Night Soil Girl
Gardening with Rose
Admiral Biscuit
At the end of the second day, I was completely exhausted. Honey Dipper had been so pleased with the help I’d been giving her that she increased her schedule. We emptied two outhouses in the morning, and after lunch we filled her wagon completely with pails.
I could imagine how difficult and time-consuming that must have been for her. Without an assistant, she’d have had to unhitch each time, do her work, shuffle the barrels around in the wagon, and then hitch back up before going to her next jobsite.
Not only did she not have to unhook from the wagon, but I could just lift empty barrels over the side, which saved time as I added full ones to the collection.
“I’ve never really had to use the brakes for pailhouses,” she remarked. “Usually isn’t enough weight in the wagon to need them.”
“Just don’t go expecting that I’m going to be much help if you get stuck at the bottom of a hill.” How would that work? Did ponies have CAA? If so, did they send out another pony in harness to help tow? I did occasionally see larger wagons being pulled by two or four ponies, but I wasn’t sure exactly how that arrangement worked. Were the extra ponies attached to the wagon, or to each other?
•••
We had time to empty out the barrels—she would need them if we kept up our fast schedule—but not enough time to mix it in with the other compost.
At the end of the workday, we went right to the spa, only stopping by my house long enough for me to change into clean clothes. I didn’t really like doing that, but I was sure that nobody wanted me to walk into the spa with manure-spotted clothes.
We’d worked late and missed the bulk of the tradesponies, which made it feel more comfortable. Of course, that meant that there was a different set of curious eyes watching as I got undressed and walked into the showers, but that was less weird than it had been yesterday.
Plus, I’d earned this shower. Moreso than the last one.
I still didn’t dally too much, even though I wanted to. The hot water helped to relax my aching back.
“Do you still need help tomorrow?”
Honey Dipper nodded. “There are still plenty of houses. And the fresh manure needs to be mixed in, we’ll have to do that. Maybe I’ll do it tonight.”
I had a sudden vision of her working the piles by lantern. “How far behind are you?”
“A lot less than I was. You’ve been really helpful, Sam.”
I blushed slightly at the compliment, and she noticed. “No, really. I don’t get a lot of help.”
“I don’t see why not,” I said, not entirely in jest. She paid quite well.
“Ponies just don’t want to shovel manure. Well, a lot of Earth Ponies don’t mind, but the ones that have farms of their own never have time to help out. Sometimes when I’m really behind I give a discount to ponies who will help turn compost piles.”
“Back on Earth—where I come from—there are always people worried about their jobs going overseas. I guess that’s something you’ll never have to worry about.”
“I would like to travel,” she said brightly. “I’ve heard in Neighpon they have bespelled toilets—I’d like to see one of those.”
I thought about saying that she’d missed the point, but if ponies hadn’t started offshoring jobs yet, I wasn’t going to be the one to put the idea in their heads.
•••
I hadn’t slept as well as I thought I would, due to entire new muscle groups aching. Once again, I thought of Mike Rowe, and how he’d get along in Equestria. Would he be waiting in line at Sugarcube Corner, his body aching and his mind fuzzy?
And thinking about television got me to thinking about Gordon Ramsay—what would he make of pony cooking? I had yet to see any of them wearing any kind of hoof glove or mane-net.
“Sam?”
“Sorry.” I turned my attention back to Pinkie PIe. “I was lost in the clouds.”
“Really? Your feet are still on the ground.” She leaned over the counter to verify.
“It’s a human expression. It should be a pegasus expression, too. What do pegasi say when they’re distracted thinking?”
“I’ve heard Dashie say one of her weatherponies was off gathering mist.”
“Hmm. I like that.” I glanced back down at the display case. “Do you know if Honey Dipper has a particular favorite breakfast snack?”
“Ooh, she loves the raspberry oat bread.”
I nodded, and Pinkie Pie cut off a thick slice and wrapped it in paper for me. It was heavier than I’d expected; it felt more like fruitcake than bread.
Hopefully she hadn’t eaten a big breakfast. Although if she had, she could save the bread for lunch.
•••
Honey Dipper ate the bread while I was loading up her wagon. It felt a little strange to not have her hitched to it while I worked. Still, it would be a nice break for her, and I’d gotten accustomed to my new job and didn’t need as much instruction any more.
