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to talk. He had trouble with his knees, and every little while would fall down and spill his berries. He said he was 75 years old and had a wife who was laid up with gallstones and he had to do the housework. He would have to go home pretty soon and tend to her. But the two old boys did enjoy those berries; they hadn't seen so many "in 30 years". I came off first saying that I wasn't going to tell anyone about where I got my berries, and the fellow with weak knees vowed that he wouldn't be likely to mention it either!
Mrs. B is going off Monday, for certain. She is going over to have Winnie treat her feet this afternoon.
Doris.