notice that the May-pole was reared on the green, and to invite the
household to witness the sports. The Hall, according to custom, became a
scene of hurry and delightful confusion. The servants were all agog with
May and music; and there was no keeping either the tongues or the feet
of the maids quiet, who were anticipating the sports of the green, and
the evening dance.

I repaired to the village at an early hour to enjoy the merry-making.
The morning was pure and sunny, such as a May morning is always
described. The fields were white with daisies, the hawthorn was covered
with its fragrant blossoms, the bee hummed about every bank, and the
swallow played high in the air about the village steeple. It was one of
those genial days when we seem to draw in pleasure with the very air we
breathe, and to feel happy we know not why. Whoever has felt the worth
of worthy man, or has doted on lovely woman, will, on such a day, call
them tenderly to mind, and feel his heart all alive with long-buried
recollections. "For thenne," says the excellent romance of King Arthur,
"lovers call ageyne to their mynde old gentilnes and old servyse, and
many kind dedes that were forgotten by neglygence."

Before reaching the village, I saw the May-pole towering above the
cottages, with its gay garlands and streamers, and heard the sound of
music. I found that there had been booths set up near it, for the
reception of company; and a bower of green branches and flowers for the
Queen of May, a fresh, rosy-cheeked girl of the village.

A band of morris-dancers were capering on the green in their fantastic
dresses, jingling with hawks' bells, with a boy dressed up as Maid
Marian, and the attendant fool rattling his box to collect contributions
from the bystanders. The gipsy women, too, were already plying their