232 
THE STORY OF THE STRAWBERRY 
Ee the wood which 
edges the meadow 
isa hollow where 
it is almost sure 
to be cool and 
shady. Let us 
find our way 
there this morn- 
ing, and see how we can 
<¢6§°4 amuse ourselves. 
At first we want only 
to enjoy the wind which 
is coming through the trees, or to 
lie back on the grass and spy out 
the bird 
to laugh 
_ which is singing overhead, or else 
re 
at the red squirrel which is scold- 
ing away ata great rate just above us. 
Suddenly our eyes fall on a cluster of ripe, shining 
wild strawberries. Bird and squirrel are forgotten, for 
no fruit of all the year is prettier to look at than the 
wild strawberry ; and, what is more important, no other 
fruit has such a delicious flavor of the woods and fields. 
Soon we have eaten all the berries within reach. 
The creeping vines lead us out into the meadow, where 
we push aside the long grasses and pick one ripe 
mouthful after another. At last we are satisfied to go 
back to our shady nook. 
