ITTLE MAY is Toots' own cousin, and one of the dearest little girls you ever knew!

She is a tender-hearted child, and, like Toots, very fond of pets. Once on a cold winter day she found a poor little dead bird which the snow storm of the night before had killed. She brought it to cousin Toots, and together they buried it under a snowbank in the garden. One night during the "Happy Hour" May said "I wish you wrote some truly verses about me, dear auntie," and the very next night auntie did, and here they are:

In the early summer light,

Trampling down the red and white,

Eating clover, sweet and fair,

Happy child with floating hair;

Not a thought of injured hay.

That's our darling,

That's our May.

In the garret, on the stair,

Climbing haymows, everywhere;

Wearing glasses, teaching school,

Bringing dollies up by rule,

Working hard to call it play,

That's our darling,

That's our May.

Original

In the parlor, on the floor,

Looking all the pictures o'er;

Making fun of grave old books,

Searching into sacred nooks—

Always cheerful, always gay.

That's our darling,

That's our May.

At the door, the first to see

Papa, as he comes to tea,

In his lap, with dancing eyes,

Searching pockets for a prize,

Asking "what you've done all day?"

That's our darling,

That's our May.

In the chamber just at night,

Nestled in her gown of white;

Eyelids closed on cheeks of red,

Kneeling by her little bed,

Lisping "teach me how to pray."

That's our darling,

That's our May.

Future woman, what maybe

Life with all its cares to thee?

Who shall say in after time,

Blessings on that head of thine?

Rich and good thy life we pray,

God's and ours,

Dear little May.