Botho pointed out this dust and was beginning a discussion with Frau Doerr about the value or harmfulness of carpets, which, viewed in this light, are mere dirt catchers, "and if one has not a very strong chest one might get consumption and never know how." But he stopped short in the middle of a sentence, because the road he had taken led past a place where the rubbish of a stone-cutter's workshop had been thrown out, and all sorts of fragments of ornaments lay about, in great numbers especially angels' heads. "There is an angel's head," said Botho. "Look, Frau Doerr. And here is even one with wings." "Yes," said Frau Doerr. "And a chubby face too. But is it really an angel? I think it must be a cupid, because it is so small and has wings." "Cupid or angel," said Botho, "they are just the same. You ask Lena, and she will tell you so. Isn't that so, Lena?" Lena seemed offended, but he took her hand and they were good friends again. Immediately behind the rubbish heap the path turned to the left and opened immediately afterwards into a somewhat larger country road where the willows were in bloom and were scattering their fleecy catkins over the fields, where they lay strewn about like cotton wool. "Look, Lena," said Frau Doerr, "do you know that they stuff beds with that now instead of feathers? And they call it tree wool." "Yes, I know, Frau Doerr. And I am always glad when people think of anything like that and make use of it. But it would never do for you." "No, Lena, it would not do for me. You are right. I am more in favor of something firm, horse hair and a spring bed, and if it gives a jump ..." "Oh, yes," said Lena, who was growing a trifle nervous over this description. "But I am afraid that we shall have rain. Just hear the frogs, Frau Doerr." "Yes, the frogs," repeated the latter. "At night they keep up such a croaking that one cannot sleep. And why? Because this is all swamp and only looks like meadow land. Look at the pool where the stork is standing and looking right over this way. Well, he isn't looking at me. He might have to look a long time. And a mighty good thing too." "But we ought really to be turning back," said Lena, who was much embarrassed, and simply wanted to say something. "Oh, no indeed," laughed Frau Doerr. "Surely not now, Lena; you mustn't get frightened at a little thing like that. Good stork, you must bring me ... Or shall I sing: Dearest stork?" And so it went on for a while yet, for it took time to get Frau Doerr away from such a favorite topic. But finally there was a pause, during which they walked slowly onward, until at last they came to a plateau-like ridge that led over from the Spree towards the Havel. Just at this point the pasture land ended and fields of rye and rape seed began and continued as far as the first rows of houses of Wilmersdorf.