"Is there anything else you want, Nancy?" asked Aunt Lucretia.
"I wanted to know if--I didn't know but--you'd like to have me pick
some blackberries for you, Aunt Lucretia."
"Blackberries?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Aunt Lucretia stared reflectively at Nancy. "Do you suppose your mother
would be willing? The sun's pretty hot."
"Yes, ma'am. I know she wouldn't care."
"Well, I do want two quarts of blackberries dreadfully, and there 'ain't
a boy been along. I'm going to have the minister and his wife to tea
to-night, and I want to have blackberry shortcake. Do you suppose you
could pick me two quarts before four o'clock this afternoon?"
"Yes, ma'am. I know where they're real thick."
"Well," said Aunt Lucretia, "you can go home and ask your mother, and if
she's willing, you can go and pick them. Mind you keep out of the sun
all you can. I'll give you seven cents a quart; that's a cent more than
the boys ask."
"Don't you want more'n two quarts, Aunt Lucretia?" asked Nancy, timidly.
"I guess two quarts will be about all you'll want to pick," returned
Aunt Lucretia, grimly.
"No, ma'am; it won't."
"Well, we'll see how you hold out. I want four quarts for jell the last
of the week; but you pick two quarts first, and see."
Nancy went home. She ran nearly all the way.
"You go right into the sitting-room, and sit down with the palm-leaf
fan, and cool off before you do anything else," said her mother, when
she proposed the plan; "you'll have a sun-stroke.
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