May

May is not, as a rule, a pleasani month. It is a transition stage. It is a month which keeps you wonderiug from day to day whether it is safe to get into summer clothing y et and, tha change being once made, you have no more doubt in the matter, for you coma home in a snow storm. It is a month of budding hawthorn and threatening influenza, of cuckoos and catarrhs, of May-poles and mustard plast.ors.