"I thought you were at work in the shoe shop." "So I was, but I have lost my place." "Ha!" exclaimed the store-keeper suspiciously. "If Squire Marlowe has discharged you, I don't want to hire you." "You are mistaken, Mr. Jones, about the cause of my discharge. He had no fault to find with me." "So _you_ say," returned Jones, in evident skepticism. "Boys don't get discharged for nothing." Bert felt inclined to be angry, but he controlled his temper. "I am a pegger, and the squire has introduced a pegging machine, so he has discharged all the peggers." "Oh, that's different. Well, I'm sorry for you, but I have no vacancy." "If Herman should change his mind again, will you think of me?" "Yes, I will. I think you are a good boy, and you look strong for your size." Bert felt a little encouraged by this promise, though it was very doubtful if it would ever amount to anything. Day after day passed, and no employment offered. But one morning a bright idea came to Bert. Blueberries were just coming into the market, and he knew of a large pasture a little over a mile away. "Mother," he said, "if you'll give me a large tin pail, I'll go after some berries. I may be able to sell them at the hotel." "If you can't, we can use them ourselves," rejoined Mrs. Barton. "It will be better to sell them, for I hear they are bringing fifteen cents a quart. They won't stay long at that figure, so we will put off having them ourselves till they are cheaper." It was with a light heart that Bert set out for the berry pasture. He had become tired of having nothing to do. Any sort of employment seemed desirable. Besides, they were very much in want of money, and here seemed a chance of earning some. Bert spent five hours in the pasture. Berries were high, because they were scarce, and it took fully twice as long to gather a quart as it would two weeks later. But he kept steadily at his task, and at length the pail--which held four quarts--was full. He was tired enough and his back ached, but still he felt happy as he left the field and trudged toward the Lake House, which was the name of the village hotel. There were a few summer boarders there from New York and Philadelphia, who were glad to exchange the brick walls and crowded city streets for the verdure and pure breezes of the country. Fortunately Bert found the landlord on the piazza, and to him he preferred his request. "Would you like to buy some blueberries?" "Go round to the side door, Bert," said Mr. Holbrook, the good-natured landlord. "I leave all such matters to Mrs. Holbrook." "Blueberries?" exclaimed the landlady. "Why, it's just what I wanted. Mrs. Casewell, from Philadelphia, has been teasing me for some blueberry pudding. What do you ask?" "Fifteen cents a quart," answered Bert. "You know they have just come into the market."