are called “Mad Moll and her husband;” next came two men, one most fantastically dressed with ribbons, and a great variety of gaudy-coloured silk handkerchiefs tied round his arms, from the shoulders to the wrists, and down his thighs and legs to the ancles; he carried a drawn sword in his hand; leaning upon his arm was a youth dressed as a fine lady in white muslin, and profusely bedecked from top to toe with gay ribbons--these were called the “Lord and Lady” of the company; after these followed six or seven couples more, attired much in the same style as the lord and lady, only the men were without the swords. When this group received a satisfactory contribution at any house the music struck up from a violin, clarionet, and fife, accompanied by the long drum, and they began the merry dance. While the dancers were merrily footing it the principal amusement to the populace was caused by the grimaces and clownish tricks of Mad Moll and her husband. When the circle of spectators became so contracted as to interrupt the dancers, then Mad Moll’s husband went to work with his broom, and swept the road-dust, all round the circle, into the faces of the crowd, and when any pretended affronts were offered to his wife, he pursued the offenders, broom in hand; if he could not overtake them, whether they were males or females, he flung his broom at them. These flights and pursuits caused an abundance of merriment. The _Mayer’s Song_ is a composition, or rather a medley of great antiquity, and is as follows:-- “Remember us poor mayers all. And thus do we begin To lead our lives in righteousness, Or else we die in sin. We have been rambling all this night, And almost all this day, And now returned back again We have brought you a branch of May. A branch of May we have brought you, And at your door it stands, It is but a sprout, but it’s well budded out By the work of our Lord’s hands. The hedges and trees they are so green, As green as any leek, Our Heavenly Father, he watered them With his heavenly dew so sweet. The heavenly gates are open wide, Our paths are beaten plain, And if a man be not too far gone, He may return again. The life of man is but a span, It flourishes like a flower; We are here to day, and gone to-morrow, And are dead in an hour. The moon shines bright, and the stars give a light A little before it is day. So God bless you all, both great and small, And send you a joyful May.” HUNTINGDONSHIRE. In the village of Glatton, May-day is observed by the election of Queen of the May, and the making of the garland.