William was frankly bored. School always bored him. He disliked facts, and he disliked being tied down to detail, and he disliked answering questions. As a politician a great future would have lain before him. William attended a mixed school because his parents hoped that feminine influence might have a mellowing effect upon his character. As yet the mellowing was not apparent. He was roused from his day-dreams by a change in the voice of Miss Dewhurst, his form mistress. It was evident that she was not talking about the exports of England (a subject in which William took little interest) any longer.  
"Children," she said brightly. "I want to have a little May Queen for the first of May. The rest of you must be her courtiers. I want you all to vote to-morrow. Put down on a piece of paper the name of the little girl you think would make the sweetest little Queen, and the rest of you shall be her swains and maidens."
 
"We're goin' to have a May Queen," remarked William to his family at dinner, "an' I'm goin' to be a swain."
 
His interest died down considerably when he discovered the meaning of the word swain.
 
"Isn't it no sort of animal at all?" he asked indignantly.
 
"Well, I'm not going to be in it, then," he said when he heard that it was not.
 
The next morning Evangeline Fish began to canvass for votes methodically. Evangeline Fish was very fair, and was dressed always in that shade of blue that shrieks aloud to the heavens and puts the skies to shame. She was considered the beauty of the form.
 
"I'll give you two bull's eyes if you'll vote for me," she said to William.
 
"Two!" said William with scorn.
 
"Six," she bargained.
 
"All right," he said, "you can give me six bull's eyes if you want. There's nothing to stop you givin' me six bull's eyes if you want, is there? Not that I know of."
 
"But you'll have to promise to put down my name on the paper if I give you six bull's eyes," she said suspiciously.
 
"All right," said William. "I can easy promise that."
 
Whereupon she handed over the six bull's eyes. William returned one as being under regulation size, and waited frowning till she replaced it by a larger one.
 
"Now, you've promised," said Evangeline Fish. "They'll make you ill an' die if you break your promise on them."
 
William kept his promise with true political address. He wrote "E. Fish—I don't think!" on his voting paper and his vote was disqualified. But Evangeline Fish was elected May Queen by an overwhelming majority. She was, after all, the beauty of the form and she always wore blue. And now she was to be May Queen. Her prestige was established for ever. "Little angel," murmured the elder girls. The small boys fought for her favours. William began to dislike her intensely. Her voice, and her smile, and her ringlets, and her blue dress began to jar upon his nerves. And when anything began to jar on William's nerves something always happened.
 
It was not till about a week later that he noticed Bettine Franklin. Bettine was small and dark. There was nothing "angelic" about her. William had noticed her vaguely in school before and had hardly looked upon her as a distinct personality. But one recreation in the playground he stood leaning against the wall by himself, scowling at Evangeline Fish. She was surrounded by a crowd of admirers, and was prattling to them artlessly in her angelic voice.
 
"I'm going to be dressed in white muslin with a blue sash. Blue suits me, you know. I'm so fair." She tossed back a ringlet. "One of you will have to hold my train and the rest must dance round me. I'm going to have a crown and—" She turned round in order to avoid the scowling gaze of William in the distance. William had discovered that his scowl annoyed her, and since then had given it little rest. But there was no satisfaction in scowling at the back of her well-curled head, so he relaxed his scowl and let his gaze wander round the playground. And it fell upon Bettine. Bettine was also standing by herself and gazing at Evangeline Fish. But she was not scowling. She was looking at Evangeline Fish with wistful envy. For Evangeline Fish was "angelic" and a May Queen, and she was neither of these things. William strolled over and lolled against the wall next to her.
 
"'Ullo!" he said, without looking at her, for this change of position had brought him again within range of Evangeline Fish's eye, and he was once more simply one concentrated scowl.
 
"'Ullo," murmured Bettine shyly and politely.
 
"You like pink rock?" was William's next effort.
 
"Um," said Bettine, nodding emphatically.
 
"I'll give you some next time I buy some," said William munificently, "but I shan't be buying any for a long time," he added bitterly, "'cause an ole ball slipped out my hands on to our dining-room window before I noticed it yesterday."
 
She nodded understandingly.
 
"I don't mind!" she said sweetly. "I'll like you jus' as much if you don't ever give me any rock."
 
William blushed.
 
"I di'n't know you liked me," he said.
 
"I do," she said fervently. "I like your face an' I like the things you say."
 
William had forgotten to scowl. He was one flaming mixture of embarrassment and delight. He plunged his hands into his pockets and brought out two marbles, a piece of clay, and a broken toy gun.
 
"You can have 'em all," he said in reckless generosity.
 
