The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1907-04-28

some folks can build churches and schools
and hospitals to keep folks in mind OF
EN-. bat all the work I've got 20 leave
behind me is jest these quilts. and some
times. when I'm settin' here. workin
with my caliker and ginghm pieces, IN
finish off a block and ] laugh and say
to myself, Well, here's another stone for
the monument
Il reckon you think. child. that a cal
iker or a worsted quilt is a curious sort
OF a monument-'bout as perishable as the
sweepin and scrubbin' and mendln But
If folks values things rightly, and knows
how TO take care Of EN-. there amt many
things that'll last iongern a quilt Why
I've got a blue and white Counterpart
that my mothers mother spun ana
WGve and there amt a sign O givin' out
in il yet I'm goin' 20 viii that TO my
granddaughter that lives in DauVile,
Mary Frances oldest child. She was down
here last summer. and I was lookin' over
my things and paekin' EN- away. and
she happened to see that counterpart, and
says she, Grandma, / want you TO will
me that And says I: What do you
want with that old thing, honeyl You
know you wouldn't sleep under such a
counterpart as that. And says She No,
but I'd hang II Up over my parlor door
for a."
"Portiere?' I suggested. as Aunt Jane
hesitated for the unaccustomed word.
That's it, child. Somehow can't
ricollect these new-fangled words, any
moren ] can understand these new-fan-
gled ways Who'd ever a thought that
folksd go TO stringin' up bed-cOverin's in
their doors And says / 10 jamie. You
can hang your great-grandm0ther's cOun-
teTpane up in your DaTlOr door If you
want to, but says J. don't you ever
make doOr-curtain out o one o my
quilts But la the way things turn
around. if ! was TO come back fifty years
from now, ike as not I'd ma EN- usin'
my quilts for windOW-cuTtain or door
mats
We both laughed and there rose in my
mind a picture of q twentieth century
house decorated with Aunt James nine
patches" and rising suns. How could
the dear old woman know that the same
esthetic sense that had drawn from their
0bscurity the white and blue counter
panes of colonial days would forever pro-
tect her loved quilts from such desecra-
ton as she feared? As she lifted a pair
Of quilts from chair near by, ] caught
sight of a pure white spread in striking
contrast with the many-hued patchwork
Where did you get that Marseilles
spread, Aunt JaneT'' / asked. pointing %
it. Aunt Jane lifted it and laid it on my
lap without word Evidently she
thought that here was something that
could speak for itself II was two layers
of snowy cotton cloth thinly lined with
cotton, and deliberately quilted into per
feet imitation OF a Aiarseiiiies counter
pane. The pattern was a tracery Of roses.
BUDS. and leaves. very much convention
allied. but still recognizable for the things
they were. The stitches We're fairylike,
and altogether it might have covered the
bed Of d queen.
Il made every stitch o. that spread
the year before me and Abram was mar
ried, she said y put Il on nay bed
when We went 90 housekeepin, IL was
on the bed when Abram died, and when I
I die ] want EN- 60 cover me with it.
There WAS "a life-hist0ry IN the simple
words. I thought of Desdemona and her
bridal sheets. and I did not Of1er 10 help
Aunt Jane as she folded this quilt
u reckon you think she resumed pres
entity, that I'm a mean. stingy old cree
tur not 20 give jamie the Counterpart
now. instead o' hoardiu it up, and all
these quilts. too. and keepin folks waitin
for EN- till ] die But. honey. it aln't
an selhshuess. I'd give away my best
dress or my best bonnet OF an acre
ground to anybody that needed EN- more'n
I did. but these quilts Why, il looks
like my whole life was sewed up in EN-.
and I amt goin' to part with EN- while
life lasts"
There was a ring Of passionate eager
ness in the old voice. and she fell 10
putting away her treasures as If the sug-
geslion Of losing them had made her fear
ful OF their safety.
7 looked again az the heap of quilts. An
hour ago they had been patchwork. and
nothing more. But now. The old wo-
mans words had wrought a transforma-
ton In the bomely mass Of calico and
silk and worsted Patchwork? All, no..
II was memory. imagination. history. BIZ
/ Osrapny. joy. sorrow. philosophy, TeIi-
gi0n. romance realism, life. love- and
death. and over ALL like halo. the love
of the artist for his work and the soul
I longing for earthly Immortality
No wonder the Wrinklcd fingers smooth
I ed them as reverenJly as We handle the
garments of the dead.
ITO be continued next Sunday)