to come to the rescue!  But first of all they must rush to the woods and fields in search of flowers and branches, for the town had to be decorated before the more imposing part of the ceremonies began.  Meantime the bandsmen were busy devouring a good breakfast, for bandsmen’s appetites are proverbial.  Perhaps they are the only class of men who play while they work and work while they play.  In any case, after breakfast they sauntered round the town talking to the girls until the auspicious hour arrived when they had to assemble in the market square to head the procession of the notables of the town dressed in all kinds of costumes, from that of William the Conqueror onwards.  My brother was anxious to know what quickstep they played, and if it was “Havelock’s Quick March”; but our friend said it was not a quickstep at all, but something more like a hornpipe.  Was it the College or the Sailor’s Hornpipe?  It was neither, was the reply, as it had to be played slowly, for the people danced to it while they marched in the procession, and occasionally twirled their partners round; and then after some further ceremonies they separated and all the people began to dance both in the streets and through the houses, going in at one door and out at another, if there was one, tumbling about and knocking things over, and then out in the street again, and if not satisfied with their partners, changing them, and off again, this kind of enjoyment lasting for hours.  Sometimes, if a man-of-war happened to be in the neighbourhood, the sailors came, who were the best dancers of the lot, as they danced with each other and threw their legs about in a most astonishing fashion, a practice they were accustomed to when aboard ship.

There were also shows and sometimes a circus, and the crowds that came from the country were astonishing.  Now and then there was a bit of a row, when some of them had “a drop o’ drink,” but the police were about, and not afraid to stop their games by making free use of their staves; this, however, was the shady side of the great “Flurry” day.

Meantime every one had learned the strange dance-tune by heart, which our friend whistled for us, whereby we could tell it had come down from remote times.  Indeed, it was said that these rejoicings were originally in memory of the victory of the great Michael over the Devil, and no one thought of suggesting a more modern theory than that the “Flurry” was a survival of the Floralia observed by the Romans on the fourth of the Calends of May in honour of Flora, the Goddess of Flowers.

The very mention of the names of band and hornpipe was too much for my brother, who could not resist giving the Cornishman a few samples of the single and double shuffle in the College Hornpipe, and one or two movements from a Scotch Reel, but as I was no dancer myself, I had no means of judging the quality of his performances.  I kept a respectful distance away, as sometimes his movements were very erratic,