"You keep 'em for me," said Bettine sweetly.
 
"I hope you dance next me at the Maypole when Evangeline's Queen. Won't it be lovely?" and she sighed.
 
"Lovely?" exploded William. "Huh!"
 
"Won't you like it?" said Bettine wonderingly.
 
"Me!" exploded William again. "Dancin' round a pole! Round that ole girl?"
 
"But she's so pretty."
 
"No, she isn't," said William firmly, "she jus' isn't. Not much! I don' like her narsy shiny hair an' I don' like her narsy blue clothes, an' I don' like her narsy face, an' I don' like her narsy white shoes, nor her narsy necklaces, nor her narsy squeaky voice——"
 
He paused.
 
Bettine drew a deep breath.
 
"Go on some more," she said. "I like listening to you."
 
"Do you like her?" said William.
 
"No. She's awful greedy. Did you know she was awful greedy?"
 
"I can b'lieve it," said William. "I can b'lieve anything of anyone wot talks in that squeaky voice."
 
"Jus' watch her when she's eatin' cakes—she goes on eatin' and eatin' and eatin'."
 
"She'll bust an' die one day then," prophesied William solemnly, "an' I shan't be sorry."
 
"But she'll look ever so beautiful when she's a May Queen."
 
"You'd look nicer," said William.
 
Bettine's small pale face flamed.
 
"Oh no," she said.
 
"Would you like to be a May Queen?"
 
"Oh, yes," she said.
 
"Um," said William, and returned to the discomfiture of Evangeline Fish by his steady concentrated scowl.
 
The next day he had the opportunity of watching her eating cakes. They met at the birthday party of a mutual classmate, and Evangeline Fish took her stand by the table and consumed cakes with a perseverance and determination worthy of a nobler cause. William accorded her a certain grudging admiration. Not once did she falter or faint. Iced cakes, cream cakes, pastries melted away before her and never did she lose her ethereal angelic appearance. Tight golden ringlets, blue eyes, faintly flushed cheeks, vivid pale blue dress remained immaculate and unruffled, and still she ate cakes. William watched her in amazement, forgetting even to scowl at her. Her capacity for cakes exceeded even William's, and his was no mean one.
 
They had a rehearsal of the Maypole dance and crowning the next day.
"I want William Brown to hold the queen's train," said Miss Dewhurst.
 
"Me?" ejaculated William in horror. "D'you mean me?"
 
"Yes, dear. It's a great honour to be asked to hold little Queen Evangeline's train. I'm sure you feel very proud. You must be her little courtier."
 
"Huh!" said William, transferring his scowl to Miss Dewhurst.
 
Evangeline beamed. She wanted William's admiration. William was the only boy in the form who was not her slave. She smiled at William sweetly.
 
"I'm not good at holdin' trains," said William. "I don't like holdin' trains. I've never bin taught 'bout holdin' trains. I might do it wrong on the day an' spoil it all. I shan't like to spoil it all," he added virtuously.
 
"Oh, we'll have heaps of practices," said Miss Dewhurst brightly.
 
As he was going Bettine pressed a small apple into his hand.
 
"A present for you," she murmured. "I saved it from my dinner."
 
He was touched.
 
"I'll give you somethin' to-morrow," he said, adding hastily, "if I can find anythin'."
 
They stood in silence till he had finished his apple.
 
"I've left a lot on the core," he said in a tone of unusual politeness, handing it to her, "would you like to finish it?"
 
"No, thank you. William, you'll look so nice holding her train."
 
"I don't want to, an' I bet I won't! You don't know the things I can do," he said darkly.
 
"Oh, William!" she gasped in awe and admiration.
 
"I'd hold your train if you was goin' to be queen," he volunteered.
 
"I wouldn't want you to hold my train," she said earnestly. "I'd—I'd—I'd want you to be May King with me."
 
"Yes. Why don't they have May Kings?" said William, stung by this insult to his sex.
 
"Why shouldn't there be a May King?"
 
"I speck they do, really, only p'raps Miss Dewhurst doesn't know abut it."
 
"Well, it doesn't seem sense not having May Kings, does it? I wun't mind bein' May King if you was May Queen."
 
The rehearsal was, on the whole, a failure.
 
"William Brown, don't hold the train so high. No, not quite so low. Don't stand so near the Queen, William Brown. No, not so far away—you'll pull the train off. Walk when the Queen walks, William Brown, don't stand still. Sing up, please, train bearer. No, not quite so loud. That's deafening and not melodious."
 
In the end he was degraded from the position of train-bearer to that of ordinary "swain." The "swains" were to be dressed ............