Chop up a stick of celery, a sprig of parsley, a carrot, an onion.
Our agriculture is precarious, and 27 every carrot is bought by the sweat of our brow.
Then, as Madame Francois turned her head away, he put the carrot to his mouth.
After a while the boy got hungry and dug into his pocket for the carrot.
Widely, eagerly, he opened his mouth, to close his teeth upon—a carrot.