By the time Kelty had a good bed of coals to keep the hearth fire going, her grandfather was coming in from his morning chores.

"Is that water heated yet?" The way he spoke it sounded like hetted.

"Yes, Papa. It's good and hot..."

"Don't Papa me, girl. And piping hot, mind you. I'd rather not shave with cold water." It sounded like Druther.

"Piping," she said with her eyes on the floor.

"Bring it along, then," her grandfather snapped. "And mind you don't spill."

Kelty hefted the kettle and brought it to the basin. As her grandfather commanded, she didn't spill a drop.