church," replied Ellen; "but hanging
May-baskets is another thing altogether--"

"That is where the fun and frolic come in," interrupted Joe, looking up
from the miniature boat which he was whittling out with his jackknife.

"You see," explained Ellen, "the afternoon before we make up a party,
and go on a long jaunt up hill and down dale, through the woods and
over the meadows, picking all the spring blossoms we can find.
Finally, we come home with what we have succeeded in getting, and put
them in water to keep fresh for the following day. Then what an
excitement there is hunting up baskets for them! Tiny ones are best,
because with them you can make the flowers go farther. Strawberry
baskets--the old-fashioned ones with a handle--are nice, especially if
you paint or gild them. Burr baskets are pretty too; and those made of
fir cones. Joe has a knack of putting such things together. He made
some elegant ones for me last year."

"Are you trying to kill two birds with one stone?" asked her brother,
with a laugh. "Your compliment is also a hint that you would like me
to do the same now, I suppose?"

"I never kill birds," rejoined Ellen, taking the literal meaning of his
words, for the purpose of chaffing him. "Nor do you; for you told me
the other day you did not understand how some boys could be so cruel."

"No, but you do not mind their being killed if you want their wings for
your hat," continued Joe, in a bantering tone.

"Not at all," said Ellen, triumphantly. "In future I am going to wear
only ribbons and artificial flowers on my _chapeau_. I have joined the
Society for the Prevention of the Destruction of the Native Birds of
America."

"Whew!" ejaculated Joe, with a prolonged whistle. "What a name! I
should think that by the time you got to the end of it you'd be so old
that you wouldn't care any more for feathers and fixings. I suppose it
is a good thing though," he went on, more seriously. "It is just as
cruel to kill birds for the sake of fashion as it is for the
satisfaction of practising with a sling; only you girls have somebody
to do it for you; and you don't think about it, because you can just
step into a store and buy the plumes--"

"But what about the May-baskets?" protested Frances, disappointed at
the digression.

"Oh, I forgot!" said Ellen. "Bright and early May-morning almost every
boy and girl in the village is up and away. The plan is to hang a
basket of wild flowers at t