I wish to goodness he had to work
for his living instead, of depending upon what his father left him."

"Let me pick the berries, Miss Arabella," and Rod stepped quickly
forward. "I'll do it for a cent a box, or less if you want me to. I
know a boy who did that and he earned three dollars."

Miss Arabella did not at once reply, and Rod was afraid that she did
not agree to his proposal. She remained silent for a while, plucking
at her dress in a thoughtful manner.

"Rod," she at last began, and her voice was softer than he had ever
heard it, "I am going to give you that patch of berries. It will be
your very own, and you can do what you like with it."

"Oh, Miss Arabella! Surely----"

"There, that will do, now," she snapped. "None of your thanks for me.
You'd better go and get ready to go to work. I saw a good many ripe
berries out there this morning, and you can't afford to waste any time."

Rod didn't walk across the field. There was no slow sauntering home
when he was once out of the house. He burst into the rectory like a
whirlwind, just as the Royals were sitting down to dinner. Breathless
and excited, he blurted out his story, and when he was through Mrs.
Royal told him to get ready for dinner.

Rod could eat but little, as his mind was so taken up with the good
fortune which had come his way. He was anxious to be off to the store
to get some berry-boxes.

"Where are you going to send your berries, Rodney?" Parson Dan inquired
when they were through with their dinner.

"To the city, I suppose," was the reply. "I can't sell them here very
well. Nearly all of the summer people raise their own."

"You should have some one place in the city to send them, Rodney. I
have heard that Peter McDuff gives good prices. You might try him."

"Will you write him a letter, grandad?"

"I think you had better do it yourself. This is your business, and you
must carry it through from beginning to the end."

It took Rod some time to write that letter. It was the first business
one he had ever written, and he did not know just what to say. At
last, after numerous efforts, he decided that this would be
satisfactory:

HILLCREST, N. B.
July 12th, 1911.

"MR. PETER McDUFF,
St. John.

"Dear Sir: I have some strawberries which I am going to pick myself. I
want to buy a scout suit, and Miss Arabella has given me her berries.
What will you give me for them? I will send them down on the boat when
I