It was hard enough when she stopped hunting with me. When I hunted alone, I never had any luck. Then she fell ill and died, and I was left alone in an empty house, far away from our people.

Her absence became so unbearable that I made a wooden doll her height and size, and dressed the doll in her clothes.

Now, when I come home, I see her sitting by the fire. I brush off the ash that has fallen on her face, and while I cook my supper, we talk.

The Lonely Husband in The Dead Wife, Yellow Fairy Book