den in good order and in marching step.

But when they are about to pass the gate, and again when they enter the
yard of the bridegroom's house, an imaginary obstacle blocks the way.
The bearers of the burden stagger, utter loud cries, retreat, advance
once more, and, as though crushed by a resistless force, they pretend
to sink beneath its weight. While this is going on, the bystanders shout
loudly, exciting and steadying this human team.

"Slowly, slowly, my child. There, there, courage! Look out! Be patient!
Lower your head; the door is too low! Close up; it's too narrow! A little
more to the left; now to the right; on with you; don't be afraid; you
're almost there."

Thus it is that in years of plentiful harvest, the ox-cart, loaded to
overflowing with hay or corn, is too broad or too high to enter the
barn door. Thus it is that the driver shouts at the strong beasts, to
restrain them or to urge them on; thus it is that with skill and mighty
efforts they force this mountain of riches beneath the rustic arch of
triumph. It is, above all, the last load, called "the cart of sheaves,"
which requires these precautions, for this is a rural festival, and
the last sheaf lifted from the last furrow is placed on the top of the
cart-load ornamented with ribbons and flowers, while the foreheads of
the oxen and the whip of the driver are decorated also. The triumphant
and toilsome entry of the cabbage into the house is a symbol of the
prosperity and fruitfulness it represents.

Safe within the bridegroom's yard, the cabbage is taken from its
stretcher and borne to the topmost peak of the house or barn. Whether it
be a chimney, a gable, or a dove-cote that crowns the roof, the burden
must, at any risk, be carried to the very highest point of the building.
The "infidel" accompanies it as far as this, sets it down securely, and
waters it with a great pitcher of wine, while a salvo of pistol-shots
and demonstrations of joy from the "infidel's wife" proclaim its
inauguration.

Without delay, the same ceremony is repeated all over again. Another
cabbage is dug from the garden of the husband and is carried with the
same formalities and laid upon the roof which his wife has deserted to
follow him. These trophies remain in their places until the wind and the
rain destroy the baskets and carry away the cabbage. Yet their lives are
long enough to give some chance of fulfilment to the prophecies which
the old men and women make with b