Lom goes Blackberrying. 237

a

“Well, Richard,” answered Tom, “and if
I have, you needn’t say it to anybody. And
the blackberries are safe—that’s the chief
thing.”

 

“You'd better go straight upstairs, Master
Tom,” said Richard, “and get dried.”

“Yes,” said Tom. “I dried myself in the
sun, but it hasn’t done it properly. Archie,
watch the blackberries. Don’t make them
into jam till I come.”

“No,” answered Archie. “I'll sit beside
them without touching them.”

Tom soon came down again, with clean
boots and stockings, and the hole in his sleeve
mended. Only the scratches and nettle-stings
remained on his face and hands. As soon as
dinner was over, Archie and he ran down to
the kitchen to make the blackberries into jam.
There was a great fire all ready blazing, and
a great pot to boil them in, and a great pile
of sugar to mix with them.

Tom liked being in the kitchen, but was
not often allowed to go down to it, because it
was the cook’s sitting-room—not his. He