168 MY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. 



compacts its crisp leaves into a solid 

 head. The secret of it would be price 

 less to the world. We should see less 

 expansive foreheads with nothing within. 

 Even the largest cabbages are not always 

 the best. But I mention these things, 

 not from any sympathy I have with the 

 vegetables named, but to show how hard 

 it is to go contrary to the expectations 

 of society. Society expects every man 

 to have certain things in his garden. 

 Not to raise cabbage is as if one had no 

 pew in church. Perhaps we shall come 

 some day to free churches and free gar 

 dens ; when I can show my neighbor 

 through my tired garden, at the end of 

 the season, when skies are overcast, and 

 brown leaves are swirling down, and not 

 mind if he does raise his eyebrows when 

 he observes, &quot;Ah ! I see you have none of 

 this, and of that.&quot; At present, we want 

 the moral courage to plant only what we 



