262 CHAPTER XXXV. 



even as early as the 2nd, the Fire Flie* (Fig. 96) light 

 their little lanterns in the damp and shady spots, and 

 before long they flit about in countless multitudes, 

 making the evening hours bewilderingly beautiful. 

 " Veritables ^tincelles vivantes, elles voltigent le soir 

 autour des buissons, et presentent un charmant 

 spectacle." The cherries ripen ; the peasants say 

 that " the fireflies turn the cherries red." 



On all sides song is heard and sounds of gladness, 

 for " the flowers have appeared on the earth, and the 

 time of singing is come, and the cooing of the turtle- 

 dove is heard in the land " (Sol. Song ii. 12). 



We speak of " merry England," but what do the 

 Northern people know of merriment ? The Provencal 

 might still say of them as the French queen does in 

 Schiller's play : 



" Ihr kennt nicht das Vergniigen, nur die Wuth !" 



Here every village has its garlands hung across 

 the " Place," and every street has flowers festooned 

 from house to house. On Sunday evenings all through 

 the merry month of May, the young folk dance round 

 and round under these garlands of flowers, and sing and 

 laugh until the air resounds with their rejoicing,and one 

 almost forgets, as one looks on, that toil and sin and 

 misery exist. This is the Mois de Marie, the bright 

 and happy month sacred, as is meet and right, to 

 Mary or Maia or Diana the sweet Virgin, type of 

 womanhood and Queen of Heaven. 



It may be true, as Canon Hole asserts in " Nice 

 and her Neighbours," that these festive people are 

 the slaves of a childish superstition. But I hope 

 that the day may be far distant when a dry and 



