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Show Xittlc XoveCITTLE LOVE sat high up in the tree making arrows. He was always making arrows. Dorothy May walked in the garden picking flowers. She was always picking flowers. His head was golden as the morning's sun, her's the deeper hue of evening's glow. It was like ye olden tales-This maiden fair Of beauty rare Among the trees and flowers; With Cupid near And naught to fearThrough all the summer hours.Her father often called her Princess May. But she was not a real princess waiting for the prince of fairyland to come and claim her. She lived in a pretty home on the side of a hill with her father and mother. They loved her dearly, and Dorothy May was very happy. She helped her mother with the work each day-washing dishes just like other girls, and sweeping floors-without gloves, too.But the afternoons-Oh! the joy of being in God's great outdoors, breathing with the flowers, dancing with the butterflies, singing with the birds, and talking with Little Love. He told her stories that she loved to hear. "Some day," he said, "someone would come and take her away from mother and father and"-but no, Little Love would be with her alwaysif she would do what he told her. But if she didn't heed his words she would never see him again and would not be happy. How Dorothy May would laugh. "What a queer creature you are, Little Love. I'm happy out here with you, and I'm happy in there with mother. Why shouldn't I be happy wherever I go?" And she would dance around the tree andsing."I'm happy here, I'm happy there, Oh! I'd be happy everywhere."Then Little Love would shake his head and sigh-"Be very careful, Dorothy May, And always do as Love doth say."But Dorothy May was too full of the joy of youth to notice his worried looks. The summer was beautiful, and she enjoyed each day's work and play as it came, not thinking of168 |