Wild strawberries grow plentifully in the woods around Paris, and during the months of July and August they are gathered by boys and girls who gain a scanty livelihood by selling them to the hotels, where they are used as desserts and eaten with powdered sugar. Ir is summer, it is summer; How beautiful it looks, There is sunshine on the old gray hills, And sunshine on the brooks, A singing bird on every bough, Oh! is it not a pleasant thing, |