[Illustration:  “There were the berry bushes—­fairly loaded with shining blackberries.”]

The girls set to work most enthusiastically and by the time Grandfather came to see how they liked their job (for, of course, he had heard all about it at dinner time) they had their baskets nearly full.  He walked home with them and helped them measure out their berries with Grandmother’s quart measure.  Alice had a quart and a half and Mary Jane a full, even quart and Grandmother paid immediately—­fifteen cents for Alice and ten cents, a bright new dime, for Mary Jane.

“My, but I do be rich!” exclaimed Mary Jane delightedly.  “I can get my dear mother the nicest thing!”

“Of course you can, Pussy,” said Grandfather, “and Alice will have her camera in no time.  I get the best of all, though,” he added with a mysterious nod of his head.

“How do you?” asked both girls at once.

“I get to eat the jam!” replied Grandfather in a comical attempt at a whisper.

“They do too, bless their hearts!” exclaimed Grandmother.  They shall eat all they want.  I’ll make it first thing in the morning.”

“And first thing in the morning I mean to get more berries,” said Alice.  “Let me see—­fifteen into seventy-five:—­in four more days I’ll have enough money to get my camera!” And she danced around gayly, she was so delighted.

“Not quite,” laughed Grandfather; “don’t be in too big a hurry, Blunderbuss; you have to give the berries a chance to ripen.  Better plan to go every other day.  You’ll get more at a time that way.”

“And I’m going, too,” put in Mary Jane, “so I can get more money for Mother’s present.”

“I was thinking about that present while you girls were gone,” said Grandmother.  “You’d better get that present in the city where the stores are good.  Why don’t you save it for her Christmas gift?  That would be nice.”

“But I wanted to give her something when she comes to take me home!” objected Mary Jane, who had set her heart on making her mother a gift, “something that I did.”

“That’s all right,” Grandmother assured her; “give her something then, too.  Something you made yourself and save the money you earn till Christmas.  How would you like to make her some blackberry jam?  She likes blackberry jam and you could make that.”

“Could I really?” exclaimed Mary Jane, and she sidled over to where her grandmother was standing.

“How silly!” cried Alice.  “You know she can’t make jam, Grandmother; she’s only five years old.  Why, even I don’t know how to make jam and I’m twelve!”

“Is that so?” laughed Grandmother, and she slipped her arm around Mary Jane.  “Well, what you can do and what Mary Jane can do has no connection.  You don’t know what she can do.  She’s going to be a good cook; she’s begun already.  And if she wants to make a glass of jam for her mother, all by herself, she shall do it, so there!  And you can make some, too, if you want to, dear,” she added kindly to Alice.