"Oh! no, Hafed," said Bessie. "I thank you very much, but it wouldn't be fair to take your berries."
"Please, missy, make Hafed feel good," he answered, holding his basket behind him when Bessie would have poured the berries back. "Me much find; bring, too, some Missy Mag—" by which he meant he would bring some more to Maggie,—and he went after Bob.
"Oh! you're tired, are you?" said Jane, turning around to look what her young charges were doing, and seeing them on the rock. "Maybe you'd like a little lunch too; and here's some biscuits, and a couple of cookies your mother told me to bring lest you should be hungry. Then you can eat some of your berries; or, stay, I'll give you some of mine so you may keep all your own."
So the kind nurse opened the paper containing the biscuits, and spread it on the flat stone on which the children sat; next she pulled two broad mullein leaves, and put a handful of berries on each, and then having produced the drinking cup she always carried when the children went on an expedition, she asked John where she should find a stream, and one being near at hand as usual, the cup was soon filled and placed beside the other things.
"There," said Jane, "I don't believe Queen Victoria herself had a better set-out when she went blackberrying."
The children thought not; and the rest and unexpected little lunch made them both feel refreshed and bright again.
"Bessie," said Maggie, as they sat contentedly eating it, "do you not think foreigner boys are a great deal nicer than home-made boys?"
"What does foreigner mean?" asked Bessie.
"It means to come out of another country. Hafed is a foreigner, and that little French boy who was so polite to us on board the steamboat was a foreigner, and so is Carl."
Carl was Uncle Ruthven's Swedish servant.