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Updated: June 20, 2025


He IS brave in all other ways, but I ain't sure he'll ever have the courage for that, he's so afraid of them and always has been. Just remember what's in his mind all the time, Rebecca, that my folks know all about what his mother was, and how he was born on the poor-farm. Not that I care; look how he's educated and worked himself up!

"Nothin' would suit either o' you girls but choosin' the biggest enemies I've got in the whole village!" "You've never taken pains to make anything but enemies, so what could we do?" "You might as well go to live on the poor-farm! Aaron Boynton was a disrep'table hound; Lois Boynton is as crazy as a loon; the boy is a no-body's child, an' Ivory's no better than a common pauper."

"You see," he explained, "all this I did in my mind, for all the time I was a hostage in the poor-farm of broken men." The Ancient Mariner's face grew suddenly bleak and fierce, and his right hand flashed out to Daughtry's wrist, prisoning it in withered fingers of steel.

The Ancient Mariner straightened up his shoulders, threw his head back, then bowed it and repeated, "No, I never squealed. I went into the poor- house, or the county poor-farm as they call it. I lived sordidly. I lived like a beast. For six months I lived like a beast, and then I saw my way out. I set about building the Wide Awake.

Bob was disposed to make sport of this sudden friendship; but Toby paid no attention to what he said, and if any of them wanted to talk with him, they too were obliged to walk with the boy from the poor-farm. By the time they arrived at Uncle Daniel's, Toby had formed many plans for making the life of the homeless boy more cheerful than it ever had been.

Content to starve, content to freeze, if only he need not be carried into captivity. The poor-farm was not a bad place, either, if only Tom had been a reasonable being. To be sure, when Hannah Sophia Palmer asked old Mrs. Pinkham how she liked it, she answered, with a patient sigh, that "her 'n' Mr.

The story goes that she stood before it, a square, portentous figure in black alpaca and warlike mitts, and that she uttered these irrevocable words: "Pity on me! Well, I guess he won't! I'll go to the poor-farm fust!" And Monday morning, spite of his loyal dissuasions, she packed her "blue chist," and drove off to a far-away cousin, who got her "nussin'" to do.

A man has a right to keep his business to himself if he wants to, as long as he doesn't do anything that's wrong. But why didn't Zara stay? If her father was cleared and came back, they couldn't keep her at the poor-farm or make her go to work for this Farmer Weeks you speak of." "I don't know. She was afraid, and so was I. They call her a gypsy because she's so dark.

He had climbed into his beloved retreat, and, having learned nothing from experience, had mended the willow door as best he could, and laid him down in peace. The second attempt was little more successful than the first. As a place of residence, the poor-farm did not seem any more desirable or attractive on near acquaintance than it did at long range.

Autumn began to paint the maples red and the elms yellow, for the early days of September brought a frost. Some one remarked at the village store that old Blueb'ry Tom must not be suffered to stay on the plains another winter, now that he was getting so feeble, not if the "seleckmen" had to root him out and take him to the poor-farm.

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