And May herself, with a dimple and curl
The Journeying Man swept off his green hat when he caught sight of May.
“I knew you’d be here,” he said. “May I tell my two young companions how the joyful animals welcomed you when you came?”
May smiled at Amos and Ann. “How did you know?” she asked J. M.
“I saw it all,” was the answer. “I was passing through the wood one day—”
The Journeying Man was interrupted here by a clock striking ten, and so he was obliged to dash into rhyme:—
“One day the cheery wood-folk heard
A robin tell another bird
A piece of news, a joyful word
Repeated often over.
‘Oho,’ said they, ‘we’ll plan a way
To welcome back our pretty May.
We’ll have a celebration day
To show her how we love her.’
“Professor Bear should speak, they planned,
With Dr. Fox upon the stand;
The bird quintette from Mapleville
Would sing its loveliest;
And Mr. Owl, the baritone,
Should give selections of his own;
And all the rabbit girls and boys
Should wear their very best.
“The day was fair with balmy air,
And banners waving everywhere;
The woolliest lamb, all curled and frilled,
Was sent to meet the guest;
And even little rats and things,
And creatures that had only wings,
Were given tiny parts to play,
And waited with the rest.
“Then, tripping light and skipping light
And laughing clear, a happy sight,
And flinging flowers left and right,
Came merry, merry May.
‘Oh, welcome, welcome home!’ they cried;
The banners dipped on every side.
She curtsied low, ‘Just think,’ she said,
‘I have a month to stay!’”