The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1881-02-26
A PYRAMID OF CABBAGES,
From Harper's Weekly. l

U
Eastman? Not into the farm yard,
surely?"
"Yes, Miss Lottie Mayell, l am go.
ing into the farm-yard, surely" replied
Isabel; with misehievous light in hel
gay eyes, and charming smile on he1
prettily curved lips, as she opened the
gate leading to that place. 'Nowhere
else can we be confidential without run
ming the risk of being overheard. The
farmers family are IN the orchard:
Charley aud half-dozen of his play
mates are playing III the flower garden;
there's 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 III auntie's room darning stockings.
And SO, If you really want to hear
right away why L 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-''I have lately.
strange as it may seem to you, deyel-
oped quite passion for farm-yards. p"
cit doesn't seem at all strange to me.
my dear, for during our ten years
friendship you've always been deyel-
oping some odd passion or other. But
I've never lost faith In you Lead on;
I'll follow"
And stepping daintily and gracefully,
unimpeded by trains or demi-trains, the
young girls threaded their way through
the crowd of hens and chickens holding a
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 a pile OF cabba2es, neatly
arranged In the form of pyramid, con-
fronted them.
Behold" said Isabel. stopping be-
fore it, chow nature lends herself to art
/ (That sounds well though | don't know
as it means anything.) This mighty
structure, formed of the green and sue
culent cabbage, is no doubt the work of
some humble field-laborer, who having
read of the pyramids OF Egypt-incited
thereto, no doubt by the newspapers
paragraphs about our own dear obelisk
has sought to vary the monotony of cab
bage life by building as close an imita-
ton as his material would allow. Let
us hope that this flight of imagination
may lead to a higher one, and that the
cabbage man like the butter woman.
may meet with public recognition, and
at last be crowned with q wreath of lau-
rels. Often from the humblest source
spring great works of genius. Burns
Lottie - breaking off suddenly, and as
Stunning a reproachful tone-"'whv do
you break III upon my eloquence with
rude and unseemingly laughter? [ was
about to repeat to you Longfellow's last
poem; now 1 won't. See what your
frivolity has lost you! And take a seat
on the extreme base of the pyramid Il
prefer the mound of sods in this seclud-
ed corner, sacred to somebody's rake and
hoe, while | go back to the common
place"
"Thank You, Bell dear, I'll share the
sods with you, ii you please. [ have
an idea that a cabbage would prove a
very uncomfortable seat under any cir
cumstances. And do go back to the
commonplace, that's a darling, for Tn
dying to know what has happened since
we parted an age age"
Gan age ago. One year and a half
exactly. | was then engaged to Claude
Wenner. Pretty name, isn't it? And
he was a pretty little fellow, with nice
curly hair and lovely blue eyes, with
lashes long enough for a bang, small
dimpled hands, and not an idea in his
little round head. My mother-with all
due Difference [ say it-and his mother
to whom | accord much less Difference
made the match when I was but IS
and | unmade it at 90 / never loved
Claude. How could [? And he never
loved me. How could he? We were
the victims of circumstances and match
making mammas, and two mortals more
unlike it would be hard to find. He was
the most conventional of men. and would
have nearly died if at one of those dreary
dinner parties in which his soul de-
lighted somebody had whispered to him
that his back hair WASH t parted straight,
while I have often been strongly tempt
ed to shock the full-dressed guests, at
the very start, by asking for 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. Mamma fretted and
fumed, and scolded, and asked me, with
tragic emphasis, how / could look calm
" on and see so many thousands of dol
lars being lost to the family, for she WIS
sure that artful mink would persuade
poor dear Claude to elope 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 l forgave-gulte as the
manner of a stage parent-the infatuated
midgets at their base dupIicity, gave
them my blessing, kissed them both;
and as soon as they, beaming with JOY,
had departed, |, also, beaming with JOY,
and not quite In the manner of a stage
parent, except, perhaps, a PifafOre one,
executed pirouette-in honor of nv
newly acquired freedom. Mamma was
awfully angry, but they are awfully hap
DIV, and they've named the baby after
me. Ny chains (they were never very
heavy, l must eonfess) broken beyond
repair, | fiirted more than ever, all the
time growing as weary as could be OF
hearing the same compliments and max
ing the same replies, and doing this
thing in the morning and that thing IN
the afternoon, and the other IN the even
ing, and at last | fed from the old ia
. -