Joe went down to the well and pumped a bucket of water and carried it back up to his room and stood before the mirror. He dipped the donkey stone in the bucket and held it to the glass. But before it touched he stopped.
He pulled out his handkerchief and sloshed it in the water and rubbed it on the donkey stone until the handkerchief was covered in grey. Then he rubbed the handkerchief lightly over the glass, not pressing, down and up and round and across, until none of the glass showed and there was only a panel of grit.
He rinsed the handkerchief, took the bucket downstairs and emptied it onto the yard.
‘And that,’ said Joe, ‘is that.’