15. GREEN CABBAGES
The swallow spoke of those beautiful warm countries, where bunches of grapes, large and heavy, hang on he vines; where the airis are so balmy and the mountains are tinged with various hues, such as are never know here.
“Ah ! but they have not our green cabbages !” said the Hen. “I remember, one summer, I and all my chickens lived in the country, and we cloud go into a garden cabbages. Oh, how green they were! I cannot imagine anything more beautiful !”
“But one head of cabbage looks exactly like another,” said the
Swallow; “and then we often have wet weather here!”
“One gets accustomed to that,” said the Hen.
“But it is cold, It freezes !”
“That is good for the cabbages,” said the Hen.
“Besides, it can be warm sometimes. Did we not, four years ago, have a summer which lasted five weeks? It was so hot, that one could hardly breathe.”