"One shouldn't eat potatoes; can't you see that?"
"But what is one to eat if not potatoes?"
"Beef-steak, woman! Steak and onions! What! Isn't that good? Or steak à la Châteaubriand! Do you know what that is? What? I saw in the 'Fatherland' the other day that a woman who had taken womb-grain very nearly died as well as the baby."
"What's that?" asked the mother, pricking up her ears.
"You'd like to know, would you?"
"Is it true what you just said about womb-grain?" asked the cobbler, blinking his eyes.
"Hoho! That brings up your lungs and liver, but there's a heavy penalty on it, and that's as it should be."
"Is it as it should be?" asked the cobbler dully.
"Of course it is! Immorality must be punished; and it's immoral to murder one's children."
"Children! Surely, there's a difference," replied the angry mother, resignedly; "but where does the stuff you just spoke about come from, master?"