... find myself at last near by where the branches used to line the steep roads that led hither and thither seawards where blackberries could be gathered in their season, and ferns found which were worth carrying home; where their primi- tive simplicity of ...

... Well, sez 1. wipin' the sweat off my face, that was a narrer escape. Awful narrar, s>id S il, an' turned to pickin' blackberries as cool as .a cowcumber. That looked like Henry Callisoa's bull, said I, after a bit. I b'leeve it does, said Sal, in ...