Anna, like her sister Madge, was a daring rider and they often went together on long trips through the forest. At one time each was mounted on a lively Indian pony, both of which doubtless had seen strange things and enjoyed many exciting experiences, but were supposed to be quite lamblike and docile. Some reminiscence must have crossed their equine minds, and they apparently challenged each other to a race, so race they must and race they did at a lightning speed on the home run.
They came flying up the lane to the house (the homestead on Lake Union) in a succession of leaps that would have made Pegasus envious had he been “thar or tharabouts.” Their riders stuck on like cockleburrs until they reached the gate, when a sudden stop threw Anna to the ground, but she escaped injury, the only damage being a wrecked riding habit.
Anna made no pretension to great learning, yet possessed a well-balanced and cultivated mind. With no ado of great effort she stood first in her class.
At a notable celebration of Decoration Day in Seattle, she was chosen to walk beside the teacher at the head of the school procession; both were tall, handsome young women, carrying the school banner bearing the motto, “Right, then Onward.”
It was to this school, which bore his own name, that her father presented a beautiful piano as a memorial of her; it bears the words, from her own lips, “I believe in Jesus,” in gold letters across the front.
In 1888 she accompanied her family across the continent to the eastern coast, where she expected to be reunited with a friend, a young girl to whom she was much attached, but it was otherwise ordered; after a brief illness in New York City, she passed away and was brought back to her own loved native land, by the sun-down-seas. Afar in a forest nook she rests, where wildwood creatures pass by, the pine trees wave and the stars sweep over, waiting, watching for the Day toward which the whole creation moves.
They wandered through the wonderful forest, by lake, fern-embroidered stream and pebble seashore, gazed on the glistening mountains, the sparkling waves, the burning sunsets, shining with such jewel colors as to make them think of the land of hope, the New Jerusalem. And the majestic snow-dome of Mountain Rainier which at the first sight thereof caused a noted man to leap up and shout aloud the joy that filled his soul; they lived in sight of it for years.
It might be asked, “Does the environment affect the character and mental development, even the physical configuration?” We answer, “Yes, we believe it does.” The fine physique, the bright intellectuality, the lovely character of these daughters of the West were certainly in part produced and developed by the wonderful world about them. Simple, pure, exalted natures ought to be, and we believe are, the rule among the children of the pioneers of Puget Sound and many of their successors.