Here Is A Tale For Any One Who Wishes: There Grew A Cabbage Once Among The Flowers, A Plain, Broad Cabbage A Good Wench, Whose Hours Were Kitchen-Busy With Plebeian Dishes. The Rose And Lily, Toilless, Without Mottle, Patricians Born, Despised Her: "How Unpleasant!" They Cried;"What Odour! Worse Than Any Peasant Who Soils God'S Air! Give Us Our Smelling- Bottle." There Came A Gentleman Who Owned The Garden, Looking About Him At Both Flower And Edible, Admiring Here And There; A Simple Sinner, Who Sought Some Bud To Be His Heart'S Sweet Warden: But Passed The Flowers And Took It Seems Incredible! That Cabbage! But A Man Must Have His Dinner.