Page 20 - English Reader - 7

I could stay in bed later
in the mornings. Even

the thought of after-
breakfast pipes in front

of the fire left me cold.
But now, suddenly, I am

reconciled to autumn. I
see quite clearly that all

good things must come
to an end. The summer

has been splendid, but it
has lasted long enough.

This morning I welcomed the chill in the air; this morning I viewed the
falling leaves with cheerfulness; and this morning I said to myself, “Why,

of course, I’ll have celery for lunch.” (“More bread, waiter.”)

“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,” said Keats, not actually

picking out celery in so many words, but plainly including it in the
general blessings of the autumn. Yet what an opportunity he missed

by not concentrating on that precious root. Apples, grapes, nuts, and
vegetable marrows he mentions specially—and how poor a selection!

For apples and grapes are not typical of any month, so ubiquitous are
they, vegetable marrows are vegetables pour rire and have no place in

any serious consideration of the seasons, while as for nuts, have we not
a national song which asserts distinctly, “Here we go gathering nuts in

May”? Season of mists and mellow celery, then let it be. A pat of butter
underneath the bough, a wedge of cheese, a loaf of bread and—Thou.

How delicate are the tender shoots unfolded layer by layer. Of what a
whiteness is the last baby one of all, of what a sweetness his flavor. It is

20 Dolphin English Reader Book 7