Then she would give her a simball, and tell her she must "be a good
girl, and not mind if she couldn't play jest like the others, for
she'd got to airn her own livin', when she grew up, and she must learn
to work."

Ann would go away comforted, but grandma would be privately indignant.
She was, as is apt to be the case, rather critical with her sons'
wives, and she thought "Sam'l's kept that poor little gal too stiddy
at work," and wished and wished she could shelter her under her own
grandmotherly wing, and feed her with simballs to her heart's content.
She was too wise to say anything to influence the child against her
mistress, however. She was always cautious about that, even while
pitying her. Once in a while she would speak her mind to her son, but
he was easy enough--Ann would not have found him a hard task-master.

Still, Ann did not have to work hard enough to hurt her. The worst
consequences were that such a rigid rein on such a frisky little colt
perhaps had more to do with her "cutting up," as her mistress phrased
it, than she dreamed of. Moreover the thought of the indentures,
securely locked up in Mr. Wales' tall wooden desk, was forever in
Ann's mind. Half by dint of questioning various people, half by her
own natural logic she had settled it within herself, that at any time
the possession of these papers would set her free, and she could
go back to her own mother, whom she dimly remembered as being
loud-voiced, but merry, and very indulgent. However, Ann never
meditated in earnest, taking the indentures; indeed, the desk was
always locked--it held other documents more valuable than hers--and
Samuel Wales carried the key in his waistcoat-pocket.