"I will be as soon as I get awake," he answered, as he started for the
rain barrel for water to wash.

As the water in the well was hard, rain water was used for washing,
except in winter, when the barrels were frozen solidly. The early
spring rains had filled the barrels again, but as the night had been
cold, ice had frozen over the top. His uncle had been to the barrel
ahead of him and broken the ice, so he dipped up the basin full of
water, and placing it on a bench on the porch, washed his face and
hands.

Above the wash bench, summer and winter, hung the roller towel, and
near by the mirror and family horn comb. In the dark the mirror was of
doubtful use, but with a few well-directed strokes of the comb he
managed to get a semblance, at least, of neatness to his hair. He
shivered a little as he finished--just as his uncle appeared, milk
pails and lantern in hand.

"I want you to do the milking from now on, Bob, for it's not the kind
of work a woman should do," said his uncle, and handing him the pails,
they started for the barn.

"You're right, Uncle Joe," replied Bob. "I always milked our cow at
home so mother wouldn't have to do it; besides, it doesn't take so
very long."

Bob had been taught to take good care of the family cow--a well-bred
Guernsey, whose stable had a good cement floor and was neatly
whitewashed. Once or twice a week he would curry-comb and brush her
from nose to tail. Nothing gave him greater pride than to have his