t to you anon. But I tell you now briefly,"
he continued in a voice of thunder, calculated to reach those at a
distance, "that the ceremony is impious; that those who take part in it
are idolaters; and that those who look on and approve are participators
in the sin; yea, are equal in sin to the actors themselves."

Hereupon some murmurs of displeasure arose among the crowd, but they
were instantly checked by the curiosity generally felt to hear Aveline's
reply, which was delivered in clear and gentle, but distinct tones.

"Far be it from me to dispute with you, dear father," she said; "and it
is with reluctance that I offer an opinion at all adverse to your own.
But it seems to me impossible to connect these pastimes with heathenish
and superstitious rites; for though they may bear some resemblance to
ceremonials performed in honour of the goddesses Maia and Flora, yet,
such creeds being utterly forgotten, and their spirit extinct, it cannot
revive in sports that have merely reference to harmless enjoyment. Not
one, I am sure, of these worthy folk has the slightest thought of
impiety."

"You know not what you say, girl," the Puritan rejoined sharply. "The
evil spirit is _not_ extinct, and these growing abominations prove it to
be again raising its baleful crest to pollute and destroy. Listen to my
words, ye vain and foolish ones!" he continued, advancing to the front
of the window, and stretching forth his arms towards the assemblage.
"Repent! and amend your ways ere it be too late! Hew down the offensive
idol, which you term your May-pole, and cast it into the flames! Cease
your wanton sports, your noisy pipings, your profane dances, your filthy
tipplings. Hear what the prophet Isaiah saith:--'Wo to them that rise up
early in the morning, that they may follow strong drink.' And
again:--'Wo to the drunkards of Ephraim.' And I say Wo unto you also,
for you are like unto those drunkards. 'O do not this abominable thing
that my soul hateth.' Be not guilty of the brutish sin of drunkenness.
Reflect on the words of holy Job,--'They take the timbrel and harp, and
rejoice at the sound of the organ. They spend their days in mirth, and
in a moment go down, to the grave.' Hew down your idol I say again.
Consume it utterly, and scatter its ashes to the winds. Strip off the
gaudes and tinsel in which you have decked your foolish May Queen. Have
done with your senseless and profane mummeries; and dismiss your Robin
Hoods, your Fri