Could be much brighter than a Canadian one!”

Yet I knew well his grapes brought visions fair

Of mellow summer lands with temperate air.

“Grapes are like men—can’t ripen everywhere....

Men all need sun, and right loam I suppose;

But if one strikes deep roots ... as a rule ... he grows!”

He smiled his smile and cut a late white rose.

RED CURRANTS

“Well! The red currants must be picked to-day.

They’re ready for jelly” Grandmother would say.