And the swallow talked to them of warm countries, where the grapes

hang in large clusters on the vines, and the air is soft and mild, and

about the mountains glowing with colors more beautiful than we can

"But they have no red cabbage like we have," said the hen, "I

was once in the country with my chickens for a whole summer, there was

a large sand-pit, in which we could walk about and scratch as we

liked. Then we got into a garden in which grew red cabbage; oh, how

nice it was, I cannot think of anything more delicious."