Tevye the Dairyman
With a little help from God, there I was penniless, poor as a beggar, with a wife and kids, starving to death three times a day, not counting suppers, may it not happen to any Jew. […] all I got was half a ruble a day, and not every day at that. Just try to feed, kayn eyn horeh, a houseful of hungry mouths, may they stay healthy... (2.3)
"Say now," I said, "can you be Boruch-Hersh Leah-Dvossi's son-in-law?"
"You got that right," he said to me. "I am a son-in-law of Leah-Dvossi's and my wife's name is Sheyne-Sheyndl, Boruch-Hersh Leah-Dvossi's daughter. Now do you remember who I am?"
"Be quiet a minute," I said. "I believe your mother-in-law's grandmother Sora-Yente and my wife's aunt Frume-Zlate were cousins, and if I'm not mistaken you are the middle son-in-law of Boruch-Hersh Leah-Dvossi's." (3.9-11)
"If you want to know, I can barely pull together a hundred, and there are eighteen holes to fill with it. First of all, I have to marry off a daughter—"
"Listen to me," he said, "that's the point I'm making! When, Reb Tevye, will you have another chance to put in a hundred and take out, God willing, so much that you will have enough to marry off your daughter and then some?" (3.35-36)