For the fortieth time that afternoon, it seemed to Ethel Brown Morton
and her cousin, Ethel Blue, they untangled the hopelessly mixed
garlands of the maypole and started the weavers once more to lacing and
interlacing them properly.

"Under, over; under, over," they directed, each girl escorting a small
child in and out among the gay bands of pink and white which streamed
from the top of the pole.

May Day in New Jersey is never a certain quality; it may be reminiscent
of the North Pole or the Equator. This happened to be the hottest day
of the year so far, and both Ethels had wiped their foreheads until
their handkerchiefs were small balls too soaked to be of any further
use. But they kept on, for this was the first Community Maypole that
Rosemont ever had had, and the United Service Club, to which the girls
belonged, was doing its part to make the afternoon successful. Helen,
Ethel Brown's sister, and Margaret Hancock, another member of the Club,
were teaching the younger children a folk dance on the side of the
lawn; Roger Morton, James Hancock and Tom Watkins were marshalling a
group of boys and marching them back and forth across the end of the
grass plot nearest the schoolhouse. Delia Watkins, Tom's sister, and
Dorothy Smith, a cousin of the Mortons, were going about among the
mothers and urging them to let the little ones take part in the games.
Everybody was busy until dusk sent the small children home and the
caretaker came to uproot the pole and to shake his head ruefully over
the condition of the lawn whose smoothness had been roughened by the
tread of scores of dancing feet.

It was while the Club members were sitting on the Mortons' veranda,
resting, that Helen, who was president of the Club, called them to