Book Excerpt

One beautiful June morning Pierre Cavier had a rare opportunity. He had expected he’d have to go to the vineyard again to tie up the vines. It was the time of the year for doing that, and he had been helping his father for days already. Dad said that this was just the job for Pierre. With his thin, nimble twelve-year-old fingers, he could hold the vines much better than his father, Jean, whose fingers had become stiff from years of hard work.