"You might just bring me a plate, Lena, a plate or a dish." And when Lena brought what Frau Doerr had asked, the good woman dropped into the dish the broken pieces of asparagus which she had kept in her apron while she was sorting out the stalks. "There, Lena, that will make a little taste of asparagus. And it is just as good as the rest. For it is all nonsense that you must always have the heads. And it is just the same with cauliflower; always the flower ... pure imagination. The stump is really the best, for the strength of the plant is there. And the strength is always the most important thing." "Heavens, you are always so good, Frau Doerr. But what will your husband say?" "He? What he says doesn't matter. He will be talking. He always wants me to put in the spindling ones with the rest as if they were real stalks; but I don't like such cheating tricks, even if the broken pieces do taste just as good as the whole stalks. What anyone pays for, he ought to get, only it makes me angry that a man who gets on so well should be such an old skinflint. But all gardeners are like that, skimp and grasp and then they can never get enough." "Yes," laughed Lena, "he is greedy and a bit peculiar. But for all that he is a good man." "Yes, Lena, he is well enough so far, and even his stinginess would not be so bad, for at least it is better than wastefulness, if only he were not too fond. You would not believe it, but he is always right there. And just look at him. I have nothing but bother with him for all that he is fifty-six years old, and maybe a year more. For he tells lies if it suits him to. I keep telling him about strokes of apoplexy and point out people who limp or have their mouths drawn to one side, but he always laughs and will not believe me. But it will happen. Yes, Lena, I have no doubt that it will happen. And perhaps soon. Well, he has willed me everything he has and so I will not say anything more. When one has made one's bed, one must lie in it. But why are we talking about Doerr and strokes, and his bow legs. Good Lord, Lena, there are plenty of other folks who are as straight as a fir tree. Aren't there, Lena?" At this Lena grew still more rosy than before, and said: "The charcoal is cold." And stepping back from the board, she went to the stove and shook the coal back among the embers, so as to take out a new one. All this was the work of a moment. And now with a quick turn of the hand she slipped the new hot coal from the tongs into the iron, shut the little door, and only then noticed that Frau Doerr was still waiting for an answer. But to make sure, the good woman asked the question over again and added: "Is he coming to-day?" "Yes. At least he promised to."