Grantville Gazette 45

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Margarethe Klein looked at the half-carved wooden figure on her workbench and tried not to break out in tears. Even though she had been carving dolls since she was a little girl at her parents' knees, she could not seem to create anything that resembled the up-timers' famous Barbie dolls. In fact, her latest effort resembled something like a monster instead of a graceful lady of fashion.

The image she had acquired after months of searching and most of her savings was of little help. The head had been the easiest part, not dissimilar from the heads Margarethe was used to creating for her regular dolls, the poupee des modes she made to order, but the body was beyond her. Because the doll in the picture wore a full length gown, Margarethe had no way of knowing the doll's true proportions, how the joints moved, or her true size.

Gazing at the shiny paper she had taken from the magazine Julius Wolf had sold her, Margarethe fervently wished she had access to the market the merchant had told her of, the one called EBay. It sounded like the miracle from the Lord she needed right now. It was almost, almost enough to make one turn Catholic.

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