In the intervening years, Whipple, a spinster, had supported herself and her nieces, not by sewing, teaching, or the other occupations thought fit for a woman, but by her talents as a cabinet-maker, which she had learned from her father. When Whipple and the young women tracked Henry Corry to the settlement of Fort Bragg, they were too late. He had perished in a logging accident the year before. Lacking the funds and the will for passage back east, Whipple unpacked her tools and set about doing what she did best--woodworking.

Through the years, she trained each of the girls in the fine arts of mortise and tenon, precisely fitted dovetails and book-matched veneers. As the railroads expanded and fortunes were made on timber and gold, Whipple and the Corry girls developed a specialty. They gained fame throughout the west, and even in parts of the east, for the fitting out of private railway cars. Employing the finest Cuban mahagony, ebony and satinwood, the women turned an ordinary car into an elaborate wonderworld of carved and silken wooden surfaces.

When their Aunt Dixie died, Faith, Hope, Charity and Prudence carried on her tradition in a shop near the Fort Bragg railroad station, renamed by them, The Four Sisters. In 1919, in recognition of their unique contribution, the railway company treated the venerable ladies to a trip to San Francisco, pampered guests in one of their own cars. They drank champagne, ate raw oysters and accepted a key to the city.

None of the girls ever married. Meaner spirits said it was for lack of opportunity, and others said it was a shame to let such talent die for want of an heir. But the Corry sisters never bothered with opinions. They lived to ripe old ages following the adage of their redoubtable aunt, Dixie Whipple: "The best work is yet to be done."