My grandparents live in a village. There is a big compound in front of the house. The compound is full of many tall and short trees. Of all these, I like the mango tree. Perhaps therefore I am very crazy to visit my village in every summer break. As soon as I reach the village I run to the compound and climb the mango tree. There I sit for hours among the branches of the tree. I pluck raw mangoes and throw on the ground. My grand father tell me not to do but I don't listen to him and continue doing my work. Sometimes I get one or two ripe mangoes which I eat with relish.
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