STRAWBERRIES. 



WAS it old Dr. Parr who said or sighed in his last 

 illness, " Oh, if I can only live till strawberries come ! " 

 The old scholar imagined that if he could weather it 

 till then, the berries would carry him through. No 

 doubt he has turned from the drugs and the nos- 

 trums, or from the hateful food, to the memory of the 

 pungent, penetrating, and unspeakably fresh quality 

 of the strawberry with the deepest longing. The 

 very thought of these crimson lobes, embodying as it 

 were the first glow and ardor of the young summer, 

 and with their power to unsheathe the taste and spur 

 the flagging appetite, made life seem possible and 

 desirable with him. 



The strawberry is always the hope of the invalid, 

 and sometimes, no doubt, his salvation. It is the 

 first and finest relish among fruits, and well merits 

 Dr. Boteler's memorable saying, that " doubtless God 

 might have made a better berry than the strawberry, 

 but, doubtless, God never did." 



On the threshold of summer, nature proffers us 

 this, her virgin fruit ; more rich and sumptuous are 



