108 UNDER THE OPEN SKY 



above. Wherever the trees stop, the vines 

 clamber out profusely, and one of the 

 charms of a June bank is the rambling wild 

 strawberry, its dainty red fruits entrancing 

 alike to the eye, the nostril, and the palate. 

 "Doubtless," says Dr. Boteler, "God could 

 have made a better berry, but doubtless 

 God never did." 



WHAT IS A BERRY? 



But the strawberry is not a berry at all. 

 At least the scientist will not consent to call 

 it so. To him a berry is a very definite 

 kind of fruit. It must be pulpy, and this 

 the strawberry is, but it must have its seeds 

 buried in the pulp, and this the strawberry 

 has not. A cranberry is to the scientist a 

 berry, and so is a currant; a strawberry is 

 not, nor is a blackberry, a raspberry, or a 

 mulberry. But, then, to him the grape 

 deserves that name, and so does the tomato. 

 In this case I believe Nature and the people 

 agree, and the scientist is on a side-track. 



To the popular mind any small pulpy 

 fruit is a berry and Nature, I think, has 



