She appears to have been putting a patch in a dishtowel.
"Here, if you'd be so kind as to help me we'll have supper in a jiffy," says Mrs. Beaver, and she directs the girls to various kitchen tasks. Mr. Beaver is back soon with fish, which are presently sizzling away.
"Can I ask you something?" Bella says to Mrs. Beaver.
"Of course."
"I can guess where the fish is coming from, because fish can live under ice, but where'd the rest of the food come from?"
"The ham was a trade for some fish - there are some dwarves a bit west who grow mushrooms deep underground where it's cool but not so terribly frigid, and the pigs can eat those and a few scraps and be quite happy about it and then there are hams - and the vegetables and the butter and so on are all from the cornucopia, which visited us just last month and if the cold does us no other favors at least it will let things keep."
"...A visiting cornucopia," repeats Bella.
"Oh, without it more of us would be working for the Witch's promises of provisions," shudders Mrs. Beaver. "Not us, we'd never, but the odd soul might."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-06-22 06:47 pm (UTC)"Here, if you'd be so kind as to help me we'll have supper in a jiffy," says Mrs. Beaver, and she directs the girls to various kitchen tasks. Mr. Beaver is back soon with fish, which are presently sizzling away.
"Can I ask you something?" Bella says to Mrs. Beaver.
"Of course."
"I can guess where the fish is coming from, because fish can live under ice, but where'd the rest of the food come from?"
"The ham was a trade for some fish - there are some dwarves a bit west who grow mushrooms deep underground where it's cool but not so terribly frigid, and the pigs can eat those and a few scraps and be quite happy about it and then there are hams - and the vegetables and the butter and so on are all from the cornucopia, which visited us just last month and if the cold does us no other favors at least it will let things keep."
"...A visiting cornucopia," repeats Bella.
"Oh, without it more of us would be working for the Witch's promises of provisions," shudders Mrs. Beaver. "Not us, we'd never, but the odd soul might."