They quitted the house by a little steep path leading down the mountain, which in two or three minutes brought them to a clear bit of ground. It was not large, but lying very prettily among the trees, with an open view to the east and south-east. On the extreme edge and at the lower end of it was fixed a rude bench, well sheltered by the towering forest trees. Here Alice and Ellen sat down. It was near sunset, the air cool and sweet, the evening light upon field and sky. "How fair it is!" said Alice musingly. "How fair and lovely! Look at those long shadows of the mountains, Ellen, and how bright the light is on the far hills. It won't be so long. A little while more, and our Indian summer will be over; and then the clouds, the frost, and the wind, and the snow. Well, let them come." "I wish they wouldn't, I am sure," said Ellen. "I am sorry enough they are coming." "Why? All seasons have their pleasures. I am not sorry at all. I like the cold very much." "I guess you wouldn't, Miss Alice, if you had to wash every morning where I do." "Why, where is that?" "Down at the spout." "At the _spout_! What is that, pray?" "The spout of water, ma'am, just down a little way from the kitchen door. The water comes in a little long, very long trough from a spring at the back of the pig-field, and at the end of the trough, where it pours out, is the spout." "Have you no conveniences for washing in your room?" "Not a sign of such a thing, ma'am. I have washed at the spout ever since I have been here," said Ellen, laughing in spite of her vexation. "And do the pigs share the water with you?" "The pigs? Oh no, ma'am. The trough is raised up from the ground on little heaps of stones. They can't get at the water, unless they drink at the spring, and I don't think they do that, so many big stones stand around it." "Well, Ellen, I must say that it is rather uncomfortable, even without any danger of four-footed society." "It isn't so bad just now," said Ellen, "in this warm weather, but in that cold time we had a week or two back, do you remember, Miss Alice?--just before the Indian summer began?--oh, how disagreeable it was! Early in the morning, you know, the sun scarcely up, and the cold wind blowing my hair and my clothes all about, and then that board before the spout, that I have to stand on, is always kept wet by the spattering of the water, and it's muddy besides and very slippery--there's a kind of green stuff comes upon it, and I can't stoop down for fear of muddying myself. I have to tuck my clothes round me and bend over as well as I can, and fetch up a little water to my face in the hollow of my hand, and of course I have to do that a great many times before I get enough. I can't help laughing," said Ellen, "but it isn't a laughing matter for all that."