The same held true when we got to our worksites. That was strange to think about, how a couple of days ago I hadn’t had the slightest idea how to empty outhouses and now I was practically a pro at it.
We filled the time which had formerly been occupied with instructions with conversation, although I stayed away from one topic which interested me, but which I thought it might be rude to ask about: how did Honey Dipper get her cutie mark? How did she get an interest in composting poop? Some ponies were more than willing to talk about how they got their cutie marks, while others seemed more reluctant. Her job didn’t seem like the kind of thing a pony should aspire to, even if it was necessary.
Back on Earth, were there people who aspired to be ditch-diggers or garbage men or septic tank pumpers? Or did they just take the job because it was available? For most people it had to be the latter. Didn’t it?
Then again, a hands-on job like this was nearly recession-proof, and it couldn’t be offshored. Even back on Earth, job security and higher wages covered some unpleasant careers.
“Do ponies import things from other places?” I frowned—I knew the answer to that; Cherilee had implied that they did.
“Yeah.” Honey Dipper nodded. “I got my wagon from an outfit in Manehattan, Bittmeyer and Small. ‘Cause it’s got a patented dump mechanism, which is really convenient. Before that, I just had a plain wagon and had to shovel it out myself.”
“We have self-propelled wagons and carriages,” I told her. “And they all get sold on big lots, sort of like the market.”
“I found mine in a catalog. I took some of the boards off the side, ‘cause I didn’t need them to be that high. I kept the original sideboards, though, so if I want to sell it I can put them back on. I’d probably have to have the wainwright replace the floorboards, though. I don’t think that anypony would want to use it like it is right now.”
“Probably not.” I bent back to my task, imagining that there were wagon detail shops. “Do ponies like to show off their wagons?”
“Sometimes.” She grinned. “Especially if somepony’s got a new one; that’s the talk of Ponyville for a while. I didn’t use mine for work until after the Plowpony Parade. Decked it out with flower garlands and that was a lot of fun. I’d never been in a parade before.
“It wasn’t as fun as watching the parade, though, ‘cause I could only really get a look at the tailboard of the wagon in front of me. Do humans have parades?”
“Yeah, for holidays like Canada Day and sometimes just for fun. If the Canucks ever win the Stanley Cup, there’ll probably be a big parade for them. I’ve never been in one, though. There’s a really famous one in New York City for Thanksgiving, that’s on the TV, and I’ve watched that a couple of times. They even have giant balloons that they tow along.”
“Giant balloons? That sounds fun—is that for the pegasi?”
“We don’t have those,” I said. “Humans are all just like me. Well, except for Courtney, the Vancouver mermaid.”
“Mermaid? Is that like a merpony?”
“Arms and a fishy tail?”
“Yeah.”
“You have merponies in Equestria? Real merponies?”
“You just said—”
“Courtney’s fake. She has a fake tail.”
“Oh.”
I scooped the last big shovelful of manure into the bucket and climbed out of the pit. There was a little residue left on the walls, but that would be covered again soon enough.
“I’ve never seen a real merpony,” Honey Dipper said. “Or a mermare as some ponies call them. But they’re real! I heard that there was a travelling show that came to Ponyville once that had merponies who swam in the lake and did all sorts of tricks. And you could swim with them after the show.”
“We do have seahorses. They’re really small, though, and don’t look too much like actual horses.”
•••
The showers felt as good as always.
I hadn’t even bothered with panties this time—it wasn’t like the ponies would care. Besides, the ones I’d worn for work were sweaty, and it wasn’t worth dirtying another pair.
What if I wore my bathrobe to the spa? I considered it, but that wasn’t really something to wear around town, was it?
This time, I’d almost invited Honey Dipper in, but changed my mind at the last minute, my old human instincts of playing good host nagging at me again. It felt less rude to have her wait outside than to stand awkwardly in the living room while I was upstairs in my bedroom changing.
Of course, I could have changed right in front of her and it wasn’t like she’d have seen anything she hadn’t already.
I didn’t feel as comfortable nude around any other pony except Rose. What did that mean? Was it the bond of two people who had to do a dirty job together? There was certainly a bit more camaraderie with my fellow painters than I’d ever felt with classmates, so that might have been it. Or maybe it was just the vibe I got from her that she trusted me and believed in me since I could and would do what most other ponies wouldn’t. How many applicants had she gotten who were gone by lunchtime, never to return?
