Mary at the Farm and Book of Recipes Compiled during Her Visit Part 4

A-12 Pine Tree Quilt A-13 Tree of Life A-14 Pineapple A-15 Enlarged Block of Winding Way Quilt A-16 Lost Rose in the Wilderness A-17 Tree Quilt]

Mary blushed rosily red and exclaimed in an embarra.s.sed manner, most bewitchingly, "Oh!"

Aunt Sarah laughed. She thought to have Mary look that way 'twas worth teasing her.

"Well, Mary, we can in leisure moments, from that coa.r.s.e, white linen skirt which you have discarded, make bureau scarfs, sideboard cover, or a set of scalloped table mats to place under hot dishes on your dining-room table. I will give you pieces of asbestos to slip between the linen mats when finished. They are a great protection to the table. You could also make several small guest towels with deep, hemst.i.tched ends with your initials on. You embroider so beautifully, and the drawn work you do is done as expertly as that of the Mexican women."

"Oh, Aunt Sarah, how ingenious you are."

"And, Mary, your rag carpet shall not be lacking. We shall tear up those partly-worn muslin skirts into strips one-half inch in width, and use the dyes left over from dyeing Easter eggs. I always save the dye for this purpose, they come in such pretty, bright colors. The rags, when sewed together with some I have in the attic, we'll have woven into a useful carpet for the home you are planning.'

"Oh! Aunt Sarah," exclaimed Mary, "do you mean a carpet like the one in the spare bedroom?"

"Yes, my dear, exactly like that, if you wish."

"Indeed I do, and I think one like that quite good enough to have in a dining-room. I think it so pretty. It does not look at all like a common rag carpet."

"No, my dear, it is nothing very uncommon. It is all in the way it is woven. Instead of having two gay rainbow stripes about three inches wide running through the length of the carpet, I had it woven with the ground work white and brown chain to form checks. Then about an inch apart were placed two threads of two shades of red woolen warp, alternating with two threads of two shades of green, across the whole width, running the length of the carpet. It has been greatly admired, as it is rather different from that usually woven. All the rag carpets I found in the house when we moved here, made by John's mother, possessed very wide stripes of rainbow colors, composed of shaded reds, yellows, blues and greens. You can imagine how very gorgeous they were, and so very heavy. Many of the country weavers use linen chain or warp instead of cotton, and always use wool warp for the stripes."

"Aunt Sarah, I want something so very much for the Colonial bedroom I should like to have when I have a home of my very own."

"What is it, dear? Anything, e'en to the half of my kingdom,"

laughingly replied her Aunt.

"Why, I'd love to have several rag rugs like those in your bedroom, which you call 'New Colonial' rugs."

"Certainly, my dear. They are easily made from carpet rags. I have already planned in my mind a pretty rag rug for you, to be made from your old, garnet merino s.h.i.+rtwaist, combined with your discarded cravenette stormcoat.

"And you'll need some pretty quilts, also," said her Aunt.

"I particularly admire the tree quilts," said Mary.

"You may have any one you choose; the one called 'Tree of Paradise,'

another called 'Pineapple Design,' which was originally a border to 'Fleur de lis' quilt or 'Pine Tree,' and still another called 'Tree of Life,' and 'The Lost Rose in the Wilderness.'"

"They are all so odd," said Mary, "I scarcely know which one I think prettiest."

"All are old-fas.h.i.+oned quilts, which I prize highly," continued her Aunt. "Several I pieced together when a small girl, I think old-time patchwork too pretty and useful an accomplishment to have gone out of fas.h.i.+on.

"You shall have a small stand cover like the one you admired so greatly, given me by Aunt Cornelia. It is very simple, the materials required being a square of yard-wide unbleached muslin. In the centre of this baste a large, blue-flowered handkerchief with cream-colored ground, to match the muslin. Turn up a deep hem all around outside edge; cut out quarter circles of the handkerchief at each of four corners; baste neatly upon the muslin, leaving a s.p.a.ce of muslin the same width as the hem around each quarter circle; briarst.i.tch all turned-in edges with dark-blue embroidery silk, being washable, these do nicely as covers for small tables or stands on the veranda in Summertime."

"Aunt Sarah," ecstatically exclaimed Mary, "you are a wizard to plan so many useful things from a trunk of apparently useless rags. What a treasure Uncle has in you. I was fretting about having so little to make my home attractive, but I feel quite elated at the thought of having a carpet and rugs already planned, besides the numerous other things evolved from your fertile brain."

Aunt Sarah loved a joke. She held up an old broadcloth cape. "Here is a fine patch for Ralph Jackson's breeches, should he ever become sedentary and need one."

Mary reddened and looked almost offended and was at a loss for a reply.

