The blackberry lot was a wild tangle. There were some hickory-nut
trees in it and a splendid branching black walnut. Sometimes they found
a cluster of hazel-nuts.

The great blackberry canes grew six or seven feet high. They generally
cut one path through in the early summer. The long branches made arches
overhead.

The little girl pinned a big dock-leaf with a thorn and made a cup. When
it was full she emptied it into Jim's pail. They were such great,
luscious berries that they soon had it filled. Then they sat down and
rested. Everybody knows that it is harder work to pick berries than to
play "tag."

Jim had a piece to speak on Friday afternoon at school. They had these
exercises once a month, but this was to be a rather grand affair, as
then school closed for a fortnight. That was all the vacation they had.

Jim was rather proud of his elocutionary gift. He stood up on a big flat
stone and declaimed so that the little girl might see if he knew every
word. It was extremely patriotic, beginning:

"Columbia! Columbia! to glory arise,
The queen of the world and the child of the skies!"

"Oh, you say it just splendid!" declared the little girl
enthusiastically. She never laughed and teased him as Peggy did.

She was learning some verses herself, but she wondered if she would have
courage enough to face the whole school. They were in her "Child's
Reader" with the "Little Busy Bee," and "Let Dogs Delight to Bark and
Bite." She thought them beautiful:

"The rose had been washed, lately washed in a shower,
Which Mary to Anna conveyed."

It puzzled her small brain a good deal as to why the rose needed
washing. But Peggy showed her one day how dusty the leaves and flowers
grew in a dry time, and she learned that the whole world was the better
for an occasional washing. She asked Mary afterward why the clothes were
not put out in a hard rain to get them clean.

"Laws, honey, dey need elbow-grease," and the old woman laughed
heartily.

"I do wish my name was Anna," she said, with a sigh.

"Well, you just need to put another _a_ to the Ann," said her brother
confidently.

"And I don't like being called Han and Hanny."

"I'd a heap rather be called Jim than James. When pop calls me James I
think it's time to pick myself up mighty spry, I tell you!" and he
laughed.

"It's different with boys," she said, with a soft sigh. "Girls ought to
have pretty names, and Hanneran is dreadful."

"I'd sta