Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-03-20
A PYRAMID OF CARRIAGES.
from Harper's Weekly.l

"Why, where are you going, Isabel
Eastman? Not into the farm-yard
surely
Yes, Miss Lottie Mayell, l am
going into the farm-yard, surely,
replied Isabel; with Il mischievous
light in her gay eyes, and a charming
smile on her prettily curved lips, as
she opened the gate leading to that
place. Nowhere else can we be con-
tidentially without running the risk of
being overheard. The farmers fam
lily are in the orchard Charley and a
half-dozen Of his playmates are play
ing in the flower garden; there's a
young couple in the parlor at the
piano, he making love, and she not
making music, and a still younger
couple whispering and giggling in the
bay-window auntie in my room enjoy
ing Splendid Misery; and grandma
is in auntie's room darning stockings.
And so, if you really want to hear
right away why am here instead
Of at one of my usual summer haunts,
YOU must cen follow me to the farm
yard. Besides which speaking with
increased animation have lately,
strange as it may seem to you, devel-
oped quite passion for farm-yards. "
1T doesn't seem at all strange to
me, my dear, for during our ten years
friendship you've always been devel-
Oping some odd passion OF other. But
I've never lost faithin you. Lead on ;
I'll follow"
And stepping daintily and grace
fully, unimpeded by trains or demi-
trains, the young girls threaded their
way through the crowd of hens and
chickens holding loud and lively
conversation preparatory to going to
rOost past the COWS waiting to be
MIXED, and turning their heads to
look after the intruders with great SOL
emn brown eyes; and old Lowhead,
the white horse, Stacking his thirst at
the interchangeable the extreme
end Of the yard, where pile Of cab
bages, neatly arranged in the form Of
apyramid, confronted them.
"Behold," said Isabel, stopping
before it, chow nature lends herself
to art THAT sounds we'll though I
don't know as it means anything.
This mighty structure, formed of the
green and succulent cabbage, is no
doubt the work of some humble field
laborer. who having heard of the
Pyramids of Egypt-incited thereto,
odOubt by the newspapers paragraphs
about our own dear obelisk-has
sought to vary the monotony of cab
bage life by building as close an
imitation as his material would allow.
Let us hope that this fight of imagi-
nation may lead to higher one, and
that the cabbage man like the butter
woman, may meet with public recog-
milton. and at last be crowned with a
wreath of laurels. Often from the
humblest source spring great works
ing off suddenly, and assuming q
reproachful Tone why do you break
in upon my eloquence with rude and
unseemingly laughter? was about
to repeat to you LongfellOw' last
poem now l won't. See what your
frivolity has lost you! And take a
seat on the extreme base of the pyra-
mid 1 prefer the mound of sods in
this secluded corner, sacred to some
body's rake and hoel, while l go
back to the commonplace.
':Thank you, Bell, dear, I'll share
the sods with you, if you please. l
have an idea that a cabbage would
prove a very uncomfortable seat
under any circumstances. And do
go back to the commonplace, that's
a darling, for I'm dying to know
what has happened since we parted
an age ago"
AN age ago. One year and a
half exactly. [ was then engaged to
Claude Wenner. Pertty name, isn't
itl And he was a pretty little fellow,
with nice curly hair and lovely blue
eyes, with lashes long enough for
bang, small dimpled hands, and not
an idea in his little round head. My
mother-with all due Difference I say
it-and his mother-to whom / ac-
cord much less deference-made the
match when l was but Is and I I'M
made it at twenty. | never loved
Claude. How could ? And he never
loved me. How could he! We were
the victims of circumstances ond
match-m aking mammas, and two
mortals more unlike it would be hard
to find He was the most conven-
tiOnal Of men, and would have nearly
died if at any one those dreary dinner
parties in which his soul delighted
somebody had whispered to him that
his back hair wasn't parted straight,
while I have often been strongly
tempted to shock the fllll-dressed
guests, at the very start. by asking
Tor some more soup.
Well, last June, at Newport. my
diminutive friend, Eda Smythe, with
a head the exact counterpart of
Claude's, appeared upon the scene,
and she and my betrothed fell in love
with each other at first sight. Mann
ma fretted and fumed. and scolded.
and asked me, with tragic emphasis. |
how [ could look calmly on and see so
many thousands of dollars being lost
to the family, for she was sure that
artful mink would persuade poor dear
Claude to e1Ope or something: but
continued to look calmly on, until one
evening Claude, with a deep sigh. |
kissed Eda's hand as he babe her good |
night, when / turned suddenly upon
them, and babe them follow me to my
room. There forgave-quite as the
manner of a stage parent-the infatu-