"Ours at home were ripe." "Well, Olly, I suppose the strawberries know best.

All I can tell you is, that things always get ripe here later than at Willingham.

Their summer begins a little later than ours does, and so everything gets pushed on a little.

But there will be plenty by-and-by.

And suppose just now, instead of looking at the strawberries, you give just one look at the mountains.