Elsie. All the vases together wouldn’t half hold ’em.
Flora. Then I’d put them in my little crib, and have them for my bed.
Elsie. Margery wouldn’t spread her white sheets on such a bed as that.
Flora. But I could take flowers for bed-clothes, and smell them all night. Oh! what a—(stops suddenly, and listens). I hear music. Hark! (Music heard faintly, as if afar off.) O Elsie! they’re coming, they’re coming! Hark! don’t you hear the singing?
Elsie. Yes (looking in the direction of the music): they’re marching this way.
(Singing comes gradually nearer, until the chorus is heard outside. Enter a procession of girls and boys, blind fiddler following. Boys are dressed in white trousers, with bright or striped jackets, flowers at the button-hole; girls in white, with garlands. All march round the stage, singing; then either eight or sixteen of them form a circle for dancing the May-dance. At intervals, in some pretty figure, the dancers pause, and sing a May-song, in which all join. Dancing ends with a march, which is interrupted by a girl rushing in from the show.)
Song (briskly, to “The Poacher’s Song,” or any lively tune).
We come, we come, with dance and song,
With hearts and voices gay;
We come, we come, a happy throng;