Would this wind up being my place in Ponyville? The pay was good, I couldn’t deny that. Ponies might not trust me to work in the spa, but they could trust me to empty their pailhouses without getting manure all over the grass.
What if that was the life I was destined for? Was that the punchline of a cosmic joke?
I let the hot water beat down on my back and looked around. There were ponies clustered around showerheads, some of them washing each other, and now that I really looked, now that I’d gotten over my initial apprehension, I wondered if Honey Dipper would have had a friend wash her normally. If I hadn’t been there.
Or would she have been on her own, regardless?
What would she say to a stallion if she was on a date? Assuming that the stallion in question didn’t already know what she did for a living, that is. I wanted to ask, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.
Was the right thing to offer to wash her mane for her? Or to keep my hands off, to maintain a proper employer/employee relationship?
“Sam?”
I snapped back to the present. “Sorry. Just had my head in—just gathering mist.”
She snorted. “Not from down here you won’t.”
“I suppose not. Although there is plenty available.” I crouched down to get at her level. “Do you need me again tomorrow?”
“If you’re willing.”
•••
I wound up working two more days with Honey Dipper, which got her completely caught up on her schedule, and I went home at the end of it with more bits in my pocket than I'd ever had before.
There were a bunch of little things I could have spent them on, but I wanted to save as many as possible for the wintertime. I knew that historically winters were tough, and I was a bit worried about running out of food. That probably wouldn't happen, but there certainly could be an increase in food prices, and having more money saved up would really help out.
That was something I could ask Tenderheart about. If the ponies had it handled, if they brought in fresh food by train during the winter, it might just come off as a silly human worry to her, and if not, I’d know.
After Honey Dipper and I finished our evening shower, I stopped by Rose’s house. Lily eyed me suspiciously, but relaxed a bit once Rose and I sat on the couch and went back to her flower catalog.
I don’t think she meant for me to notice, but I saw when she sniffed at me, no doubt to make sure that I’d completely washed off the day’s labor.
“Do you need help in the garden tomorrow? Honey Dipper’s all caught up.” Lily twitched at the mention of her name. “I could still look at the job board, I guess, but I don’t really feel like it.”
Rose nodded, then glanced over at Lily. “We—I’d appreciate that.”
A thought was forming at the back of my mind. “What’s the weather supposed to be like tomorrow? Is it going to be cold or rain?”
“No, it’s going to be sunny and warm.”
“I could, maybe, since your garden is kind of private, I might—” I thought about Honey Dipper and I showering alone. I could push myself a little bit more; I’d be somewhere safe, with a friend close.
What was the best way to phrase it?
Lily, I noticed, had one ear focused on us even though she was pretending to read a seed catalog.
“Well, I could not . . . I could go—” Why beat around the bush? “—nude.”
That got Lily’s other ear to pay attention.
“Really?”
“Sure,” I said with more confidence than I was feeling. “It’s no big deal, right? All of you are—” as naked as the day you were born— “you know, so why not?”
“You don’t have to,” Rose said. “If that will make you feel uncomfortable.”
“It won’t.” That wasn’t likely to be true, and I was already regretting what I’d said, but it was too late to take it back. I couldn’t back down. Even if I wasn’t sure I was actually ready for it.
It would have been smarter to just offer to help and then see what kind of mood I was in come tomorrow, but procrastination didn’t make progress. And she was my friend; it was a silly thing to get worked up about. If I could take a shower with Honey Dipper, surrounded by a bunch of strangers, what did it say about me if I couldn’t do this?
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An so sweet! She is so bashful around the one she loves.
Yay! More Rose! Now, to read...
Nude + roses = very brief amount of time before she puts pants back on.
Then again, horses are not allergic to some things we are...
Then again, she could be one of the 15% who don't itch.
9667021
Reminds me of Terry Pratchetts comments on Witches going skyclad in the woods. Great word, love the idea, but someone's bound to step on a hedgehog.
After 5 chapters, we get to the gardening, with nightsoil.
When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Just might take a while to do it, though.
You know things are getting bad when someone manages to work out a way to make it too expensive to shift effluent.
Sure, everybody shits on the ditch digger 'til the rain starts.
