whether it was extreme hunger, or fear lest some hungrier soul
should get to the bushes first, that caused one member of our
party to recklessly cram his mouth with what he thought would be
most excellent fruit. But alas! things are not what they seem.
He began to pucker his mouth and cough in the most violent
manner. "Choke cherries, choke cherries," he repeated between
broken coughs; these cherries were evidently named by one who
knew the right word for them. This fruit is extremely attractive
just before ripening, with its handsome clusters of red
cherries; a real feast to the eye but not to the palate, until
they change to dark red or almost black. "Some things are to be
admired and not judged by the New Testament standard, very
literally interpreted, 'By their fruits ye shall know them.' We
used other tests here and valued this small tree for its beauty,
though its cherries were as bitter as wormwood."

It isn't often one is privileged to dine at the Sign of the
Lavender Kettle in Sandwich, but this is what we did in
Massachusetts. The place was neat and scrupulously clean, and
the dessert consisted of delicious raspberries, which went far
to dispel our partner's belief that, as some theologians teach,
creation is indeed under a curse. But we are making too much of
the food question, and will say nothing of the honey, fresh
buns, country butter, etc., but shall make haste to inquire
concerning our night's lodging, for Plymouth is celebrating the
Tercentenary this year, and we were informed that it is
extremely difficult to find hotel accommodations.

While making inquiries concerning a suitable place to stay, we
were approached by a motherly but very officious old lady, clad