Do for Shock." I had let a great double strawberry roll off the top of my heap, and a cat darted at it to give it a sniff; but old Brownsmith picked it up and laid it on the top of a post formed of a cut-down tree.
"Now, then, let's get a basket.

Look better for an invalid.

One minute: some leaves." He stooped and picked some strawberry leaves, and one or two very large ripe berries, which he told me were Myatt's.
Then taking me to a low cool shed that smelt strongly of cut flowers, he took down a large open strawberry basket from a nail, and deftly arranged the leaves and fruit therein, with the finest ripened fruit pointing upwards.
"That's the way to manage it, my lad," he said, giving me a queer look; "put all the bad ones at the bottom and the good ones at the top.
That's what you'd better do with your qualities, only never let the bad ones get out." "Now, your pinks and roses," he said; and, taking them, he shook them out loosely on the bench beneath a window, arranged them all very cleverly in a bunch, and tied it up with a piece of matting.
"I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you, sir," I said, warmly now, for it seemed to me that I had been making a mistake about Mr Brownsmith, and that he was a very good old fellow after all.
"That's right," he said, laughing.

"So you ought to be.

Good-bye.
Come again soon.