Quill Pens and Berry Ink

I could not believe it when I came across this illustration of two little girls making ink from berries. This is just what I did when I was seven years old.
At this time Mother, Daddy and I lived on the very top of a hill in West Virginia. Ours was the only home on top that hill. Alone on our hill, I had no other children to play with. I loved to explore and listen to the sounds of the birds.

When I wasn't in my favorite spot watching the birds from a hammock between two big trees in back of our house, I spent some of my time searching for ‘ink’ berries growing on the hillside. I would slide down the hill, wade through thickets and bushes collecting berries, then squeeze them until the juice ran out, producing ‘ink’! Feathers from the birds were always easy to find. I would use them as quills, dipping them into the ink. Then I would write my secret messages! What fun!

Just looking at the illustration above, I could definately say that I was the little girl on the right. I usually wore rolled up jeans and sported scratches and bruises from fighting my way through thickets...and I was usually dusty and dirty from digging potatoes and gathering eggs from the hen house and a little purpley from squeezing ink berries. Perhaps the little 'princess' on the left was my imaginary friend to whom I wrote secret messages with my quill pens and berry ink.