The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1897-03-13


dinnerl The very first pie of the sea-
SON
Such long time it took Grandma
to cross the field; such long time
she was climbing over the stile; there
was Mother at the porch door, look
ing this way and that and wondering
little anxiously what had become
of Grandma. She had the dinner
horn in her hand; she was about to
signal again.
Slowly Grandma walked across the
big back yard. The moment she ap-
peared around the woodpile, Mother
exclaimed: "Why, Sylvia Porter,
where have you been all this timer"
"Berrying," said Grandma.
"Why, Sylvia Porter!" said Mother,
"where are your berries9 You could
not be all the morning picking SO
few"
Uncle Alfred came up from the
barn just then, and seeing Grandma
trying to wink back the tears, he
said: Berries scarce, were theyg
"They we're scattery," said Grand
ma, with big gulp, as if she had
swallowed something whole.
"Well, well, wellp' said Uncle AL
fred, ''never mind; better luck next
time. Mother, give Sylvia an extra
piece of pie; she has earned her din
ner and no doubt about it,"
why, Sylvia Porter' exclaimed
Mother, "your feet are soaking wet.'
At this, Grandma grew redder and
winked harder.
Had pretty hard time today
didn't you, little onel' said Uncle
Alfred. 'Stones were slippery, were
they? Well, don't fret, you shall have
three pieces of pie for your dinner,
and will take you out to the village
when you get on your clean bib and
| tucker"
And off went Uncle Alfred to har-
ness old Dobbin, while Mother went
into the house and into the pantry
and brought the pie and set it before
Sylvia. The table had been cleared
for an hour.
Grandma was very hungry, and
tt ere was nothing she liked SO much
as blueberry pie; but this pie was
the most miserable tasting pie she
ever ate. There was something very
serious the matter with it. There
was some seasoning in it that Mother
did not put in, and it spoiled it.
why, why, why!" said Uncle Al
fred. when he came in and found
Grandma with her head hanging
down, not eating, not even looking at
the pie; don't take it to heart like
that, little one. Now run and get
ready, and l will buy you pepper
oblCh al bAC ooOhO'
Grandma usually jumped about
and clapped her hands when Uncle
| Alfred came to the door with old
Dobbin: but she did not do that to-
day. Even the delicious pepper
mint-stick failed to bring smile to
Grandma's face.
Uncle Alfred looked down at
Grandma out of the corners OF his
eyes, and began to suspect there was
more to the story of the "scattery"
berries than had been told.
A little girl who has something on
her conscience is pretty sure to have
it in her face, too. When Grandma
did not say a word about the gor-
geous Indian at the top of the wealth
er-vane on Farmer Burbank's barn,
nor ask to stop for look at the beau
tiful peacock at Squire Randal's,
nor beg to get out and gather a
handful Of bloss pms at Langly Mead
ows, then Uncle Alfred knew ''for
sure" that there was more to the
story of the berry excursions; but he
did not say word about it to Grand
ma.
Mother" he said, when they were
at home again, there is something
l
the matter with Sylvia. | think she
must be fretting herself sick about
those berries. Do you give her all
the pie there is for supper, and tell
her you did not mind bit about the
empty pail.
"And, Sylvia, come here. Where are
you going? l want to tell you some
thing. We will go berrying together
tomorrow, and | know the place
where we can fill our baskets 10 no
time"
Grandma ran into the house with
out saying a word, and hid behind a
big chest in the big clothespress, and
cried as hard as she could cry.
After that she felt better. Il
'spect," she said to the big chest,
''that it's best to go straight home and