Note 13 — The Magic Pail

There were, however, a few things Joan could not do; but as they were all done for her in some mysterious way, and much better than she herself could have done, it was more a matter for rejoicing than regret. Whenever she put her washing out in the backlet13 to wait till Tom had time to do it, somebody took it away, and brought it back washed and dried and ironed—all looking as white as May-blossom and smelling as sweet as moor-flowers!