Uncle Billy]

But now blackberry season had begun,--a season that he hated, because
Mammy expected him to help her early and late in the patch. So many of
the shining berries slipped down his throat, so many things called his
attention away from the brambly bushes, that sometimes it took hours for
him to fill his battered quart cup.

Usually his reward was a juicy pie, but this year Mammy changed her
plan. Berries were in demand at Rosehaven, and she had very little time
to spend in going after them.

"I'll give you five cents a gallon for all you'll pick," she said to
John Jay. He looked at her in amazement. As he had never had any money
in his life, this seemed a princely offer. He was standing outside by
the stick chimney when she made the promise. After one sidelong glance,
to see if she were in earnest, he threw his feet wildly into the air and
walked off on his hands; then, after two or three somersaults backward,
he stood up, panting.

"Where's the buckets at?" he demanded, "I'm goin' to pick every bush in
this neck o' woods as clean as you'd pick a chicken."

Now it was Mammy's turn to be surprised. She had expected that her
offer would lure him on for an hour or two, maybe for a whole day. She
had not supposed that it would keep him faithfully at work for a week,
but it did. His nimble fingers stripped every roadside vine within a
mile of the cabin. His hands and legs, and even his face, were
criss-crossed with many brier scratches. The sun beat down on him
unmercifully, but he stuck to his task so closely that he seemed to see
berries even when his eyes were shut. Every day great pailfuls of the
shining black beads were sent over to Rosehaven, and every night he
dropped a few more nickels into the stocking foot hidden under his
pillow.

"Berries is all mighty nigh cleaned out," he said one noon, when he was
about to start out again after dinner. "Uncle Billy says there's lots of
'em down in the gandah thicket, but I'se mos' afeered to go there."

"Nothin' won't tech you in daylight, honey," answered Mammy,
encouragingly, "but I would n't go through there at night for love or
money I'd as lief go into a lion's cage."

"Did you ever see any ghos'es down there Mammy?" asked John Jay with
eager interest, yet cautiously lowering his voice and taking a step
nearer.

"No," admitted Mammy, "but oldah people than I have seen 'em. All night
long there's great white gandahs flappin' round through that thicket