Fruitlands Read Online Free PDF Page A

ladder and a platform in the yard to aid the women in climbing onto a horse so that they would need no help from a man. It is against the Shaker rules for a woman or a man to touch one another. Is that not a strange rule? I asked Mother where Shaker babies would come from. She said the Shakers took in orphans.
    Mother gave her shoes to the Shaker cobbler to have a new sole put on. It is to be a secret, for the sole must be leather. Mother dreads having to do her work in canvas shoes. For myself I keep my shoes from wearing out by going barefoot,but my feet won’t stop growing, and now I have trouble squeezing into my shoes.
    After the cleaning was done, I made up a game about the Shakers. William and I wore beards made from yarn and played the part of the men. Lizzie and Anna were the women and wore sunbonnets. We danced and whirled about and shook to get rid of our sins. It must not have worked, for I was soon in trouble. Father said he was much displeased at my game, for it was sinful to make fun of the beliefs of others.
    I meant it in good fun, for I was truly impressed with the little community and thought their home very pleasant. It is a great weakness in me that I am not serious enough and make fun of everything. Yet I never mind when others make sport of me, and I like to join in the fun.
    Â 
    J ULY 12, 1843
    This morning Father repaired the house and the barn. He is as fine a carpenter as anyone. In the afternoon he left off his repairs and built a little hut in the woods of twisted branches and gnarled wood. It looks like elveslive there. Father is so clever with his hands, he has often bartered his skills for food and shelter.
    Mr. Hecker arrived today. We are pleased to have a new member of our family.
    Â 
    J ULY 12, 1843
    Of all the men who are a part of our family I like Abraham best. He helps Mother with the laundry and in kneading the bread dough. I believe Mr. Lane looks down upon him for doing women’s work, but Mother is grateful.
    Abraham’s is a sad story. He was once confined to an asylum by his greedy relatives who wanted to get at his property. It seems odd to me that after such an experience, he would believe that men could be made perfect. At least with his helping ways he is more perfect than many I could name.
    Bugs have appeared on the potato plants. Mr. Hecker and Mr. Palmer would have us pick them off of the plants and drop them into a can of kerosene. Father and Mr. Lane say that is cruel. They say we must collect them and take them across the river. It takes twice as long to capture them and place them into a box so they can’t escape. Mr. Hecker says it isfoolishness. Father says Mr. Hecker does not understand our purpose at Fruitlands.
    I doubt Mr. Hecker will remain. He doesn’t get along with Father. The suggestions he made were turned aside. I heard him say Father thought too well of himself. Father, he said, could never pray, for he believed no one superior to himself. However, Mr. Hecker immediately went to work in the field. He left the bugs to us, but I am sure I saw him squish one between his thumb and finger.
    Â 
    J ULY 14, 1843
    Though it is summer we still have lessons. We meet each morning in the small dining room, where a bust of the Greek teacher Socrates looks down upon us with a cross expression on his face. There is also a globe of the world. William joins us, and Mr. Lane and Father are the teachers. Father says that children are born with a great deal of knowledge. The job of the teacher is not to impart knowledge but to arouse the conscience. This comes about by the questions which are put to us. “What is our idea of goodness?” “Howdo we know when we have done a bad thing?” “What is our task here on Earth?”
    Sometimes Mr. Bower, Mr. Palmer, Mr. Wood, and Abraham join in our discussions, which become very lively. I am aware of how little I have to contribute to such talks. I am sure Father is right. Somewhere inside