I go somewhere in the tram, in the evening, the car is clogged until refusal. At one stop I see a young mother with a four-year-old child — a cute big-eyed girl in a pink pantyhose and a hat with ears. They enter the car, the conductor (sitting right behind my back) gives the child a place...and after a couple of seconds I hear a child’s voice, full of pathos: “I AM THE MASTER OF MIIIRAAA!and "
I am happy with the growing generation.)