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Updated: June 11, 2025
Anna split pods gravely, her eyes bent on her task. The tone of her mother's voice, tart and dry, filled her mind with the sulky thoughts of youth. "There's fewer alive to-day," she said, "than when you were a girl." Mrs. Barly knew very well what her daughter meant. "Be glad there's any left," she replied, as she turned again to her shelling.
The Dress of those natives differ but little from those on the Koskoskia and Lewis's rivers, except the women who dress verry different in as much as those above ware long leather Shirts which highly ornimented with heeds Shells &c. &c. and those on the main Columbia river only ware a truss or pece of leather tied around them at their hips and drawn tite between ther legs and fastened before So as barly to hide those parts which are So Sacredly hid & Scured by our women.
And he began to think of the past. It seemed to him that he was in school again. It was spring; and the children came romping into the schoolroom, their arms full of books and flowers. Summer passed; he saw Anna Barly crying by the roadside, under the gray sky. He heard himself saying to Mrs.
And there in was a vessel of gold, fulle of manna, and clothinges and ournements and the tabernacle of Aaron, and a tabernacle square of gold, with 12 precyous stones, and a boyst of jasper grene, with 4 figures, and 8 names of oure Lord, and 7 candelstykes of gold, and 12 pottes of gold, and 4 censeres of gold, and an awtier of gold, and 4 lyouns of gold, upon the whiche thei bare cherubyn of gold, l2 spannes long, and the cercle of swannes of Hevene, with a tabernacle of gold, and a table of sylver, and 2 trompes of silver, and 7 barly loves, and alle the othere relikes, that weren before the birthe of oure Lord Jesu Crist.
Afterwards they go to diuers of their images, and giue them of their sacrifices. And when they giue, the old men say certaine prayers, and then is all holy. And in diuers places there standeth a kind of image which in their language they call Ada. And they haue diuers great stones carued, whereon they poure water, and throw thereupon some rice, wheate, barly, and some other things.
"Well, I declare," she remarked, "I feel that young." "Go away," said Mrs. Grumble; "to hear you talk . . ." She was in the best of humor. "All the young folks will be there," said Miss Beal. "I heard as how Alec Stove was going with Susie Ploughman. And there's Thomas Frye . . . and Anna Barly . . ." "Yes," said Mrs. Grumble. Miss Beal held up her thread against the light.
"Leave them be," said Mr. Crabbe, "leave them be." And he winked first at Mr. Barly, and then at Mr. Frye. "Don't go spoiling things," he said. Mr. Frye allowed his mouth to droop in a thin smile. "Young people are slow to-day," he remarked. "They act like they had something on their minds. Green fruit . . . slow to ripe. In my time we went at it smarter." And he looked thoughtfully at Anna Barly.
Anna, plump and wealthy, was a good match for any one: old Mr. Frye used to smile when he saw her. "Smooth and sweet," he used to say: "molasses . . . hm . . ." Now she stood dreaming by the stove, until her mother, climbing from the cellar, woke her with a clatter of coal. "Why, you big, awkward girl," cried Mrs. Barly, "whatever are you dreaming about?"
Not one has learned to be happy in poverty, or gentle in good fortune." "There's no poverty to-day," said Mr. Tomkins simply. It really seemed to him as though every one were well off, because the war was over. "There is more poverty to-day than ever before," said Mr. Jeminy. "Hm," said Mr. Tomkins. "Last fall," said Mr. Jeminy, "Sara Barly and Mrs. Grumble helped each other put up vegetables.
"Supper will be a little late," she said to Mr. Jeminy, "because the stove won't draw in wet weather." Mr. Jeminy, clad in a pair of brown, earthy overalls, a blue, cotton shirt, and a straw hat, full of holes, was helping Mr. Tomkins dig potatoes, up on Barly Hill. From the field on the slopes above the village, he could see the hills across the valley, misted in the sun.
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