"Come, ma belle cousine," for so Louis delighted to call her. "Hector and I
are waiting for you to go with us to the 'Beaver Meadow.' The cattle have
strayed, and we think we shall find them there. The day is delicious, the
very flowers look as if they wanted to be admired and plucked, and we shall
find early strawberries on the old Indian clearing."
Catharine cast a longing look abroad, but said, "I fear, Louis, I cannot go
to-day, for see, I have all these rolls of wool to spin up, and my yarn to
wind off the reel and twist; and then, my mother is away."
"Yes, I left her with mamma." replied Louis, "and she said she would be
home shortly, so her absence need not stay you. She said you could take a
basket and try and bring home some berries for sick Louise. Hector is sure
he knows a spot where we shall get some fine ones, ripe and red." As he
spoke Louis whisked away the big wheel to one end of the porch, gathered up
the hanks of yarn and tossed them into the open wicker basket, and the next
minute the large, coarse, flapped straw hat, that hung upon the peg in the
porch, was stuck not very gracefully on the top of Catharine's head
and tied beneath her chin, with a merry rattling laugh, which drowned
effectually the small lecture that Catharine began to utter, by way of
reproving the light-hearted boy.
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