Mama came up behind him. “We ran out of firewood yesterday, [but] the blacksmith has a lot, I’m sure he’ll give you as much as you want, given your work.”

“I haven’t finished the dollhouse.” Papa stared at the dying embers. Almost no heat came from them at all.

“I won’t be accused of being a beggar! And I won’t have us without wood, not on the Lord’s Day!” Papa pulled away from Mama and began to quickly dress.

“But what, what are you going to do?” Mama was clearly perplexed.