SPRING 79 



tissue, from which these garnitures were 

 cut, were offered in the shops at a cent 

 apiece, as freely as toys at Christmas. 

 These sheets the maternal hand wrought 

 into marvelous roses, camelias, and other 

 blossoms that had no likeness to anything 

 on earth; but there was color, and the 

 effect was innocent and pretty. Now and 

 then one heard of dances about the May- 

 pole, and the garlands were of paper, too. 

 The only garlands I ever saw were made 

 of that. Yet, from the way the poets used 

 to talk about them, you might suppose 

 that flowers grew that way on every bush. 

 The sweet old day is gone. Perhaps Dec- 

 oration Day takes the place of it. It was 

 not very seasonable, anyway ; and a boy 

 with a wreath of flowers, upturned collar, 

 and red nose did not look entirely spring- 

 like. If the true allegory of New Eng- 

 land's May is ever painted, she will be 

 represented in a sealskin sack and a pair 

 of overshoes, with hothouse roses in her 

 hand. 



