'm having a holiday!
Having a holiday!_"

More staidly, and almost unheard by their time-muffled ears, a voice,
nevertheless, sang to the housewives, telling each her copper and silver
was the brightest in the town, and adding, perhaps, little gusts of
memory that half hurt, half pleased, of how nimbly she had danced at the
Flora in years gone by, and how fair she had looked....

The staid married men smiled to themselves, and would not have
acknowledged that within them something seemed to chuckle: "_I'm not
so old, after all; I'm not so old, after all_...."

Frankly, the hearts of the young men nudged hopefully against their
ribs, calling out: "_I'm going to dance with Her! I'm going to dance
with Her! And perhaps ... for I always was lucky! I always was
lucky_!"

But who shall say what lilting voice, timid-bold and sly-sincere,
whispered to the maidens, beating out its syllables against the new
stays so tightly laced for the occasion? Perhaps the words of the
children's doggerel, with a name or so altered, met the moment without
need of further change....

And Loveday's heart, as she walked the three miles from the fishing
village to Bugletown, sang to her of joy and hope and triumph.

When she reached the Market House, she found the band ready to strike up
the famous tune, while the mayor, his chain of office about his neck,
stood conversing with the ladies and gentlemen who were to lead the
dance. For, as is but fitting, the couples at the Flora follow each
other according to their social precedence, though all may join who
choose, providing only that the females, be they gentry or tradespeople,
wear white, and the men their best broadcl