l to thinking how lovely the May-pole would look
in its gala dress of green, red, yellow and white.

"It will be wearing a rainbow skirt, like all the girls in the village,"
she thought; and surprised her grandmother by smiling in the midst of the
sermon, at the thought of how very tall this Maypole maiden would be.

The May-pole is always the tallest, slenderest tree that can be found,
and the one which Gerda and Karen had helped to decorate was at least
sixty feet from base to tip. It had been brought from the forest by the
young men of the village, and trimmed of its bark and branches until it
looked like the mast of a vessel. Hoops and crosspieces reaching out in
every direction were fastened to the pole, and it was then decorated with
flowers, streamers, garlands and tiny flags.

Now it was leaning against the platform in the village green, not far
from the church, where it was to be raised after the service.

When Gerda and Karen reached the green they found a group of young people
gathered about the pole, tying strings of gilded hearts, festoons of
colored papers, and fluttering banners to its yard-arms.

"Now it is ready to be raised!" shouted Nils Jorn at last, and everybody
fell away to make room for the men who were to draw it into its place
with ropes and tackle.

"Suppose it should break!" gasped Karen, and held her breath while it
rose slowly in the air. As it settled into the deep hole prepared for it,
Nils Jorn waved his cap and shouted. Then some one else shouted, and soon
everybody was shouting and dancing, and the festival of the green leaf
had begun.

All day and all night the fun ran high, with singing and dancing and
feasting.

When there was a lull in the merriment, it was because a long procession
had formed to accompany the bride and bridegroom to the church. After the
ceremony was over, and the same procession had accompanied them to the
shore of the lake, some one called out, "Now let us choose a queen and
crown her, and carry her back to the May-pole where she shall decide who
is the best dancer."

Oh, it was a hard moment for many of them then, for every maiden hoped
that she would be the one to be chosen. But Nils Jorn caught sight of
Gerda's merry smile, and nodded toward her.

"Gerda Ekman has seen plenty of dancing in Stockholm," he said. "Let her
be our queen."

"Yes, yes!" shouted the others; and for a moment it looked as if Gerda
would, indeed, have her wish to wear a cro