their minds
was the prettiest. It usually took both of the Little Women to sell a
thing. If one showed it, the other descanted upon its merits, or
wrapped it up in paper when the bargain was completed. Neither of them
appeared to transact any business, even to the disposal of "a pickle
lime" (as the children say), quite on her own responsibility.

After Abby had fully discussed the matter with them, therefore, she
bought her wreath. It was made of handsome white tissue-paper roses,
with green tissue-paper leaves, and had two long streamers. There was
another of pink roses, which she thought would be just the thing for
Larry to buy with the fifteen cents which he had received also. But
Larry had said:

"Pshaw! I wouldn't wear a wreath!" Abby didn't see why, because some
boys wore them.

On the way home she met a number of her playmates. Several of them
shivered in white dresses, and all were bareheaded except for their
paper wreaths. Not one of the wreaths was so fine as Abby's, however.
But, then, few little girls had fifteen cents to expend upon one. Abby
perceived at a glance that most of those worn by her companions were of
the ten-cent variety. The Little Women had them for eight; and even
five copper pennies would buy a very good one, although the roses of
the five-cent kind were pronounced by those most interested to be
"little bits of things."

Abby talked to the girls a while, and then went home to exhibit her
purchase. Her mother commented approvingly upon it; and the little
girl ran down to the kitchen to show it to Delia the cook, who had
lived with the family ever since Larry was a baby.

Delia was loud in her admiration.

"Oh, on this day they do have great doings in Ireland!" said she; "but
nowadays, to be sure, it's nothing to what it was in old times. It was
on May eve, I've heard tell, that St. Patrick lit the holy fire at
Tara, in spite of the ancient pagan laws. And in the days when the
country was known as the island of saints and of scholars, sure
throughout the length and breadth of the land the monastery bells rang
in the May with praises of the Holy Mother; and the canticles in her
honor were as ceaseless as the song of the birds. And 'twas the
fairies that were said to have great power at this season--"

"Delia, you know very well there are no fairies," interrupted Abby.

"Well, some foolish folk thought there were, anyhow," answered Delia.
"And in Maytide the children