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Show 83 the washer worked the cork free. A jet of boiling water shot against my leg. It was not a matter of applying something very quickly. I had first to pull down my woolen stocking, pull up my fleeced underwear. About a cupful of my cooked flesh came with it. Mama had one remedy for burns. She grabbed a handful of butter out of the butter-bowl and slapped it against my burn, lifted me into bed and covered it with a towel. The pain stopped until the butter melted and then I screamed. More butter was applied, and more. Mama normally was frugal with butter, even though we had plenty, but this time she was lavish. My burn healed without a scar. The first washer powered by electricity was a cumbersome thing with a sliding wringer and a platform long enough for two tubs. The dolley was motor-driven by a belt, and a shaft ran lengthwise under it. You can trust a child to get into impossible places, so Rachel crawled under the washer. The grease on the shaft caught her fine hair and peeled her bald from her forehead to her crown. "My s a i r ! " she cried, when it came off. Rachel had been born two years before, on the eleventh of February, 1915. Grandma came too nurse Mama,, and she and Papa didn't like the name Mama picked for ner, Louise. Grandma wanted her named Rachel, for Mama's sister, and also for Grandma's half-sister, Rachel Lewis. Papa like a popular name, La Rue, so she became Rachel La Rue, but |