"I guess you wouldn't, Miss Alice, if you had to wash every morning where I do?"
"Why, where is that?"
"Down at the spout."
"At the spout what is that, pray?"
"The spout of water, Maam, just down a little way from the kitchen door. The water comes in a little, long, very long, trough from a spring at the back of the pig-field; and at the end of the trough, where it pours out, is the spout."
"Have you no conveniences for washing in your room?"
"Not a sign of such a thing, Maam. I have washed at the spout ever since I have been here," said Ellen, laughing in spite of her vexation.
"And do the pigs share the water with you?"
"The pigs! Oh, no, Maam; the trough is raised up from the ground on little heaps of stones; they can't get at the water, unless they drink at the spring, and I don't think they do that, so many big stones stand around it."
"Well, Ellen, I must say that is rather uncomfortable, even without any danger of four-footed society."