Norwich bulletin., 1909-10-08

Everybody has an art ideal OF some
sort Some may not know it--fmay
even fancy the pursuit of the beauti-
full plays no part in their lives. These
persons, however, are simply mistaken
IL 1t isn't pictures or scenery y ~
dresses or pipes or babies eyes or
something else With Sally Sprankle
it was pieced quilts.
1t was we'll that Sally had even
pieced quilts in her life, for she mad
precious little else. She had been
born on a starved little farm and had
married another just as bad Her
family thought she was in luck to get
married at all. for Sally was as thin
and starved looking as the farm and
irremediably homely. There are some
kinds of ugliness that fascfnate. but
not SaIly's kind. Hers was the pitiful
LONELINESS Of washed out colorifg,
scanty, pale hair and stopped should
ers.
Blenn Sprankle was not much of a
man, but then, as Sally's mother had
asked amazingly when Sally appeared
to hesitate about taking him, what
on earth did a girl as unattractive as
Sally expect anyhow? Sally's mother
had nine in the family and IL Sally
married that would be one less.
So Sally married Blenn, transferred
her scrubbing, baking, sweeping, milk
ing, potato pearing and all-around
drudgery from her parents, home to
Blenns. The change scarcely made a
ripple in her dun life. Her only dissi-
patton was piecing quilts, and she
guiltily felt that to indulge in it was
an awful waste of time. But the col
ored bits of calico and gingham and
their possibilities charmed her. She
rioted in new designs, was thrilled by
odd patterns. In short piecing quilt
gave Sally Sprankle as much pleasure
and mental profit as a trip to Europe
or a course of symphony concerts
might afford another woman.
Once she had timidly asked her hus-
band to admire an especially brilliant
block Of patchwork. He did not even
notice that her usually dull eyes were
alight with interest as she held up the
quilt. He had plowed a big field that
day and was dog tired.
"Huhi" Blenn had said. "S'pose it'll
keep you jest as warm as any other
kind"
The first time any one ever really
admired her work was when one Of
the summer cottagers from around
the point drove up to buy some fresh
eggs. There were quilts on the line.
Why, how perfectly lovely!" the
summer cottager had cried out Il
HCNCT saw SuCn udIllIlS bAQ-ldoiilOiIGu
quilts before! Do you want to sell
any,"
Sally was clutched with a sudden
miserliness. Those quilts meant more
than money to her and she would not
have known what to do with money
if she had it, never having been edu-
Gated in the pleasant task of buying
what she wanted. She never ad.what
she wanted.
F.No'm." Sally Rad said, slowly. Il
guess not. How many eggs did you
say?"
The next time the summer cottager
came she regarded Sally enthusiastic
cally. I've thought Of something"
she said. why don't you exhibit
some Of your quilts at the county fair
next month? They give prizes, you
know, and you might get the big one
its IS. Just show them, you know"
After that Sally Sprangle dreamed
It was not so much the SIS as the glory.
1t made her gasp to feel the thrill at
the thought of being set up above all
the other women. For down in SaIlys
soul furked an unsupported yearning
for leadership.