Lonely work is picking berries,
So I joined her on the hill:
"Jenny, dear," said I, "your basket's
Quite too large for one to fill."
So we stayed—we two—to fill it,
Jenny talking—I was still.—
Leading where the hill was steepest,
Picking berries up the hill.
"This is up-hill work," said Jenny;
"So is life," said I; "shall we