While Greyfur Rat had Jerry wrapped around her finger, Annan went out with Martin to buy Firewood, a basket on his arm.
After three carefree years of growing up, Martin had become a big... boy, inheriting both Aunt Susan's and Uncle Holin's impressive proportions.
He had grown a beard, the mark of a man. His haircut, though, was Aunt Susan's usual style: a goofy mushroom cut.
Their relationship with Annan had not changed the family's down-to-earth outlook. Uncle Holin was now a foreman, and Aunt Susan was the guiding spirit of a group of women. They had not turned into a noble family that had risen on Annan's coattails.
The only problem was that Annan had not changed in three years. Beside Martin, who stood a head taller, he looked like Martin's younger cousin...
They stepped into the firewood shop. A young clerk stood with her back to them, stacking firewood in a corner.
"I'll take ten pounds of oak," Martin said.
The young clerk did not see Annan. Without turning around, she said, "Oak Firewood has gone up. It's ten Copper Coins for three pounds now."
"How much was yesterday's?"
"Eight Copper Coins for three pounds."
Martin folded his arms. "I'll take yesterday's."
Before long, Martin and Annan returned home with ten pounds of firewood for thirty Copper Coins.
In his booming voice, Martin told Aunt Susan that firewood had gone up in price.
"Really? Is that true, little Annan?" Aunt Susan did not believe him.
"Mm. Oak firewood really did go up to ten Copper Coins for three pounds, but she only charged us thirty Copper Coins on my account." Annan would never lie to his family.
Aunt Susan looked down at the sixty-six Copper Coins Martin had handed her and gripped her broom.
Today's meal was broom-fried