Chapter 17

There were days when I felt like a Clydesdale, pulling the plough and tilling an endless field. The harness weighed heavy around my neck and shoulders, but I had no way to remove it on my own. The leather bit into my skin, as I strained against the weight I must drag behind me.

Today is most certainly one of those days.

We started extra early. With the ball that night, our workload seemed to quadruple. They all wanted special baths and their hair washed, which meant lugging hot water up to their rooms because we had no money to plumb in the bathroom. Father had planned one before the war. The room was built and tiled and held a divine claw-foot bath, but the pipes were never connected. Now it seemed like an extravagant luxury. I was quite happy with the tin bath in the kitchen; it was closer to both the water source and the range to heat it. But no, they had to bathe upstairs in the fancy, useless room.

I was nearly done for the evening. The horses munched on their feed in the barn