ldren if they had ever heard of the Mayday ball which is given
every year to the children in Washington. "No," was the answer. She
said she had been at one, and she would tell all about it.

"It is held in a large public hall, decorated for the purpose. All
the children in Washington and Georgetown are invited to attend; all
have an equal right to go, ignorant and educated, poor and rich; no
matter how poor, if the girls can get a neat white frock, and the
boys a decent dress, they are all admitted; every one wears a wreath
of flowers, or has a bouquet in his hand or bosom. The children
assemble very early, and dance as much as they please, to the music
of a fine band, and all partake of some simple refreshment, provided
for them, before they return home. They number often over a
thousand, and as they are all moving together to the music, they
look like a dancing flower garden. I said all the children, rich and
poor, in Washington. I wish it were so; but there are many poor
children who are never invited to this festival. No one dresses one
of them in a nice white frock on May morning, and puts a wreath of
flowers on her head, and a nosegay in her hands, and says to her,
'Go, dance, sing, and rejoice with the other children in God's
beautiful world.'"

"Why not?" asked the listening children.

"They are slaves--they are negroes!" replied Mrs. Chilton.

"It is a shame; it is wicked," cried Frank and Harry, and all the
rest.

"When you are men and women," said Mrs. Chilton, "you may do much
for the poor slaves. Remember them then, and do not forget them now.
All can do something for them, even little children.

Now I will tell you a story that was related to me by a gentlemen
who knew it to be true. I knew, he said, a little boy, who was one
of the best little fellows that ever lived. He was gentle and kind
to his companions, obedient to his parents, good to all. His home
was in a small country village, but he was very fond of wandering
into the neighboring fields, when his tasks were all over. There, if
he saw a young bird that had fallen to the ground before it could
fly, he would pick it up gently, and put it back in its nest. I have
often seen him step aside, lest he should tread on an anthill, and
thus destroy the industrious little creatures' habitation. If a
child smaller than he was carrying a heavy bundle or basket, Harry
would always offer to help him. Was any one hurt, or unhappy, Harry
was quick to giv