account
of the life of Jesus. Study these books, and by them be made wise. Above
all, remember the precept of John, "Little children, love one another."

[Illustration]

MAY-DAY.

BY MRS. NANCY T. MUNROE.

It is spring,--a backward spring, it is true, for now it is the first
week in May, and not a flower to be seen except the yellow dandelion,
not a blossom even on a cherry tree; nothing is green but the grass, and
that--yes, that is very green, especially this piece before my window;
it seems a relief to look upon it.

Poor May-day revellers! May-day this year was pleasant; that is, the sun
shone, the sky was blue, and the grass was green, in spots at least; but
the cold north wind was blowing, and one needed to be told it was the
first of May.

The sun was higher than usual on such occasions, when the children came
upon our hill;--yet they did come with wreaths and May-poles, but, ah!
the flowers were artificial. Some of the children had on sun-bonnets and
thin shawls; they should have worn hoods and cloaks, and then they might
have been comfortable. But it takes a great deal to discourage children
from going "Maying."

Our hill is a famous place for children on May-day, for it is green and
pleasant; it is glorious to run down its sides, and pleasant to sit on
its banks, which once were forts, and behind which, in less peaceful
days, lurked soldiers with weapons of war. Ah, those children were a
pleasant sight, and as I heard their glad laughter, and saw them chase
each other down those green banks, I said, Peace is better than war.

"Please, ma'am, will you tell me what time it is?" said a little girl,
coming forward from one group of children.

"Quarter of nine," was the reply.

"I didn't think it was so late; did you?" said she, turning to her
companions. They had been out perhaps two hours, and thought it was most
noon, and back they went to their sports.

Soon I heard a sound of weeping. I went to the door, where stood a group
of children around the pump; one poor shivering child, looking blue and
cold, was having her hands and face washed by another, with water cold
from the pump, the tears streaming down her cheeks, and she sobbing
piteously.

"What is the matter, little girl?"

"Oh," said the one who was performing the washing operation, "she fell
from the top of the hill to the bottom, and made her nose bleed and hurt
her dreadfully."

The poor child still sobbed and shivered. We ca