232 DAYS IN THE OPEN 



" You never saw my old home, did you? Well, 

 the house stood at the foot of a hill and close by a 

 little stream. In the summer time the wild straw- 

 berries in the meadow above the orchard were so 

 thick that I remember picking a bushel there 

 one day. For raspberries and blackberries we 

 usually went some three or four miles to Babcock 

 Hollow, but once there you could fill a ten-quart 

 pail in no time at all, and they were the sweetest, 

 most luscious berries you ever tasted. Then, in the 

 fall, came apple picking and potato digging and 

 corn cutting and nut gathering. There were dozens 

 of butternut trees in the pasture-lot through which 

 the creek ran, and on Button Hill you could get all 

 the chestnuts you wished. Did you ever gather 

 beechnuts ? They are so little that picking them up 

 by hand is slow work. We used to take three or 

 four sheets, spread them under a beech tree, after 

 the first frost had opened the burrs, and then one 

 of the boys would climb the tree and pound the 

 limbs, sending the nuts down upon the sheets in 

 showers. 



"But the winters! When there was a good 

 crust on the snow you could start on your sled at 

 the patch of woods on the top of the hill, nearly a 

 mile away, and ride right into our barnyard. I've 

 done it many a time. Skating! We could go al- 

 most straight away for miles on the river. One 

 night when Jim Gilbert's people were away from 

 home I got permission to stay all night with him. 



