to distinguish them, this was not a very interesting pastime and the
wait was long and tedious. When the little girls went with the father
they also were shut out of the executive session where such momentous
questions were discussed as, "Are Friends careful to keep themselves
and their children from attending places of diversion?" "Are Friends
careful to refrain from tale-bearing and detraction?" "Are Friends
careful to send their children to school, and all children in their
employ?"
One cold day, the mother being detained at home, ten-year-old Susan
received permission to go with her father. When the business meeting
began, she curled up quietly in a corner by the stove, thinking to
escape detection, but was spied out by one of the elders, a woman with
green spectacles, who tip-toed down from the "high seat" and said, "Is
thee a member?" "No, but my father is," replied Susan. "That will not
do, thee will have to go out." "My mother told me to stay in." "Thy
mother doesn't manage things here." "But my father told me to stay in."
"Neither thy father nor thy mother can say what thee shall do here;
thee will have to go out;" and taking the child by the arm she led her
into the cold vestibule. After remaining there until almost frozen,
Susan decided to go to the nearest neighbor's. When she opened the gate
a big dog sprung fiercely upon her. Her screams brought out the family
and she was taken into the house, where it was found the only injury
was a large piece bitten out of the new Scotch plaid cloak which she
had gone to meeting on purpose to exhibit. The affair created
considerable excitement, Mr. and Mrs. Anthony were very indignant, and
it ended in the father's making a "request" that his children be made
members of the Society, which was done.
Daniel Anthony was by nature a broad, progressive man, and his family
were not brought up according to the strictest and narrowest
requirements of Quaker doctrine; while his wife, remembering the
liberal teachings of her Universalist father and her own girlish love
|