"Now Sarah, if I didn't love you, you would have driven me crazy years ago," said Winnie, who was a famous general when she minded to be. "You know washing a pig in the bathtub is out of the question. I wouldn't wash him in the laundry tubs, either; we have to be nice to Mrs. Pritchard for if she deserts us like as not there'll be no more clean clothes this summer; you can't pick and choose your washwoman in the country."
"Where'll I wash him then?" asked Sarah.
"Take him out to the barns—there must be tubs there," directed Winnie. "I'll give you a piece of soap and an old towel. Don't bring the towel back, either."
"I'll hang it on a bush to dry," promised Sarah amiably. "But I have to have some hot water, Winnie; Bony is delicate and I can't give him a cold bath."
"Then he'll have to wait till to-morrow for his bath," said the wily Winnie. "The tea kettle is empty and I can't be lighting the stove to heat water just now."
"Well, I'll try the cold water," Sarah decided reluctantly, "but if Bony catches cold, you'll be sorry—that's all."
The pig under one arm and the towel and soap under the other, Sarah made for the barn and reached the big tub where the horses were watered, when Warren saw her.
"What are you going to do with that pig, Sarah?" he asked suspiciously.
"Wash him," said Sarah, beginning to weary of being questioned.
"Not in that horse tub," declared Warren. "I've just filled it for the team. That's a drinking trough, not a bathtub."