THE MAY-FLOWERS. 
It was May morning. Mary, like all other little 
girls, was lip as early as the dawn began to steal 
over the sky, and long before the sun climbed the 
eastern hills. Every one who loves flowers and 
gicen fields, loves to go Maying. Even if the clouds 
are dark and the cold ram-drops are beginning to fall, 
there seems to be sunshine in the grass,—for it is 
May-day. The Queen of the Spring has called all 
hei flowers, and their bright faces are gleaming from 
every nook. 
Sometimes May mornings will be cold, but this 
