Alice asked me why strawberries were so called. She was eating a
delicious plateful of them; and as they were heaped high on the dish,
sprinkled with sugar and covered with cream, they were very inviting.
But why were they strawberries, and not red-berries, or blush-berries,
or best-berries? Because, dear, I told her they grow on the ground on a
pretty running vine, and are found strewn, or strawn, among their green
leaves. From strewn or strawn berries the way is short to strawberries,
which name slips easily over the lips in our talk.
* * * * *
FOR THE COMMONPLACE-BOOK.--Here, dear girls, is a picture from Mrs.
Browning for your busy pens to copy:
She was not so pretty as women I know,
And yet all your best, made of sunshine and snow.
Drop to shade, melt to naught, in the long-trodden ways.
While she's still remembered on warm and cold days-- My Kate.
Her air had a meaning, her movements a grace,
You turned from the fairest to gaze on her face;
And when you had once seen her forehead and mouth,
You saw as distinctly her soul and her truth-- My Kate.
Such a blue inner light from her eyelids outbroke
You looked at her silence and fancied she spoke;
When she did, so peculiar yet soft was her tone.
Though the loudest spoke also, you heard her alone-- My Kate.
I doubt if she said to you much that could act
As a thought or suggestion; she did not attract
In the sense of the brilliant or wise; I infer
'Twas her thinking of others made you think of her-- My Kate.
* * * * *
A BOY.--We will shortly publish an article giving you the information
you desire.
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