by the expression of
his face, that he had not succeeded.

"You must be tired, Harry," she said. "You had better sit down and
rest."

"Oh, no, I'm not tired, mother. If you'll tell me where the four-quart
kettle is, I'll go and pick some blueberries."

"What will you do with so many, Harry?"

"Carry them to Mr. Mead. Every two days he sends a supply to market."

"How much does he pay?" asked the widow, brightening up at this glimpse
of money to be earned.

"Eight cents a quart, payable in groceries. It won't be much, but will
be better than nothing."

"So it will, Harry. I don't know but I can do better going with you than
to stay at home and sew."

"No, mother; you would be sure to get a headache, exposed to the sun in
the open pasture. Leave me to pick berries. It is more suitable for
me."

"What time will you get home to dinner, Harry?"

"I shall not come home till the middle of the afternoon. I'll take a
little lunch with me, and eat in the pasture."

So Harry started out, pail in hand, for the berry pasture. It was about
a mile away, and was of large extent, comprising, probably, thirty acres
of land. It was Harry's first expedition of the kind in the season, as
his time had been so fully occupied at the store that he had had no
leisure for picking berries.

The berries were not so plentiful as they had been somewhat earlier, but
they were still to be found in considerable quantities.

Harry was not alone. Probably a dozen other persons were in the pasture,
engaged in the same way as himself. All knew Harry, and some, who had
not heard of his loss of place, were surprised to see him there.

"And how is it you are here, Harry?" asked Mrs. Ryan, a good-natured
Irish woman, who was out, with three of her children, reaping a harvest
of berries. "And how can Mr. Mead spare you?"

"Because he's got another boy," answered Harry.

"Shure it was mane to send you away, and your mother nadin' your
wages."

"He couldn't help it. He had a nephew that needed the place. But,
perhaps, I can make a fortune, like you, picking berries."

"And shure you'd have to live a hundred years to do that, and have
berries ripe all the year round. It's hard work, Harry, and poor pay."

"You have the advantage of me, Mrs. Ryan. You've got three children to
help you."

"And don't I have to buy food and clothes for the same? Shure, you're
welcome to all they earn, if you'll board and clothe 'em."

"I didn't think of tha