hasn't got her basket nearly
full yet. Here's some nice large berries; let me fill your bucket
again."

"No; 'eys sour. Me don't like 'ackburries any more!"

"I don't wonder!" I thought, recalling the number of times that I had
filled the small bucket, and he had emptied it, but I remained
discreetly silent. The little fellow had been humored so much since
father's death--and, perhaps, before--that the moment he was opposed
he cried, so now he began to whimper forlornly: "Me 'ants to do home,
'Essie!"

"What for, dear?"

"Me's s'eepy."

That appeared very probable, too, but I disliked to return with a
half-filled bucket when the berries were so abundant and fairly
begging to be picked. Looking around, inquiringly, I saw, under a
clump of bushes at some little distance, an inviting carpet of cool
green grass. Taking the child in my arms I carried him over and laid
him down on the grass, putting my apron under his head for a pillow.
"There, Ralph, isn't that nice? I'll stay right close by you and you
can sleep here in the bushes like the little birds."

Ralph smiled sleepily, nestling his head closer into the impromptu
pillow. "'Ess," he murmured drowsily, "'is nice; now me is a yittle
yay bird." He meant no reflection on himself in the comparison. His
acquaintance with jay birds was limited, but he recognized them when
he met them, and considered them very good fellows. The cool breeze
fanned him; the leaves rustled, their airy shadows playing over his
face, and Ralph was sound asleep almost as soon as his drowsy eyes
closed. I watched him for a moment and then hastened back to my
chosen corner of the blackberry patch and resumed picking.

Unconsciously, as I worked, I pressed in among the tall vines until at
length the recumbent little figure on the grass was quite hidden from
sight. That did not really matter, for I was easily within call. No
sound coming from that quarter I gradually became more and more
absorbed in my task. It would be very nice, I thought, to carry a
brimming bucket full of berries down to the house on my return. Once
or twice I suspended operations to stand still and listen under the
startled impression that I had heard some unusual noise. Convinced
each time that there was nothing; that I was mistaken, I continued
picking, but I remember that I did glance up once at the cloudless
sky, wondering, in an idle way, why I should have heard thunder.

The bucket was quite full and I was backin