grape

_Then join our leaping lines that scumfish through the pines, That rocket by where, light and high, the wild grape swings.

Suddenly he struck against something crouching behind a wheelbarrow filled with leaves; the something rose, uttering an exclamation of astonishment, and Monte Cristo found himself facing a man about fifty years old, who was plucking strawberries, which he was placing upon grape leaves.

He began gathering the grape-leaves which screened the sun from the grapes, and won the heart of the gardener.