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Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XI, Issue 77, 18 March 1876, Page 2

There is another local industry that takes my fancy even more than hopgrowing, important as I deem this to be. I admit that the point of view from which I regard it is that taken up by a man who merely reaps the harvest without going to all the trouble and expense of planting and tending, and I will relate how I have arrived at my conclusion. I was returning to town from the cricket ground yesterday hot, tired, and thirsty, and the condition of my lips may be best described by an . expression made use of by a friend who. was walking with me. -'I feel," said he, "just as though I had been kissing' old Mother Gum, for my lips cleave together." Just then, a good Samaritan appeared in the shape of' the proprietor of a vineyard bordering on the town end of the Hardy-street bridge. " What do you say to a bunch of grapes?", Never did an invitation strike more pleasantly on my ear. " What do I say? I say nothing, but am prepared to take immediate action," and in the twinkling of aa eye I was seated in, an avenue, protected from the scorching rays of the sun by huge vine leaves, and with a rich luscious bunch of grapes iv my hand. It was a big bunch, but it disappeared, and then another, and— well, I am not going to say how many of them it took to quench my thirst — and having done my duty by them I was about to depart, full of gratitude and grapes, when my host increased my obligation by insisting upon my tasting his wine made from last year's crop. And as I left him I made up my mind that the grape growing was far superior . to the hop growing industry, and that the grape eating was better than, either.