In the narrow courtyard outside my house, my stable-keeper Benoit dropped his jaw to see us, a pair of buckets swinging from a yolk across his shoulders.

The comely young woman in galoshes, empty buckets swinging on the yoke, ran ahead of him to fetch water from the well.

I went back to the airlock with my empty buckets swinging, wondering if they'd get hot enough to melt.

When he came tearing back with two empty buckets swinging from each hand, there was a fresh commotion at the fireplace; a new hissing had begun, smoke spewed out, and Frank Dawson came staggering backwards.

The small, thin girl turned and began to walk toward the ancient church, the empty bucket swinging easily by her side.