Marianne Hunsaker D'Arcy

“ When I awakened next morning it seemed to me they had been working all night, for there sat father at work on the shoes, while mother was preparing the breakfast; on the table were our books. Oh! such lovely books, covered with a piece of one of mother's worn-out calico dresses, her prettiest dress, I thought. No city boy or girl could be more pleased with their nice new books than we were. And the rapture of it! Such cute thumb-papers in each! What boy or girl nowadays knows what a thumb-paper is? ”

“ Horton went ahead and scraped one foot along, thus clearing the snow from a path for us small girls to walk in. I have often wondered if we cried with our cold feet. I have no recollection of doing so. Perhaps the thought of our books, thumb-papers, and school kept us from noticing our feet. Any way, before school was out that afternoon father was at the schoolhouse with our shoes slung over his shoulders, and how proudly we put them on in front of the fire, with the other children interested onlookers. ”

“ Among the garments hung out was mother's dress, the only one besides what she wore. The family cow was near, and before it was noticed she had chewed the dress beyond repair. I think it was pieces of this dress that were afterwards used as binding for the spelling books that we had in our first Oregon school.
Mother was at first in despair—no money, nothing to sell, and Oregon City sixteen miles away through an unbroken wilderness. But, oh! those pioneer women, how full of resources they were! There stood the ever-ready ash hopper, without which no family was equipped for living. ”