There they were, hanging under the glass: bunches of black and of
purple Hamburgs, and of translucent Malagas, big enough to have
been an armful!

"Just one, Sam, please."

"Make you sick."

"They never make me sick when I eat them in the house. They are
good for me! One COULDN'T make me sick. I'm sick because you DON'T
give it to me. Don't I LOOK sick, Sam?"

The time came when Gabriella began to extend her knowledge to the
country, as she drove out beside her grandmother in the balmy
spring and early summer afternoons.

"What is that, grandmother?" she would say, pointing with her small
forefinger to a field by the turnpike.

"That is corn."

"And what is that?"

"That is wheat."

"And what is that?"

"Oats, Gabriella."