“I thought it was a wolf,” answered Groúsha, and her terror and tears of despair changed instantly to loud laughter.

“There’s a stupid!”

“I was dreadfully frightened,” said Groúsha, with peals of ringing laughter. They picked up the berries and went on. The sun was now up, and threw bright flecks and shadows on the green, and glittered in the dew that lay everywhere, and that had now saturated the girls’ clothes up to their waists.

The girls had nearly reached the end of the wood, having gone on and on in the hope that the farther they went the more strawberries there would be, and now the shrill voices of girls and women who had come out later to pick berries, resounded from every side. The girls’ mug and jug were nearly full when they came across Aunty Akoulína, who had also come strawberrying. Behind her a little fat-bellied, bareheaded boy, with nothing on but a shirt, waddled along on thick bandy legs.