“Do any of your young men learn trades?” I asked.
“Yes; some are carpenters or cabinet-makers.”
“But you would rather have them farmers; why do you like that best?”
“I think if a man’s a Gristian, that’s the best thing he can undertake.”
I have been told of an Amish farmer who was sitting at table with several young men who had lately joined the meeting, having been baptized. One of these was his hired man called Yoney (a nickname for Jonathan). The Amish here do not in general wear suspenders, and the old man, addressing Yoney, said, “Was hasht du verschproke in der Gemeh?” (What did you promise in meeting?) The young man looked at his clothes, and the elder pointed out the suspenders.
Yoney answered that he was allowed to wear the clothes that he already had until they were worn out.
“These look like new ones.”
“They were my best ones,” he answered, “and I have just begun to wear them every day.”
A girl who has lived among the Amish has told me that they are obliged to give to beggars or “stragglers,” or they would be turned out of meeting. She does not know indeed that they are obliged to give to those who are able to work; but she did not believe that she ever saw them turn any away.
The impression prevails concerning the Amish that they endeavor to fulfil the saying, “Give to him that asketh of thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.” When I turn my mind to these plain people, I sometimes recall the trailing arbutus, which is found partly buried under the leaves and clinging close to the surface of the ground, but which when drawn up displays, though sometimes disfigured with dead, brown leaves, such a delicate form and tint, and exhales so sweet a perfume.