“Why, yes, we can eat them,” said the girl, “but we want to sell them. But, then, we haven’t got any to sell now;—I forgot that;—so we may as well stay as not. Only, then, mother won’t know what is become of us. O dear! I don’t know what we shall do.”
When they came to the place where Thomas was picking up the blueberries, Royal went to work at once, very busily too. Little Jenny said, in a mournful tone,—
“Now, my basket isn’t here, Mary; and I don’t know where it is.” And she began to cry again.
The older girl, whose name, it seems, was Mary, told her not to cry.
“Never mind, Jenny,” said she. “Don’t cry; mother won’t blame us much, when we tell her all about it.”
“But I can’t find my basket at all,” said Jenny.
“Why, you dropped it out there where you first began to run away,” said Royal. “You go back there, and get it, while we are picking up these blueberries.”
“No,” said Jenny, shaking her head.
“Yes,” replied Royal; “it is not very far.”
“No,” said Jenny; “I’m afraid to go there again.”