New-York tribune., 1907-08-04
GOING BERRYING.
Il Typical Experience of Country
Life.

nave had my experiences. and they laid
away in the sandal>xood chest Of memory. Some OF
them will bring cut. but this one OF berry
Ing viii tell you. for II is OF the lost arts.
Since science has made huge berries to grow in
our gardens-sixteen 10 quart-romance has left
the world Yes. indeed. my Cynthia. but IL took
four hundred 10 a quart when the bars
at daylight and went through the Harding mea-
dows. and among the knobs and glens hunting
strawberries. 1 smell those odors yet, The
peppermint and the spearmint and the white clover
and the delicate flavor Of the berries themselves,
all pearled with dew. The stems six to eight
inches long. and there were sometimes seven ber-
ries 10 stalk-and some OF the biggest went
your basket. Cynthia. do you remember that?
Indeed but L would do It again. for the look that
you gave me and the something In your eyes that
I shall never forget.
berrying outside ploughed garden. that very
few of US have all the remembering TO do 1t was
the Illumination of childhood; the Joy Of middle
life. Mothers laid away their dishes after dinner
and strolled through nefghboring orchards, sitting
a while the big blocks OF limestone and then
came home the supper table with bowls
of scarlet. But We children went at daybreak, Out
OF the yard where the nlacs grew. around the barn
where the pie plant lifted lis great leaves down
the little orchard lane through the cherry trees;
all along the way bohbed out here bonnet
cap-till the baskets were least a dozen Every
girl wore a dress with tucks. and you could tell
how old each by the number OF tuckS. for
in those days calico dress was not meant ror six
months but for six years. It put when
the girl seven years old, and a tuck was let
out each year. AT twelve years OF age the dress,
ana turned oniy no oress "ent psIow tii7 allhee,
for must not the berry hunter get down on her
knees and scrabble2 And for us boys all
wore frocks of bedtickins. that could tear.
Do not know. for have not, while climbing for
hens nests about the old barn. been caught on
nail hung in the air for two hours? Oh. the
delicious prattle! Just like brook. a sweet
brook running among tho wild plants and
kissing every OF them-the prattle of q dozen
childrens voices. going berring and the patter OF
the feet along the twisted pathway Why need
wear out shoes when conventIonasm has no
Ne ted nat W
through thistle patch-and We did It. You will
fnd among a dozen children more beautiful toes
than noses And when came to brook We
always spashed about while. with our naked
feet among the stones and fishes.
Those strawberries were really no sweeter than
these which grow in gardens. But It
w the romance of it-the creeping about together
the hepatics and the forget t-me-nots and in the
clover fields and here and there on the little knobs
where pigeon berries also grew.
am but that found even moro pleasure
hunting the red and the black raSpberries Is
pecially the black ones grew in very unexpected
places. and while your mates were hunting In vain
you might be filling your basket from q huge buSh
sown by some bird in a fence corner. You need
not suppose, however that such a berry field Will
be left altogether for your pleasure The birds
here with prs- -empted rights Catb!rds do not sing
to you here they do around your farmhouse
but they scod you as an interioper. All sorts OF
sparrows are about and even the earliest gold
fnches fitting like bits Of a golden sunset
through the bushes: yes. and the indigo birds
bluest blue. They not only eat their fuu share.
but they seeds all over the country, increasing
the bushes about the fences and orchards. For
/ have not planted single paCR RASPBERRY
bush but have found enough coming up In my
vineyards. l let the best grow with the grapes
tied the trestleS. and so I get some fine new
sorts. Among the most welcome Of these birds is
the song sparrow. who stops eating every few
minutes Jumps on a limb and pours out bis grat-
tude in a hymn of joy. What bird he is What
trils of meiodyl
AS for biackberryins. although it is not what i,
should always be done alone, except for your
faithful dog. A dog understand blackberTying
but he despises strawberrytng- Here was how
ii Under lounge special suit OK
clothes, picked and pulled by the bushes that
It would nowhere in the world but IN a
blackberry field. When Ranger saw mo lit the
curtain and pull out that suit he knew. and no ono
need say a word about it, He jumped aIi over mo
in his gladness, and his sharp barks. like e1.
cIamation points. said Now! now! for time!
We will make day OF TT" And then he did not
wait but started ahead found him occa-
sionaly picking up adventures enough Tor SuiiieF
Couch novel. We went half mile right across
glens and through wood lots until we came TO a
big broad gulch an eighth Of a mile from top to
top and impenetrable that horses could not pull
out the fallen logs. But way down at the bottom
a sweet lonely brook went purling its quiet way
over pebbles and doing its little stunts to please
the little fishes Sometimes IT spread out wide, and
overhead the most delicious shade from dark
hemlocks 1 would like to Sit there to-day on the
big log, and toss crumbs once more 10 'hs
fishes.
only at this rate. shall never I'LL our baskets
with berries-they as big your thumb and
hanging in every direction your head and
around your legs. You may look away up the
twisted sides of the gullies, and there is nothing
anywhere In sight but blackberry bushes and black
berr,esLbusheis Of them. Here all day climb
and slide. and pick. and dream. and are happy.
Ranger comes about once In each half hour to see
If you are all right and touch you with his nose.
as If to say, Bully. amt it? Then he sits down
bv YOU on his launches, under the big bush. draws
his lips apart, and with bis teeth carefully picks
few berries. / wish / knew what skrmishes he
had all day and what dog poems were IN his
brains. But for me. I know that shall never
forget those days. nor indeed the homeward walk
at night with twenty quarts OF berries In my M,
baskets We sit down on the steps Of the old
farmhouse Just the shades begin TO thicken ana