A POTATO STORY WHICH BEGINS WITH A BEAN-POLE.
The family story-teller, being asked to tell one of his “ten-minute” stories, said, “If it will content you, I will tell you a Potato story which begins with a Bean-Pole.
“Once there was a Bean-Pole which was stuck into the ground by the side of a Potato-Hill.
“‘Dear me!’ cried a young Cabbage, growing near, ‘what a stiff, poky thing that is! and of no earthly use, standing there doing nothing.’
“But very soon a Scarlet-Bean, running about in search of something to climb upon, found this same Bean-Pole.
“‘All right!’ cried the happy little Bean. ‘You are the very thing I want. Now I’ll begin my summer’s work.’
“‘Well, to be sure!’ cried young Cabbage. ‘Every thing comes to some use at last. But who would have thought it!’
“The Scarlet-Bean was a spry little thing. She ran up that pole just as easy! Being of a lively turn, she began, at last, to make fun of the Potato-Plant.
“‘How sober you are!’ said she. ‘Why don’t you try to brighten up, and look more blooming?’
“The poor Potato-Plant, though doing her best, could only show a few pale blooms.
“‘You don’t mean to call those things flowers?’ cried the frisky Bean. ‘Just look at my beautiful blossoms!’ And she held up a spray of bright scarlet.
“The Potato-Plant kept quiet.
“‘What stupid, useless things those Potato-Plants are!’ said young Cabbage; ‘and how much room they take up!’
“Summer passed. The Bean began to fill her pods, and proud enough she was of them.
“‘Why don’t you do something?’ she cried to the Potato-Plant down below. ‘Only see what I’ve done! There’s a summer’s work for you!’ And, sure enough, she had hung her full pods all up and down the pole.
“‘Yes, why don’t you do something?’ cried Cabbage. ‘Your summer is gone, and nothing done. Can’t you come to a head? Any thing but idleness!’
“The Potato-Plant still kept quiet: but when digging-time came, and the hill was opened, and the pile of ‘Long Reds’ appeared, her neighbors could hardly believe their senses.
“‘Dear me! what a surprise!’ cried the Bean. ‘So we can’t always tell by appearances.’
“‘I declare!’ cried Cabbage. ‘Then you were doing something all that time! But how could I know? There’s that Bean: she hung her pods up high, so that everybody could see. Well, well, well! After this, I’ll always say of a plant which makes but little show, “Wait: potatoes inside there, maybe.”’
“There are a great many Scarlet-Beans among the people I know,” said the family story-teller, “and some Potato-Plants too, and perhaps a few young Cabbage-Heads.”