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Updated: September 7, 2025
Reist in conversation, with an occasional deeper note in Uncle Amos's slow, contented voice. "Do you know," said Martin, "I was never much of a hand to remember poetry, but there's one verse I read at school that keeps coming to me since I know you are going to marry me. That verse about 'A perfect woman, nobly planned To warn, to comfort, and command." "Oh, no, Martin!
On the day before market several members of the Reist household were kept busy preparing all the produce, and the next day before dawn Uncle Amos hitched the horse to the big covered wagon and he and Millie, sometimes Amanda and Philip, drove over the dark country roads to the city. Amanda enjoyed the work.
It'll be a great day for me this year. By the way, I saw Amanda Reist a number of times since I'm here. Perhaps you'll be interested to know that Amanda's promised to marry me congratulate me!" "To marry you! Amanda?" Martin's face blanched and his heart seemed turned to lead. "Why not?" The other laughed softly. "I'm not as black as I'm painted, you know."
She always counted the days as the time drew near when the moccasins bloomed. When Isabel Souders arrived at the Reist farmhouse she found Amanda ready with basket and trowel for the lady-slipper hunt. Amanda had put on a simple white dress and green-and-white sun hat. She looked with bewilderment at the city girl's attire, but said nothing just then.
We have to take what comes to us Let us then be up and doing, With a heart for any fate. I'm glad I don't have to write poetry like that! June 8th. Howdy-do, Brother Bobolink! How in the world did you guess I was coming this way? Es ist nun einmal so. Kein Dichter reist incognito!
"Would you have us different?" "No no we wouldn't have you different. Many of the best men would be mere brutes if women's pity and tenderness and forgiveness were taken out of their lives we wouldn't have you different." The following Sunday at noon Martin passed the Reist farmhouse as he drove his mother and several of the children to Mennonite church at Landisville.
Uncle Amos sank into an old-fashioned rocker with high back and curved arms, built throughout for the solid comfort of its occupants. Mrs. Reist chose an old hickory Windsor chair, Aunt Rebecca selected, with a sigh of relief, a fancy reed rocker, given in exchange for a book of trading stamps. "This here's the best chair in the house and it didn't cost a cent," she announced as she rocked in it.
This faculty of using apparently useless material and fashioning from it a useful and beautiful article is one of our Pennsylvania Dutch heritages and one we should cherish and develop. "I understand there has been some adverse criticism among a few of the less liberal patrons of the community in regard to the basket work and nature study Miss Reist is teaching. Oh, I suppose we must expect that!
"No, I'll do it," she said in a determined voice. "Give me the baby," said Mrs. Reist, "then you children can go play." The little tot ran to her outstretched arms and was soon laughing at her soft whispers about young chickens to feed and ducks to see. "Now," Amanda cried happily, "since Mom keeps the baby we'll roast corn and apples under the kettle."
They left the Reist farmhouse early in the morning, a cold, gray winter day. "Say, Millie," he said soon after they began the drive, "I want to talk with you." "Well," she answered dryly, "what's to keep you from doin' so? Here I am. Go on." "Ach, Millie, now don't get obstreperous! Manda's mom would like to sell the farm and move to Lancaster to a little house. Then she wouldn't need me nor you."
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