"Your papa says you must have your bath, and my poor old bones must ache for 't." "The bath's filled already.

If you put in one other pailful, it'll run over when I get into it." "Now, don't you play tricks with _me_, Willie.

I won't have any more of your joking," returned Tibbie.
Nettled at the way she took the information with which he had hoped to please her, he left her to carry up her pail of water; but it was the last, and she thanked him very kindly the next day.
The only remaining question was how to get rid of the bath-water.

But he soon contrived a sink on the top step of the stair outside the door, which was a little higher than the wall of the stable-yard.

From there a short pipe was sufficient to carry that water also over into the drain.
I may mention, that although a severe winter followed, the Prior's Well never froze; and that, as they were always either empty, or full of _running_ water, the pipes never froze, and consequently never burst..