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tang vinous, savage, as its coiling, assert- 

 ive stem. The charm, the languor, of the 

 far East are in it, curiously in leash with the 

 new West's vital crudeness. 



Eat of the fruit sweet to the taste, bitter 

 to the tongue, melting-full of fine, sharp, aro- 

 matic juice. If you have Job's patience, 

 even in part, it will yield you wine o' the 

 rarest. Pick for it only fair, large fruit 

 ripe, sweet, full - flavored. Press each 

 black-bloomed globe 'twixt the fingers and 

 thumb till juice and pulp fall out, then fling 

 away the skin. Therein lies the burning 

 roughness the ill, fox-grape flavor. From 

 the hulled meats you shall drain liquor fit for 

 the gods. A mcnth of hiss and bubble, six 

 of fining, fattening upon the lees a pink, 

 sparkling flow shall rejoice your eye, your 

 palate, put heart into your doing, fill all your 

 soul with color, warmth, perfume. Crushed 

 and pressed with the hulls, there will be only 

 red roughness, muddy, bitter, good to no 

 use of edifying, yet mounting to the head. 

 Of a verity, Earth, our mother, gives the 

 vine ; man, her child, must answer for its 

 use, its abuse. 



All the earth lies dry and warm, and pal- 

 pitant in sunshine. The touch of it is vital. 

 Lie at length here in the pasture, prone on 



