Another experience with fruit in Lawrence illus-
trates the ideas of my mother and the character of
the training she gave her children. Our neighbors,
the Cabots, were one day giving a great garden party,
and my sister was helping to pick strawberries for
the occasion. When I was going home from school
I passed the berry-patches and stopped to speak to
my sister, who at once presented me with two straw-
berries. She said Mrs. Cabot had told her to eat
all she wanted, but that she would eat two less than
she wanted and give those two to me. To my
mind, the suggestion was generous and proper; in
my life strawberries were rare. I ate one berry,
and then, overcome by an ambition to be generous
also, took the other berry home to my mother, tell-
ing her how I had got it. To my chagrin, mother
was deeply shocked. She told me that the trans-
action was all wrong, and she made me take back
the berry and explain the matter to Mrs. Cabot.
By the time I reached that generous lady the berry
was the worse for its journey, and so was I. I was
only nine years old and very sensitive. It was clear
to me that I could hardly live through the humilia-
tion of the confession, and it was indeed a bitter
experience the worst, I think, in my young life,
though Mrs. Cabot was both sympathetic and
understanding. She kissed me, and sent a quart
of strawberries to my mother; but for a long time
afterward I could not meet her kind eyes, for I be-