[Ill.u.s.tration:

A-18 Fleur DeLys Quilt A-19 Oak Leaf Quilt A-20 One Block of Fleur DeLys Quilt A-21 Winding Way Quilt A-22 Tulip Quilt A-23 Flower Pot Quilt]

Greatly amused, Aunt Sarah quoted ex-President Roosevelt: "'Tis time for the man with the patch to come forward and the man with the dollar to step back,'" and added, "Never mind, Mary, your Ralph is such an industrious, hustling young man that he will never need a patch to step forward, I prophesy that with such a helpmeet and 'Haus Frau' as you, Mary, he'll always be most prosperous and happy. Kiss me, dear."

Mary did so, and her radiant smile at such praise from her honored relative was beautiful to behold.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OLD RAG CARPET]

CHAPTER IX.

POETRY AND PIE.

"Aunt Sarah," questioned Mary one day, "do you mind if I copy some of your recipes?"

"Certainly not, my dear," replied her Aunt.

"And I'd like to copy some of the poems, also, I never saw any one else have so much poetry in a book of cooking recipes."

"Perhaps not," replied her Aunt, "but you know, Mary, I believe in combining pleasure with my work, and our lives are made up of poetry and prose, and some lives are so very prosy. Many times when too tired to look up a favorite volume of poems, it has rested me to turn the pages of my recipe book and find some helpful thought, and a good housewife will always keep her book of recipes where it may be readily found for reference. I think, Mary, the poem 'Pennsylvania,' by Lydia M.D. O'Neil, a fine one, and I never tire of reading it over and over again. I have always felt grateful to my old schoolmaster. Professor T----, for teaching me, when a school girl, to love the writing of Longfellow, Whittier, Bryant, Tennyson and other well-known poets. I still, in memory, hear him repeat 'Thanatopsis,' by Bryant and 'The Builders,' by Longfellow. The rhymes of the 'Fireside Poet' are easily understood, and never fail to touch the heart of common folk. I know it appears odd to see so many of my favorite poems sandwiched in between old, valued cooking recipes, but, Mary, the happiness of the home life depends so largely on the food we consume. On the preparation and selection of the food we eat depends our health, and on our health is largely dependent our happiness and prosperity. Who is it has said, 'The discovery of a new dish makes more for the happiness of man than the discovery of a star'? So, dearie, you see there is not such a great difference between the one who writes a poem and the one who makes a pie. I think cooking should be considered one of the fine arts--and the woman who prepares a dainty, appetizing dish of food, which appeals to the sense of taste, should be considered as worthy of praise as the artist who paints a fine picture to gratify our sense of sight. I try to mix all the poetry possible in prosaic every-day life. We country farmers' wives, not having the opportunities of our more fortunate city sisters, such as witnessing plays from Shakespeare, listening to symphony concerts, etc., turn to 'The Friends.h.i.+p of Books,' of which Was.h.i.+ngton Irving writes: 'Cheer us with the true friends.h.i.+p, which never deceived hope nor deserted sorrow.'"

"Yes," said Mary, "but remember, Aunt Sarah, Chautauqua will be held next Summer in a near-by town, and, as Uncle John is one of the guarantors, you will wish to attend regularly and will, I know, enjoy hearing the excellent lectures, music and concerts."

"Yea," replied her Aunt, "Chautauqua meetings will commence the latter part of June, and I will expect you and Ralph to visit us then. I think Chautauqua a G.o.dsend to country women, especially farmers'

wives; it takes them away from their monotonous daily toil and gives them new thoughts and ideas."

"I can readily understand, Aunt Sarah, why the poem, 'Life's Common Things,' appeals to you; it is because you see beauty in everything.

Aunt Sarah, where did you get this very old poem, 'The Deserted City'?"

"Why, that was given me by John's Uncle, who thought the poem fine."

"Sad is the sight, the city once so fair!

An hundred palaces lie buried there; Her lofty towers are fallen, and creepers grow O'er marbled dome and shattered portico.

"Once in the gardens, lovely girls at play, Culled the bright flowers, and gently touched the spray; But now wild creatures in their savage joy Tread down the flowers and the plants destroy.

"By night no torches in the windows gleam; By day no women in their beauty beam; The smoke has ceased--the spider there has spread His snares in safety--and all else is dead."

"Indeed, it is a 'gem,'" said Mary, after slowly reading aloud parts of several stanzas.

"Yes," replied her Aunt, "Professor Schmidt tells me the poem was written by Kalidasa (the Shakespeare of Hindu literature), and was written 1800 years before Goldsmith gave us his immortal work, 'The Deserted Village.'"

"I like the poem, 'Abou Ben Adhem and the Angel,'" said Mary, "and I think this true by Henry Ward Beecher:"

"'Do not be troubled because you have not great virtues, G.o.d made a million spears of gra.s.s where He made one tree; The earth is fringed and carpeted not with forests but with gra.s.ses, Only have enough of little virtues and common fidelities, And you need not mourn because you are neither a hero nor a saint.'