ssing of the fields,
and then the fiddles were taken down, for the hard work lasting well
into the evening made both men and women tired enough to go to bed
early, when their morning began in the twilight.

The orchards were abloom and sweetened all the air. The evergreens sent
out a resinous, pungent fragrance, the grass was odorous with the night
dews. The maypole was raised anew, for generally the winter winds
blowing fiercely over from the great western lake demolished it, though
they always let it stand as long as it would, and in the autumn again
danced about it. It had been the old French symbol of welcome and good
wishes to their Seigneurs, as well as to the spring. And now it was a
legend of past things and a merrymaking.

The pole had bunches of flowers tied here and there, and long streamers
that it was fun to jerk from some one's hand and let the wind blow them
away. Girls and youths did this to rivals, with mischievous laughter.

The habitans were in their holiday garb, which had hardly changed for
two hundred years except when it was put by for winter furs, clean blue
tunics, scarlet caps and sashes, deerskin breeches trimmed with yellow
or brown fringe, sometimes both, leggings and moccasins with bead
embroidery and brightly dyed threads.

There were shopkeepers, too, there were boatmen and Indians, and some of
the quality with their wives in satin and lace and gay brocades.
Soldiers as well in their military gear, and officers in buff and blue
with cocked hats and pompons.

The French girls had put on their holiday attire and some had festooned
a light skirt over one of cloth and placed in it a bright bow. Gowns
that were family heirlooms, never seeing day except on some festive
occasion, strings of beads, belts studded with wampum shells,
high-heeled shoes with a great buckle or bow, but not as easy to dance
in as moccasins.

Two years had brought more changes to the individual, or rather the
younger part of the community, than to the town. A few new houses had
been built, many old ones repaired and enlarged a little. The streets
were still narrow and many of them winding about. The greatest signs of
life were at the river's edge. The newer American emigrant came for land
and secured it outside. Every week some of the better class English who
were not in the fur trade went to Quebec or Montreal to be under their
own rulers.

There was not an entire feeling of security. Since Pontiac there had
b