...there they stood, a cluster of of seven or eight in a sort of clearing on the hilltop under a effulgent sky, and they were heavily drooping with knobby, long. glistening mulberrries, some pale green, some ruby, some jet....while we gathered a whole pailful of the berries, Aunt Elsa told me with darting eyes how often she had visited the mulberry grove with her mother, who had spread a worn white sheet on the grass beneath the trees, then had gently shaken the branches while both had stood together watching the fat, juicy berries plop down.   "And wait til you taste the pie." she said as we walked back to the car...

The Wonderful World of Cooking -- Edward Heth (1956)