be
only sportive Ellen knew.

At half-past seven they reassembled for breakfast, which Elsie and Will
took with their cousins. What a comparing of notes there was during
the meal! Teresa had been caught hanging a basket at her little
friend, Mollie Emerson's. Will's mother had seen him dodging round the
corner after fastening one on the front gate for her.

"O Joe! what did you do with that beautiful basket you arranged with so
much care,--the large one with the freshest flowers, I mean?" asked
Frances, with an ingenious air.

"Never mind!" answered Joe laconically, helping himself to another
glass of milk.

Everyone stole a knowing look at Ellen, without noticing that everyone
else was doing so; but that young lady imperturbably buttered a second
muffin, and studiously fixed her eyes on the tablecloth.

"Come, there is the Mass bell ringing!" called Mr. Moore from the hall.
A stampede followed. To be late for Mass on May-day would be
inexcusable.

Shortly afterward, our friends filed into the Moore's family pew in the
village church. As Joe knelt down he turned his gaze with a gentle,
happy expression to the Blessed Virgin's shrine. The next moment he
started, and cast a glance of pleased inquiry toward Ellen. His sister
smiled back at him, then bowed her head to recover her gravity.
Hanging from the altar-rail, directly before the statue of Our Lady,
was Joe's handsomest May-basket, just as he knew it would be; for he
had fastened it there himself the first thing in the morning. But
there also were five other pretty baskets,--the offering which each of
his sisters and cousins had made, unknown to one another. The pleasant
discovery created a momentary flutter in the pew, but that was
all--then.

So this was Ellen's surprise! Each silently admitted that it was a
good one. When they left the church, however, they had a merry time
over it.

"But, Ellen, how did you know what I was going to do with my basket?"
asked Joe at last.

"I didn't until I heard you humming the new May hymn which we learned
last Sunday," replied Ellen; "that reminded me of what mother said
about the old May customs. I wondered if you were thinking of this
too, and presently it all flashed upon me."

"Well, if you are not a true Yankee at guessing!" was his only answer.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir
by Mary Catherine Crowley

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK