Then came the usual careful work with the "ouncer," and the six
filled bottles were put into Nancy's own small ice-box, to which
one of the maids was then supposed to bring a small piece of ice.
The left-over milk was taken back to the kitchen, and Nancy washed
the little saucepan in her hand-basin, and put away stove and
barley. By this time Junior was ready for another bottle, and when
he went to sleep his mother went down to the laundry with an arm-
full of small garments.
There was no other way. Labour was scarce in the village, and
Nancy could get no one of the housemaids to take upon herself this
daily task. Women from the outside were not allowed in the hotel
laundry, and so the task fell naturally to the baby's mother. She
assumed it gladly, but when the line of snowy linen was blowing
free in the summer wind, and the cake of soap had been put on its
special rafter, and the tubs were draining, Nancy usually went up
to her bedroom, tiptoeing in because of the sleeper, and flung
herself down for a heavy nap.
After luncheon she gathered in her linen and watched by the
wideawake baby. Then they went down to the cool shade by the
creek, and Junior threw stones, and splashed fat hands in the
shallows, and his mother watched him adoringly.
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