The daily sentinel., 1907-08-09
the Spring
SEWINGLUST

every splAhB 30 Perfectly Indu
over sewing things" said The Widow.
''and every summer finds me with my
money all spent and nothing to wear"
"A la Flora McFlimsy, of Madison
square2'" queried The Girl.
NO. 1 mean it literally" The Wild
ow replied.
You see, there used to be children. -
she continued, with far away look in
her eyes, and always in the spring
made all their little dresses for the
summer. And so. even yet, the long
Ing to sew comes up in my soul every
spring like a perennial in the garden.
Just as soon as the shop people be-
gin to fill their windows with pretty
lawns and dimities, the madness be-
gins. OF course. there aren't any
babies any more for me to make things
for, but just the same l can picture
dainty gowns and can fancy myself ar
rayed in frocks so simple that know
perfectly well l can make them myself
for half what they would cost to have
made.
so. the first bright day that comes
1 go shopping; and pretend to delib-
crate wisely over everything, while all
the time l am intoxicated with the
prospective Joy of making clothes, and
am merely trying to prolong my ec-
stasy.
After a time select a delicate pink
lawn and a dress length of white
dimity with blue corn flowers on it,
and another with green leaves and
stripes, and l get linen and pique and
crash to make half a dozen dresses all
white; and 1 buy yards and yards of
lace and spools and spools of thread
and lots of braid and many paper pat
terms, and a pair of new scissors; and
I'm in such frantic haste to begin to
sew that 1 carry half my bundles with
me; and on my way home l rent a
machine with all the attachments
and tell the sewing machine people
that 1t positively must be delivered i'm
mediately.
For weeks / sew madly, with occa-
sionally sprints over to Sixth avenue
for more lace for this or more inser-
tion for that; and every time some
other piece of goods lures me, and l
buy enough for another frock or a
waist or something; and always the
next day the balance of the same goods
is advertised at a bargain sale and
sold for third less than paid
After the machine is taken away,
and all the scraps are thrown out and
everything is once more in calm re-
pose and the furniture is no longer dis
guised by frills and Innings and paper
patterns and things, there1l be a waist
discovered with sleeves only lightly
basted in: there'll be a skirt minus Il
waistband or with hem or facing un-
stitched; and something will be too
short and something else will be too
long: and the things made from pat
terms that did not allow for seams
will be big enough ror the fat lady at
Coney. and those that did allow for
seams will be too small for any nor
NAL woman that weighs a hundred and
forty pounds-meaning yourself.
well, every year it ends the same
way-by the time the fever to sew has
left my money is all spent, and there
isn't a single thing that I can wear
and maintain my self-respect. The
maid gets some, the laundress gets the
rest, and | get through the summer
somehow. with one or two cheap ready
made gowns, bought as makeshift.
and not a single pretty. dainty frock
to my name.
Every summer l declare I'll never
do it again, but every spring that same
madness for sewing grips my vitals,
and it's the same ridiculous spree all
over again.
I've conceived a plan though for
this year-I'm going to make dear,
cute little baby things-they won't be
nearly so expensive, and l can send
them to the children's home OF hospi,
tai or something"
The next time The Girl found The
Widow she was sitting amid heaps of
snowy lawn and reels of lace edginE.
and the pattern" was a tiny little
frock, all yellow from age, and torn
as by n child at play.
But The Widow did not sew-she
buried her face in the wee garment
and sobbed.
And the spell of the sewinglust was
broken.