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When the snow melted, the earth was covered with the fallen leaves of the last year, and already it was green with the strawberry plant, and the bursting buds of the gooseberry, raspberry, and rose bushes, soon variegated by the rose and the blossoms of the choke cherry.
Flippin went out to find Mary busy. "My dear," she said, "what are you doing?" Mary was rolling out pastry, with ice in a ginger-ale bottle. "I am going to make some tarts. There was a can of raspberries left and and well I'm just hungry for raspberry tarts, Mother." It was the Judge who told Becky that Dalton had not gone. "Mrs. Waterman is very ill, and they are all staying down."
After a time it increased in size, and when it had become large enough to bubble over clear gravel, Mary called a halt. "We'll have our picnic here," she decided. The ravine at this point received another little gulch into itself, and where the two came together the bottom widened out into almost parklike proportions. On one side was a grass-plot encroached upon by numerous raspberry vines.
Oh, I live with grandfather. I never come to the big house except when Mrs. Gay is in town." "Do you see nothing, then, of my mother when she is at home?" "Sometimes I help her to make raspberry vinegar or preserves. If you hear a noise in the night it is only the acorns dropping on the roof. There are so many oaks. Good night, Mr. Jonathan."
It was much like a raspberry, generally salmon in color, very juicy and delicate, approximating an inch and a half in diameter. Armed with a long pole, a short section of a butt limb forming a sort of shepherd's crook, I would pull down the heavily laden branches and after a few moments in the edge of the woods would be provided with a dessert fit for any queen, and so appropriate for my mother.
If there isn't a pot of jam down below and it's likely you have it ate if there is go into the shop and ask for one. Is it strawberry you'd like, Mr. Meldon?" "That or raspberry," said Meldon. "I don't care which. And now I want to say a word or two to you." "Come inside," said Doyle. "There isn't a soul in the bar, and maybe you'd like a drop of something before your tea." "I would not.
He remained helping us, till he had gone through the corn, once each way, twice between the long rows of potatoes, then twice through all the raspberry rows, giving us two full days of his time altogether. I handed him a dollar in addition to his charge, saying that I had never paid out money with greater satisfaction.
To keep him amused while she did her work, Ruth had given him a piece of bread and raspberry jam, which the child had rubbed all over his face and into his scalp, evidently being under the impression that it was something for the improvement of the complexion, or a cure for baldness. He now looked as if he had been in a fight or a railway accident.
That must have been it, for Ralph is desperately fond of every kind of pastry. I will go into the house this minute, and make him some raspberry tarts. We shall have them for supper, even if they give him the nightmare. I am not going to have him say again that he wished the new cook, as he kept calling Dora Bannister, had stayed a little longer."
Barbara finished setting the tea-table, which she had a way of doing in a whiff, put on the sweet loaf upon the white trencher, and the dish of raspberry jam and the little silver-wire basket of crisp sugar-cakes, and then there was nothing but the tea, which stood ready for drawing in the small Japanese pot. Tea was nothing to get, ever. "Mother, go back again!
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