"I am the A.T.," I said impressively, indicating the red brassard of
office presented to me by the Food Controller. "In case you do not know
what that means, I am the Appropriator of Tubers. A tuber, Sir, is a
potato. Now it has been brought to the notice of my chief, the Food
Controller, that certain vendors of vegetables are seeking to defraud
the public by selling as potatoes a totally different kind of vegetable
disguised with colouring matter and rubbed with earth."

I paused to allow this weighty announcement to sink in. My audience
gaped. I continued--

"Acting on orders received from the Controller I am making a series of
surprise inspections with a view to discovering the guilty parties, who
will be proceeded against under section A, subsection 2, paragraph 1,769
of Part III. of King's Reg's.--I mean, the Defence of the Realm Act. I
particularly wish you to understand," I went on ruthlessly, nipping an
indignant protest in the bud, "that I do not for a moment allege,
suggest or insinuate that you specifically are one of these
potato-swindlers; nevertheless I have my duty to do, and I must ask you
here and now to lay out your entire stock for inspection."

The flabby individual wiped his forehead and signed to a trembling
assistant.

"Get 'em art," he said. "Fer Gawd's sake, get 'em art!"

Six bushel baskets of the precious vegetables were brought and laid in a
row at my feet.

"Perhaps, Madam," I said, turning to Mrs. Marrow, "you will be so kind