It was a beautiful spring of cool water, bubbling up from between the rocks on the side of a little hill.

She sat down by the side of this spring, took off the cover from her little pail, took out the oranges and laid them down carefully in a little nook where they would not roll away, and then using the pail for a dipper, she dipped up some water, and had an excellent drink.
"What a good spring this is!" said she to herself.

"It is as good as Mary Erskine's." It was the time of the year in which raspberries were ripe, and Mary Bell, in looking around her from her seat near the spring, saw at a distance a place which appeared as if there were raspberry bushes growing there.
"I verily believe that there are some raspberries," said she.

"I will go and see; if I could only find plenty of raspberries, it would be all that I should want." The bushes proved to be raspberry bushes, as Mary had supposed, and she found them loaded with fruit.

She ate of them abundantly, and was very much refreshed.