but I'll pick on shares."

"Share and share alike?"

"Yes; I'll keep half for my trouble, and you will get half for no
trouble."

Her method of figuring always amused him, and now he laughed outright,
"Seems to me I am entitled to them all. They are my berries, you know."

"Well," stormed Peace, "if that's the way you look at it, you can pick
'em, too!"

"Aw, don't get mad," he said soothingly. "I was just teasing. Of course
you can pick all the raspberries you want. My wife said just this
morning that the bushes were loaded, and she couldn't begin to handle
them all herself. But--say--that reminds me--I've rented the pasture to
old Skinner, and he's put his bull in there. You will have to watch your
chance when the old critter is out, to pick your berries."

"All right," cried Peace, expressing her elation by hopping about on one
foot. "It's awfully nice of you to give us the berries you don't care
to pick yourself, and we will see that the bull doesn't bother."

She was half way across the field by the time she had finished speaking,
eager to tell the good news to the girls; and before the dew was dry on
the grass the next morning, three sunbonneted figures scampered down the
road to Mr. Hartman's lower pasture, armed with big pails and Allee's
red wagon, intent on picking all the berries they could for Faith's
jelly.

"We'll have to leave Allee's cart outside the fence," said Peace,
climbing the high rails with astonishing agility and dropping nimbly
down on the other side. "Do you see the Skinflint's bull anywhere?"

"No," answered Cherry, taking a careful survey of the field from her
perch on the top rail. "There isn't a thing stirring."

"Then maybe we can pick all we want before the deacon brings him down.
Hurry, and keep a sharp lookout for the old beast. My, but these bushes
are stickery!"

"I should say they are," Cherry agreed, ruefully eyeing her bleeding
hands. "I don't believe it is going to be any fun picking raspberries.
They are lots worse than blackberries."

"S'posing we had been the prince who crawled through the hedge to wake
Sleeping Beauty. I bet he got good and scratched up, but he kept right
on and fin'ly kissed the princess awake."

"There ain't any princess in these bushes," grumbled Cherry, pausing to
suck a wounded thumb.

"No, but there are _berries_, and they are more important than
princesses. We couldn't make jelly out of a princess, but we can
out--Mercy, what was tha