"Out with it!"
"I—want us, Sarah," stammered Shmuel,—"to go for a picnic."
"A picnic!" screamed Sarah. "Is that the only thing you have left to wish for?"
"Look here, Sarah, we toil and moil the whole year through. It's nothing but trouble and worry, trouble and worry. Call that living! When do we ever have a bit of pleasure?"
"Well, what's to be done?" said his wife, in a subdued tone.
"The summer will soon be over, and we haven't set eyes on a green blade of grass. We sit day and night sweating in the dark."
"True enough!" sighed his wife, and Shmuel spoke louder:
"Let us have an outing, Sarah. Let us enjoy ourselves for once, and give the children a breath of fresh air, let us have a change, if it's only for five minutes!"
"What will it cost?" asks Sarah, suddenly, and Shmuel has soon made the necessary calculation.
"A family ticket is only thirty cents, for Yossele, Rivele, Hannahle, and Berele; for Resele and Doletzke I haven't to pay any carfare at all. For you and me, it will be ten cents there and ten back—that makes fifty cents. Then I reckon thirty cents for refreshments to take with us: a pineapple (a damaged one isn't more than five cents), a few bananas, a piece of watermelon, a bottle of milk for the children, and a few rolls—the whole thing shouldn't cost us more than eighty cents at the outside."