(To the Editor of the Mirror.)
Three years ago you gave a pleasing illustration of "the Amusements of May," and at the same time lamented the decrease of village festivity and rural merriment, which in days langsyne cheered the honest hearts and lightened the daily toil of our rustic ancestors. From the sentiments you express on that occasion, I am led to fancy that it will afford you pleasure to hear that the song, the dance, and innocent revelry are not quite forgotten in some part of our land, and that the sweet and smiling spring is not suffered to make his lovely appearance without one welcome shout from the sons and daughters of our happy island; and, therefore, I will recount to you (and by your permission to the readers of the MIRROR) a village fête which I lately witnessed and enjoyed. On the 9th inst. (Whit-Tuesday), after a few miles' walk, I arrived in the village of Shillingston (Dorsetshire), whose inhabitants annually dedicate this day to those pastimes which (as one of your correspondents has observed) seem a sort of first offering to gentle skies, and are consecrated by the smiles of the tender year. Attracted by musical sounds, and following my ears instead of my nose, I soon found my way to the vicarage-house, where the company were just arriving in procession, preceded by a pink and white silken banner, while a pipe and tabor regulated their march. Next after the music were four men each bearing a large garland of flowers, and after them followed the merry lads and smiling lasses in good order and arrayed in their holiday kirtles. The vicar's house stands on a fine lawn commanding a most enchanting view. On this verdant carpet, after a promenade and general salute to their worthy pastor and his numerous guests, dancing took place; for the time all distinctions were laid aside, and the greatest gentry in the neighbourhood, taking the hand of their more humble neighbours, led them through the mazy dance with a feeling of kindness, friendship, and good humour such as I have seldom witnessed. Two or three hours of as beautiful an evening as ever zephyr kissed were thus spent, after which, drawing up before the house "the King" was given, with three times three; next came "God save the King," and then "Hurrah for the Bonnets o' Blue" led the party off in the order they came to witness the ceremony of "dressing" the May-Pole. About five hundred yards brought us to the elevated object on which was placed, with all due solemnity, the before-mentioned garlands, and the pole being considered fully dressed, we all adjourned to a large barn, where dancing was kept up with great spirit, until night drew her sable curtain over the scene, and the company retired with light hearts and weary feet to their peaceful homes.
Such, sir, is the Dorsetshire way of hailing the return of gentle skies and genial seasons; a custom of the olden time, which is productive of good feeling among all classes, and is at present conducted with good order and respectability.
Sturminster.
RURIS.
Old Poets.
CUPID'S ARROWS.
At Venus' entreaty for Cupid, her son,