Oh you. You and your youness.
Also, I was about to complain over the lack of some Rose. Glad you got her back in this chapter, as much fun as Honey Dipper is. I do hope she comes back though, maybe stops by Rose's to visit Sam, and they all become friends!
9667471
Do you know who Joseph Baselgette is? Oh, only the guy whose the reason London had a functional sewer system for over a hundred years.
9667021 "It's a member of the Sumac family" suddenly made me wonder if there's a family named Sumac, like there's a family named Apple.
I just got a simple bidet seat. Really basic with no electronics or air drying or anything. Works nice for times when I overdo it on hummus and hard cider.
9667541
I usually get the Admiral's references but I need help with this one.
9667641
Okay. Your point?
9668583
I'm not sure if he's actually parodying an old school company (I thought there was a wagon company called Whittmeyer, but I'm not finding it with the googles) but "Bittmeyer and Smalls" just sounds like such a pony named company, as well as a early 1800's style company name. It's all puns! Bits, and they're all small! I just loved the idea. Maybe Admiral will grace us with his thinking, because I know he's well known for his play on vintage names... I just can't place it, and honestly, it's just so perfect the way it is.
9666905
9666940
Yay!
9667021
As long as she’s reasonably careful, she’s not going to get stabbed or scratched any more than she would if she was wearing shorts. Probably just going running through the roses without clothes is a bad idea, though.
Yes, and you raise a good point here. I’ve considered covering this in a fic involving hard liquor; the ponies can distill it in a way that’s drinkable for them but poison to humans, and there are very much plants that would poison a human which are fine for horses, as well as the other way around.
Also worth a brief mention, in one story I’m working on, the protagonist is named for a plant which is okay for horses but toxic to bovines.
Now I’ve got the idea of a restaurant offering a poison ivy salad.
9667048
Skyclad is a great word.
Never mind hedgehogs, biting insects would be a problem, and the more flesh that’s exposed, the more they have to go for.
EDIT: also, two other thoughts. First, if you go barefoot all the time, you do build up stronger feet. Calluses, thicker skin, whatever. I’ve done the same with my hands, because of my job.
Second, at first sunburn would be a problem. Over time, that’s something that you skin would adapt to, possibly, but not at first. If sunscreen isn’t available, caution is required.
9667102
Yes, we do. Who knows, the flower trio might buy compost from Honey Dipper to add to their flowers. If they don’t make enough of their own, anyway.
9667254
Yes, exactly.
Culture shock and taboos take a while to get over. I can’t help but think the difference in species might make it easier or harder, depending on the person. If she found herself in a human nudist colony, she might more quickly adapt . . . or not, I suppose.
9667265
From what I’ve heard, that’s been a problem in Africa, where well-meaning first-world nations have helped them build modern water treatement plants . . . and then left, and the locals can’t afford to keep the system going. One solution that’s been suggested is raising fish in the last few settling tanks--the fish help clean the water, and can be sold to get the stuff needed for the earlier parts of the system.
9667471
I know, right?
I bet ponies would get upset really quick if Honey Dipper decided she didn’t want to empty outhouses any more. I bet after a while, ponies would pay her whatever she asked to make their problem go away, because you know damn well a lot of them wouldn’t be doing it.
9667541
The second part of the story does focus more on Sam and Rose, you’ll be happy to hear.
I’m sure Rose and the rest of the flower trio already know her; it’s a safe bet that they occasionally buy some of her compost, plus of course she’d be the pony who you stay well clear of when you see her hauling a wagon through town.
9667641
He’s not memorialized in the history books like other figures (at least, not here in the US), but I did know that there was one particular summer when the Thames wasn’t whisking the waste away any more and things got bad enough that Parliament actually got something done.
I’ve actually seen a couple of videos on YouTube about that.
9667794
I mean, why not? If ponies can eat the stuff, and if they like it, than there’s certain to be ponies who grow it.
In the context of a HiE, the ponies probably wouldn’t even add the ‘poison’ to the name of the plant, since to them it isn’t. Certainly a problem for a human if they go to Hayburger and order an ivy salad.
EDIT: now that I’m thinking about it, I wonder if you could ferment it and make some kind of poison ivy beer, and if you did, if it would still cause a reaction? I can’t imagine that anybody has actually tried that.
