The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1889-03-30
THE QUILTING BEE.

NSNN 49,
One winter by the Merrimac some two-score
years ago,
You could not see the feneerails for the drifted
heaps OF snow;
The iocxs of chickadees would come and in the
the dOoryard stand,
Too hunger-tamed TO fear the touch OF cen a
boyish hand.
sat beside the kitchen fire; the chores at last
were done;
The farmers wife. unwilling. owned my tasks q
rest had won.
When down the road, all silver sweet, the sleigh
bells jingle came,
And through the frosty air heard, thrice called
in haste, my name;
Imperious a grlish voice: "oh John, be quick,
for see,
You're wanted over at the spragues! They've
got quiltin' bee"
a quilting bee' held my breath. And pray,
what good are youy"
Jheeded not the DANES sharp tongue, she al
ways was ashrew;
But coat and muller hurried on, sprang into
the sleigh,
And like the wind we few along behind the
squire's old bay.
A little hand stole into m,ne q low laugh rippled
feet,
And mixed its music with the chimes so rollick'
ing and sweet;
Perhaps-perhaps-I kissed her check, the
merry blue-eyed maid.
Perhaps We whispered loving words, but pace
we never staid
Till at the Spragues' our rein we drew, and
saucy Kate TO me
Said airily, I've brought you, John, 10 Sally S
quiltn'bee."
The house was gay with candelght, the lamps
were all aglow.
The rudy flame came streaming forth across
the shining snow.
The girls were sitting by the frame, their
needles out and in
Went flashing, flashing to and fro, through such
amerry din.
You could scarcely hear yourself for fun, and
when the work was OFT,
Then swift we piled away the chairs, and cleared
the kitchen floor,
And Uncle Archie drew his bow across the
fiddle strings,
And men and maids, We danced that night as II
our feet were wings.
My word the very thought OF that sets this old
heart athrill,
I'd dancy again as then / danced, and with a
right good will,
II Kate could call me once again, as sweet as
sweet could he,
"Come, John, make haste, you're wanted John,
at Sally'S quiltin'-bee.'
But Kate, my Kate, for many year, no mortal
ears have heard
The tones which rang with melody, surprising
any bird;
The angels wanted her too soon: they always
want the best;
They take the one whose absence leaves an
ache in every breast,
Her grave is in the open ground, beneath the
open sky,
Right in the fair home meadow, where her
fathers people lie;
And have been u lonely man. and numbered
oft with care,
And bowed beneath the burden that my darling
used to share.
] little thought how soon the gold TO ashen gray
would be
Turned darSly, when went with Kate to Sally's
quilting-bee.
What's that, young MANI You've come TO say
that you and daughter Sue
Would like to join your hands for life-that She
has promised you,
In case her father will consent. "IIe will, the
dear old dad"
She cries, and It's the same sweet way her dar
ling mother had.
And she, though not touch TO Kate, has dane
ing eyes OF blue.
And checks that hide the dmples, where the
blush comes peeping through.
Take her, young man, be good to her; il ] have
had my day,
I'll not begrudge the happiness that seems u
point that way
But much doubt if you will know the bliss that
fell to me.
When Kate said yes" that night we went tc
Sally quilting-bee.
Margaret f. Sangster, in Once Week.