. American cookery . fore us there isno sight of any other human being. If we couldnt find the way downthe hill, says Boy, I spose wed haveto stay here all night. But we couldnt stay here all night,cries Pink Rompers, aghast, we haventany brush teeth. If you watch where the woods are cut off, after a few seasons have passed,you are almost sure to find wild rasp-berries. The cutters leave piles of brushwhich the vines delight to climb, — andyou after them. Before your eyes abranch fairly drips with perfect redberries! You step on the pile and sink imme-diately to your knees. With great dif-ficu
. American cookery . fore us there isno sight of any other human being. If we couldnt find the way downthe hill, says Boy, I spose wed haveto stay here all night. But we couldnt stay here all night,cries Pink Rompers, aghast, we haventany brush teeth. If you watch where the woods are cut off, after a few seasons have passed,you are almost sure to find wild rasp-berries. The cutters leave piles of brushwhich the vines delight to climb, — andyou after them. Before your eyes abranch fairly drips with perfect redberries! You step on the pile and sink imme-diately to your knees. With great dif-ficulty and a lacerated stocking you liftyourself out, seize a slender sapling forsupport and plunge the other foot intoa hornets nest. The big St. Bernard,worn out after barking at a rabbit inone of these same piles, is now coolingoff under a shady bush, panting vigor-ously, his tongue rippling over whiteteeth. He regards your wild and seem-ingly unnecessary manoeuvres patiently,as much as to say, Oh, well, shell have. LIKE OLD MEMORIES THE RASPBERRY CLINGS ABOUT OLD HOUSES BERRYING 15 enough of it in a little more and be readyto go home. Poor hunting here. Heremembers his own failure with therabbit. The thicket is no place for contem-plation. Here life is a struggle. Vinesand tenacious briers stand as high asyour neck. \\ ild clematis grows inprofusion over dead stumps and rottingtree trunks. Wasps hover about thecloying blossoms. You are stung andwould have cried out—• but you recallthere is only the dog to hear you — andhe already looks so disgusted. You areso nervous every time a bee comes alongthat you cant even look one in thesting. The sun beats down. Mosqui-toes make little puffs of air near your face,and before vou can find a hand to smite,they have bitten you. They have apreference for the eyelids and nose. Youpick in desperate haste to finish. Youwonder where you are going to findenough pins to hold your clothes to-gether, so as to make a modest returnhome. Neve
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