“What’s the matter with it?” inquired Jack.
“It’s just red with strawberries!”
“Oh, let’s get out and pick some,” proposed Priscilla.
“Don’t you think we might be able to sell them in the next town if we gathered enough?” Desiré asked Jack.
“Perhaps. There is a hotel, and lots of boarding houses in Kentville; so I’m told.”
They left the horses to graze in the shade of some trees, and the whole family, armed with various sized dishes, scattered over the field. After a couple of hours’ steady work, they transferred the berries to a basket, covered them with leaves, and continued on their way.
“Who’s going to sell them?” questioned Jack, when they were nearly to Kentville.
“Never thought of that,” confessed Desiré.
“I will,” offered Priscilla. “Let me!”
“Me too,” chimed René. “I can sell berries fine.”