I knew that all the necessaries of life were dealt out to the members of the Community according to their need, and, as they never went outside of their valley, they could scarcely have spent money even if they had possessed it. But, nevertheless, it was startling in this nineteenth century to come upon a sincere belief in the worthlessness of the green-tinted paper we cherish so fondly. 'Gustav will have learned its value,' I thought, as Mina, having finished the strawberry-bed, started away towards the dairy to assist in the butter-making.
I strolled on up the little hill, past the picturesque bakery, where through the open window I caught a glimpse of the 'old, very old Jacob,' a serious young man of thirty, drawing out his large loaves of bread from the brick oven with a long-handled rake. It was gingerbread-day also, and a spicy odor met me at the window; so I put in my head and asked for a piece, receiving a card about a foot square, laid on fresh grape-leaves.
'But I cannot eat all this,' I said, breaking off a corner.
'O, dat's noding!' answered Jacob, beginning to knead fresh dough in a long white trough, the village supply for the next day.
'I have been sitting with Wilhelmina,' I remarked, as I leaned on the casement, impelled by a desire to see the effect of the name.
'So?' said Jacob, interrogatively.
'Yes; she is a sweet girl.'
'So?' (doubtfully.)
'Ye-es. So-so. A leetle black,' answered this impassive lover.