teach him how! And there is Master Brackett, the
old jailer, nodding and smiling at me. Why does he do so, mother?"

"He remembers thee a little babe, my child," answered Hester.

"He should not nod and smile at me, for all that,--the black, grim,
ugly-eyed old man!" said Pearl. "He may nod at thee, if he will; for
thou art clad in gray, and wearest the scarlet letter. But see,
mother, how many faces of strange people, and Indians among them, and
sailors! What have they all come to do, here in the market-place?"

"They wait to see the procession pass," said Hester. "For the Governor
and the magistrates are to go by, and the ministers, and all the great
people and good people, with the music and the soldiers marching
before them."

"And will the minister be there?" asked Pearl. "And will he hold out
both his hands to me, as when thou ledst me to him from the
brook-side?"

"He will be there, child," answered her mother. "But he will not greet
thee to-day; nor must thou greet him."

"What a strange, sad man is he!" said the child, as if speaking partly
to herself. "In the dark night-time he calls us to him, and holds thy
hand and mine, as when we stood with him on the scaffold yonder. And
in the deep forest, where only the old trees can hear, and the strip
of sky see it, he talks with thee, sitting on a heap of moss! And he
kisses my forehead, too, so that the little brook would hardly wash it
off! But here, in the sunny day, and among all the people, he knows us
not; nor must we know him! A strange, sad man is he, with his hand
always over his heart!"

"Be quiet, Pearl! Thou understandest not these things," said her
mother. "Think not now of the minister, but look about thee, and see
how cheery is everybody's face to-day. The children have come from
their schools, and the grown people from their workshops and their
fields, on purpose to be happy. For, to-day, a new man is beginning to
rule over them; and so--as has been the custom of mankind ever since a
nation was first gathered--they make merry and rejoice; as if a good
and golden year were at length to pass over the poor old world!"

It was as Hester said, in regard to the unwonted jollity that
brightened the faces of the people. Into this festal season of the
year--as it already was, and continued to be during the greater part
of two centuries--the Puritans compressed whatever mirth and public
joy they deemed allowable to human infirmity; thereby so far
disp