Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1879-08-29
A Shaker Village.

o"HNOA 'AAA~oNs
The grassy street we entered was ST.
lent. No person was visible there was
no sign of life in the plain gaunt build
ings ON either side. These buildings,
of the architecture of New England
barns, but painted white and pierced
with windows, made no offer of hospi-
tality. One on the right appeared to be
a salesroom and storehouse. Next
was the great Westinghouse taber.
nacle Of simplicity, with hooded door
way. Opposite were workshops, and
there were other buildings of which we
could not divine the use but at the
end Of the campus rose the high.roofed
dwelling-house, called "The Home"
ornamented with the only vanity of the
premises-a low steeple containing q
bell. Why was the bell on the dwell.
ing-house instead of on the meeting
house? If we could ring it, would any
life be evoked?
The great buildings stared at us with
closed doors and windows. For any
evidence of humanity, we might as we'll
have been in Pompeii. Had some sud-
den calamity swept away the commu-
nifty, or was it perhaps the hour of med
itation? We waited, we watched, we
listened. The silence was profound.
1t was afternoon. and all the place was
flooded with sunlight. Summer had
not yet come, but there was Fremont
ton of it in the soft, gray sky fecked
with blue-the veritable color of C9
sar's eyes and in the wandering wind
that moved the low grass gently and
had in it yet little SILVER of spring.
1t was day when the south side of a
friendly barn. where the hens are bur-
rowing in the warm soil, is the most
comfortable place in the world.
Had We come this long way merely to
see reed shaken in the wind? Nay,
we had come to see Shaker, not even
the least that is, was visible. It &C.
Cured to us to return to what appeared
to be the store" and seek information.
1t was closed fast like the other houses,
as if no customers were desired, and it
was only after persistent knocking that
the door opened part way and gave to
our view the vision of thin, tall, angu-
lar female in scant, plain skirts, whose
severe face was neither an invitation to
the monastic life nor promise of in.
formation. We were put in the position
of intruders upon something holy and
unattractive. But what right had we
children stained with the worldly to ex-
pect civility and an angelic face in per-
son set to guard the portals of celibacy
and INCONSISTENCIES woman who for
fifty years had been hardening into the
attitude of setting her face against the
world? Words were not wasted on us.
Could we enter the house?
"Nay."
And we felt that we were not worthy
to do so. Gould we have the key to the
meeting house?
Nay"
And the refusal seemed Just. Could
we go into any of the houses?
"Nay."
The door was now only crack open.
Could we see apybody?
" Find the Elder 7"
And the door shut, decidedly. Even
a sweet virgin may get sour by standing
too long.
The advice to find the Elder was good
but elders were as scarce as youngsters.
No person was in sight. We lounged
down by the ash.house, alongside of
which ran sparkling brook, noiseless
between its grassy banks. In the next
building we heard q hammering. Here,
then, was life. It seemed to be some
sort of a workshop. We entered.
Nothing on the first floor. Above, we
at last found door that would open.
1t opened into shoemaker's shop, oc.
cupied by q single man.
3D." Brother" we said, can you--?"
amt no brother"
You are not q Shaker?"
mot much. I'm a shoemaker.
Hired"
"Where, then, are the Shakers?"
~ dunno in the fields, may be"
and the goddess man slammed away on
his lapstone to the utter destruction of
further conversation.
We went down discounted. This,
we thought, is strange community,
where nobody will commune. Suppose
we wanted to join, how could we do it :?
Since one cannot be born into it, how
does he get in? The great barns be-
hind the houses were invitingly open,
but they were as empty as the houses
appeared to be. Not "moo," nor a
" baa," nor q bleat" to be heard. 1
think we should have given up the
quest of truth, and gone away con.
WINGED that the Shakers had all been
absorbed into the ground, down
and not left even broad brim above the
place of their disappearance as mon.
ument,-if we had not at the moment
espied little school-house hidden In
the trees, and two pretty little girls in
the yard in front Of it, studying their
lessons under the shade of soft maple
"a pretty picture of education in its
sweetest form. Heaven be praised, here
is life at last and the very beginning
of it! We sauntered down toward this
spring of knowledge and began con-
versation with the little maids, who re-
piled without fear or futter to our ques-
tons in the simple "yea" and "nay +"
of their order-as modest in demeanor
as they were quaint in speech. But the
interview had not gone far when it was
interrupted by an appearance that made
shakers of us all.
The school. marin stood in the door.
way. Mother Ann looked you so in
the sweetness OF your springtime. when.