Polly Robinson, eldest surviving child of Capt. Ephraim Robinson and Mary Upham, b. June 15, 1793 at Pawlet, VT. She d. Nov. 6, 1873 at Alma, NY.

On Sept. 8, 1811 at Pawlet, VT, Polly m. Prosper Adams, s. of Jesse Adams and Zerviah Cady, b. of record Nov. 27, 1785 at Canterbury, Conn. (g.s. says Nov. 27, 1786). He d. Apr. 4, 1839 at Alma, NY.

The following obituary, with less genealogical material than desired, is at the USGENNET site for Allegany County, NY, with due credit to the researcher and transcriber:

From: Andover News
Researched by Jane Pinney; Transcribed by Mary Rhodes
Publication Date - Nov 27, 1873

POLLY ROBINSON ADAMS-MIX

• Died on the 5th inst., in the town of Alma, Allegany County, NY, Polly, relict of the late Capt Elisha Mix of that town, in the 81st year of her age.
• The "object" of this sketch whose maiden name was Robinson, daughter of Captain Ephraim Robinson of Pawlet, Rutland County Vermont, was born June 15th, 1793 and was married to Prosper Adams in 1811, at the age of eighteen years. In 1816, they, together with all their effects, which consisted of a team and wagon, household goods and three small children that had been born unto them, moved from Pawlet to what was then deemed the Great Far West – the far famed Genesee country of Western New York – and pitched their tent on the Oakland Hills of Nunda, Livingston county then a part of Allegany county among the wolves and Indians that passed the forest at will, and were as plenty at that time as snow birds in winter. - Among the latter, as neighbors could be counted the notable George Shongo and his three brothers, who managed, with plenty of whiskey and scalping knives to butcher each other in their family quarrels. They were comparatively Giants, towering a full head above the common red man of their day. Five miles northwest lived the Shongos with the Old White Woman, Mother Jimmison, on the Gaurdow flats, who was kidnapped when a small girl, and carried by the red skins into exile, and who reportedly refused in after years to leave those dusky savages for the refinements of a civilized life.
• Rochester lay in the pathway of our settlers journeyings, which was sparsely populated and considered to be by men of judgment a "God forsaken ague stricken hole, and of no account." No one dreamed it would ever be the beautiful city it now is. Thence south to the State Line. The white inhabitants were like "Angel's visits few and far between." But the noble forests were destined soon to give way to the axe of the hardy pioneer and where once stood "The Native American, bedecked with paint and feathers, with arms of iron and cords of steel, as he twanged the bow that sent the arrow with lightning light speed quivering straight to the heart of the deer, the bear or elk, sprang up the rose of summer in all its pristine beauty and fragrance.
• Midway between Nunda and Portage village, Mr. Adams erected a double log house, which served as kitchen, dining room, parlor and bar-room and known far and near as Adams Tavern. There six other children were born unto them, making nine in all, seven or whom survive the mother and mourn deeply her loss.
• In 1839 Mr. Adams died, leaving a number of children dependent on his widow for shelter, protection and support. The mother's faith, being centered in the Living God, faltered not, nor yet feared that He who fed with manna the children of Israel in the wilderness and who listens to the raven's cry, would dessert her and her little ones in the hour of need. Believing that "Faith without works is dead" she exerted every nerve for many years on their behalf, and after the great number had grown to be able to look out for No. 1, she married in 1845 Captain Elisha Mix, of Friendship, and immediately moved with him to the southern line of Allegany county, entering upon the duties of a lumberman's wife in the town of Alma as earnestly as a woman of 30 years only.
• In 1858 she was again widowed by the death of Mr. Mix, and since that time has lived with her youngest son, George E. Adams in the valley of the Honeoye. Her funeral was on the 9th, sermon by Rev. Mr. Coit of Wellsville, after which her remains were taken to a gravelly mound, used as a burial lot for the neighborhood, followed by children and grandchildren, kind friends and neighbors, near the base of one of those everlasting hills that skirt the creek, whose summits pierce the clouds, pointing heavenward and whose sides are clothed in living green, which became from its close proximity a silent witness of the burial of one of the best and noblest mothers that ever lived. JCA Cuba Herald.

At the current writing, the memorialist has yet to determine who were all of the children. Hopefully, descendants will offer some assistance to that end.