EDIT EDIT: I just now found a recipe for beer made with oak leaves and carrots, which seems like something a pony would love.
9667975
I haven’t got anything fancy like that.
I’ll be honest, the one thing I have against bidets (and I’ve never used one) is that it might go rogue one day and . . . well, I don’t think I’d enjoy that too much.
9668880 9668583
The reference is to the Pennsylvania railroad coach (and ironworks, apparently) company Billmeyer and Small.
As is my wont, I found them by looking through various lists online until I found something that seemed appropriately pony.
Of all the various company names I’ve found in research, I’m still most happy with Speedwell Ironworks in Drive.
9671244
I doubt many ponies would like emptying outhouses, but it's not as physical laobur for them (though hauling the wagon would be) and the money's probably decent.
9668870
Unappreciated ditchdiggers
I still can't imagine the smell. I don't blame Rose doing a sniff check. Oh, wait, Rose is back!!!.
I love how Sam is progressing in pony society. Thanks for the update!
9671338
The downsides are the smell, the wasps, and the smell. If a pony can get over that, and the potential psychological disgust at the job, it’s probably not all that bad. And yeah, one advantage to having a job that nopony else wants is that the pay tends to be better, because what other options are there?
9673402
Honestly, horse manure doesn’t smell all that bad. Certainly not compared to other types of manure.
Well, it wouldn’t be a Sam and Rose story without Rose.
Small steps, but she’s getting there.
You’re welcome!
9673769
Oh, I know. I spent 4 years in a little town in the Texas Panhandle surrounded by cattle ranches and dairy farms.
You get used to the smell after awhile though.
9673616
Noseplugs help - and I bet there's a spell, if they can learn it. Wasps are a bother to anypony... but a unicorn could probably still defend themselves better. A pity that Ponyville just doesn't have any that seem interested - but I suppose if Silver Spanner was seen as bending the rules...
9673962
I’ve honestly lived in the country long enough that the smell of cow s
t reminds me of spring. 
Unless it’s pigs. Pigs are horrible.
9673972
Or the pony equivalent of Vicks--I’ve heard that first responders use that for bad cases.
It would depend on how much effort it takes to maintain an anti-wasp spell. If it’s low-cost to an average unicorn, yeah, sure, but if it tires them out, than an Earth pony might do better . . . assuming that they’ve got a better grasp of wasps, anyway.
My own method which has generally work is give the bastards a wide berth, and we get along okay. And if it comes down to it, run like hell.
I would think that there would be some unicorns that might do it if they were lacking other work...but like Sam noted, Honey Dipper’s ads on the board often go unanswered, since there’s usually other options available.
Aquaman can help with that...
redstate.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/Mike-Lee.png
9675329 I just shove tissue paper up my nose when dealing with smelly chemicals and things in the lab.
It also helped when I used to have terrible nasal allergies and colds... to dam up the rivers of snot temporarily.
Felt nice rereading this little episodic series with Sam and Rose. Nice to see a new one spawn out. Those more honest takes of HiE stuck and adapting to life are usually my favorite. Slice of Life is pretty chill that way.
I'm a have to find time and make a folder for HiE if this keeps up.
Hey I don't suppose you know any good SL fics around of any decent length? My selection is starting to wane quite a bit.
9702064
I suppose that would work; I’ve never tried it.
Likewise . . . I usually just sneeze a lot and want to gouge out my eyeballs. Especially around cats. Damn cats.
9719361
Thanks!
Oh, you totally should. That’s a folder that everyone needs, IMHO.
Erm, I don’t know what you define as ‘decent length,’ but two that come to mind straightaway are Celefin’s Track Switch series (PoE) and also for a large part Starscribe’s The Last Pony on Earth. There was some stuff I didn’t really agree with in that, but for the most part it was nice. Also, The Maretian is pretty good.
Also digging way back, I enjoyed Featherprop’s The Last Link.
Careful Sam, you'll start to develop and exhibitionistic streak.
That, or she just wants to show off for Rose.
11020962
Or else that’s just a way to help fit in with the ponies . . . wear what they wear.
11021572
...she is going to skin a pony for its coat then. Or at least that would be my next step
11038746
Well, that’s a dark twist.
She could just get one of those Fluttershy suits like Pinkie Pie has.
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11039373
smile smile smile.....