Last winter and the winter before I always had water hauled for me. This winter, also, I intended to do it, but it all came about in this manner: Mr. Jackway was busy fishing and couldn't do it for weeks. So I went to Mine Chousine and offered to pay him the usual price of 25¢ per barrel. But he, while not absolutely refusing, didn't seem to be breaking his heart at the prospect of losing it. So in disgust I went home and lugged about 20 pails of water up the cliff. This filled one barrel.
The next morning I filled the other in the same manner. When fresh snow falls I fill a barrel with that as fast as I remove the water, and so the one in the kitchen is constantly full. Those outside catch the rain and melting snow from the roof, and when a cold wave comes and they begin to freeze solid, I empty them to keep them from bursting. At other times I merely chip a hole in the ice every morning, and so keep them from bursting. It isn't much work, and yet all these little things help to fill my days to the brim.