Berrying

"Amanda's! My granny used to say still that no girl was ready to get
married till she could roll out a thin pie dough. I guess my girl is
almost ready, for she got hers nice and thin this morning. Ach," she
thought in dismay as she saw the girl's face flush, "now why did I say
that? I didn't think how it would sound. But Amanda needn't mind
Martin!"

Merry little twinkles played around Martin's gray eyes as he answered,
"I see. Looks as if Amanda's ready for a husband--if she's going to
feed him on pies!"

"On pies--Martin Landis!" scorned the girl. "I'd have a dyspeptic on my
hands after a few days of pie diet."

"Well, you'd make a pretty good nurse, I believe."

"Nurse--not me! The only thing I know how to nurse is hurt birds and
lame bunnies and such things. You just lay them in a box and feed them,
and if they get well you clap your hands, and if they die you put some
leaves and flowers on them and bury them out in the woods--remember how
we used to do that?"

"Do I? I should say I do! The time we had the fence hackey that Lyman
Mertzheimer hurt with a stone--"

"Oh, and I nursed him and fed him, and when I let him go he bit my
finger! I remember that! I was so cross at him I cried."

"Wretch that he was," said Martin. "But if we begin talking about those
days I won't get to work. I stopped in to ask you to go berrying with
us this afternoon. I get out of the bank early. We can go up to the
woods back of the schoolhouse. The youngsters are anxious to go, and
Mother won't let them go alone, since that copperhead was killed near
here. I promised to take them, and we'd all like to have you come."