nd moves away as far as the size of the
garden permits. The gardener's wife takes care that the sacred
vegetable shall not be hurt in its fall. The wits of the wedding, the
hemp-dresser, the grave-digger, the carpenter, and the sabot-maker, form
a ring about the cabbage, for men who do not till the soil, but pass
their lives in other people's houses, are thought to be, and are really,
wittier and more talkative than simple farmhands. One digs, with a
spade, a ditch deep enough to uproot an oak. Another places on his
nose a pair of wooden or cardboard spectacles. He fulfils the duties of
"engineer," walks up and down, constructs a plan, stares at the workmen
through his glasses, plays the pedant, cries out that everything will be
spoiled, has the work stopped and begun afresh as his fancy directs, and
makes the whole performance as long and ridiculous as he can. This is
an addition to the formula of an ancient ceremony held in mockery of
theorists in general, for peasants despise them royally, or from hatred
of the surveyors who decide boundaries and regulate taxes, or of the
workmen employed on bridges and causeways, who transform commons into
highways, and suppress old abuses which the peasants love. Be this as it
may, this character in the comedy is called the "geometrician," and
does his best to make himself unbearable to those who are toiling with
pickaxe and shovel.

After a quarter of an hour spent in mummery, and difficulties raised in
order to avoid cutting the roots, and to transplant the cabbage without
injury, while shovelfuls of dirt are tossed into the faces of the
onlookers,--so much the worse for him who does not retreat in time,
for were he bishop or prince he must receive the baptism of earth,--the
"infidel" pulls the rope, the "infidel's wife" holds her apron, and the
cabbage falls majestically amidst the applause of the spectators. Then a
basket is brought, and the "infidel" pair plant the cabbage therein
with every care and precaution. They surround it with fresh earth, and
support it with sticks and strings, such as city florists use for their
splendid potted camellias; they fix red apples to the points of the
sticks, and twist sprigs of thyme, sage, and laurel all about them; they
bedeck the whole with ribbons and streamers; they place the trophy
upon the stretcher with the "infidel," whose duty it is to maintain its
equilibrium and preserve it from harm; and, at length, they move away
from the gar