went into his mills and performed the manual labor. In
partnership with Dr. Hiram Corliss he employed a number of men to cut
timber, going into the woods in the depths of winter personally to
superintend them. His wife would cook great quantities of provisions,
bake bread and cake, pork and beans, boil hams and roast chickens, and
go to the logging camp with him for a week at a time, and she used to
say that notwithstanding all the labor and anxiety of those days they
were among the happiest recollections of her life.

At home the loom and spinning-wheel were never idle. The mill-hands
were boarded, transient travelers cared for, and every possible effort
made to enable the father to secure another foothold, but all in vain.
The manufacturing business was dead, there was no building to call for
lumber, people had no money, and, after a desperate struggle of five
years, the end came and all was lost. Mr. Anthony then spent months in
looking for a suitable location to begin life anew. He went to Virginia
and to Michigan, but found nothing that suited him. He and his wife
made a trip through New York, visiting a number of relatives on the
way, and were persuaded to examine a farm for sale near Rochester. It
proved to be more satisfactory than anything they had seen, and they
decided to take it. Joshua Read who, during all these years, had
carefully protected the portion which his sister, Mrs. Anthony, had
inherited from their father, took this to make the first payment on the
farm.[8] They then returned to Center Falls and began preparations for
what in those times was a long journey.

One warm day in the summer of 1845, several Quaker elders had stopped
to dine at the Anthony home on their way to Quarterly Meeting. Hannah
and Susan were in the large, cool parlor working on the wonderful quilt
which was to be a part of Hannah's wedding outfit, when one of the
elders, a wealthy widower from Vermont, asked Susan to get him a drink.
He followed her out to the well and there made her an offer of
marriage, which she promptly refused. He pictured his many acres, his
fine home, his sixty cows, told her how much she looked like his first
wife, begged her to take time to consider and he would stop on his way
back to get her answer. She assured him that it would be entirely
unnecessary, as she was going with her father and mother to their new
home and did not want to marry. He could scarcely understand a woman
who did not desire ma