Mary at the Farm and Book of Recipes Compiled During Her Visit Among the "Pennsylvania Germans"

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 embarrassed manner, most bewitchingly, "Oh!"

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

"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."

"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-fashioned 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 fashion.

"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 space of muslin the same width as the hem around each quarter circle; briarstitch 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.

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

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

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."

"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 godsend 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."

"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:"

"This is a favorite little poem of mine, Aunt Sarah. I'll just write it on this blank page in your book."

"Aunt Sarah, I see there is still space on this page to write another poem, a favorite of mine. It is called, 'Be Strong,' by Maltbie Davenport."

LIFE'S COMMON THINGS.

ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL.

SIBYLLA LINSABIGLER.

A very original character was Sibylla Linsabigler, who had been a member of the Landis household several years. She was Aunt Sarah's only maid servant, but she disliked being referred to as a servant, and when she overheard "Fritz" Schmidt, as he passed the Landis farm on his way to the creek for a days fishing, call to Mary: "Miss Midleton, will you please send the butter over with the servant today, as I shall not return home in time for dinner" Sibylla said, "I ain't no servant. I'm hired girl What does that make out if I do work here? Pop got mad with me 'cause I wouldn't work at home no more for him and Mom without they paid me. They got three more girls to home yet that can do the work. My Pop owns a big farm and sent our 'Chon' to the college, and it's mean 'fer' him not to give us girls money for dress, so I work out, 'Taint right the way us people what has to work are treated these days," said Sibylla to herself, as she applied the broom vigorously to the gay-flowered carpet in the Landis parlor. "Because us folks got to work ain't no reason why them tony people over to the Perfessor's should call me a 'servant.' I guess I know I milk the cows, wash dishes, scrub floors, and do the washin' and ir'nin' every week, but I'm no 'servant,' I'm just as good any day as that good-fer-nothin' Perfesser's son," continued Sibylla, growing red in the face with indignation. "Didn't I hear that worthless scamp, Fritz Schmidt, a-referrin' to me and a-sayin' to Miss Midleton fer the 'servant' to bring over the butter? Betch yer life this here 'servant' ain't a-goin' to allow eddicated people to make a fool of her. First chance I get I'll give that Perfesser a piece of my mind."

Sibylla's opportunity came rather unexpectedly. The gentle, mild-mannered Professor was on good terms with his sturdy, energetic neighbor, John Landis, and frequently visited him for a neighborly chat. On this particular day he called as usual and found Sibvlla in the mood described.

"I'd be a whole lot better if some people weren't so smart," replied Sibylla, venting her feelings on the broom. "Should think a Perfesser would feel himself too big to talk to a 'servant'."

"On the contrary, my dear girl, I feel honored. I presume you are not feeling as well as usual. What makes you think it is condescension for me to address you?" asked the genial old man, kindly.

"Well, since you ask me, I don't mind a-tellin' you. Yesterday your son insulted me, I won't take no insult from nobody, I am just as good as what you are, even if I hain't got much book larnin'."

With this deliverance, Sibylla felt she had done full justice to the occasion and would have closed the interview abruptly had not the Professor, with a restraining hand, detained her.

"We must get to the bottom of this grievance, Sibylla. I am sure there is some mistake somewhere. What did my son say?"

"Well, if you want to know," replied the irate domestic, 'I'll tell you. He called me a 'servant.' I know I'm only a working girl, but your son nor nobody else ain't got no right to abuse me by callin' me a 'servant'."

At the conclusion of the Professor's little talk on the dignity of labor, a new light shone in Sibylla's eyes and a new thought gripped her soul. The spirit of "doulos" had displaced her antipathy toward the word servant.

"I'll take that butter over to the Professer's home right away," she said, to herself.

Before leaving Sibylla, the Professor quoted from the "Toiling of Felix," by Henry Vandyke:

Sibylla Linsabigler was a healthy, large-boned, solidly-built, typical "Pennsylvania German" girl. Her clear, pinkish complexion looked as if freshly scrubbed with soap and water. A few large, brown freckles adorned the bridge of her rather broad, flat nose. She possessed red hair and laughing, red-brown eyes, a large mouth, which disclosed beautiful even, white teeth when she smiled, extraordinary large feet and hands, strong, willing and usually good-natured, although possessed of a quick temper, as her red hair indicated. Kind-hearted to a fault, she was of great assistance to Aunt Sarah, although she preferred any other work to that of cooking or baking. She kept the kitchen as well as other parts of the house, to quote Aunt Sarah, "neat as a pin," and did not object to any work, however hard or laborious, as long as she was not expected to do the thinking and planning. She was greatly attached to both Aunt Sarah and Mary, but stood rather in awe of John Landis, who had never spoken a cross word to her in the three years she had lived at the farm.

Sarah Landis, knowing Sibylla to be an honest, industrious girl, appreciated her good qualities, thought almost as much of Sibylla as if she had been her daughter, and treated her in like manner, and for this reason, if for no other, she received willing service from the girl.

Sibylla, a swift worker at all times, never finished work so quickly as on Wednesday and Saturday evenings, when she "kept company" with Jake Crouthamel. "Chake," as Sibylla called him, was a sturdy, red-faced young farmer, all legs and arms. He appeared to be put together loosely at the joints, like a jumping-jack, and never appeared at ease in his ill-fitting "store clothes." He usually wore gray corduroy trousers and big cowhide boots, a pink and white striped shirt and red necktie.

Sibylla did not notice his imperfections, and thought him handsome as a Greek god.

Jake Crouthamel was usually called "Boller-Yockel," this name having been accorded him on account of his having delivered to a purchaser a load of hay largely composed of rag-weed. The man called him an old "Boller-Yockel," and the name had clung to Jake for years.

"NEW COLONIAL" RAG RUGS.

Several days had elapsed since that on which Mary's Aunt had planned to use the contents of her trunk to such good advantage, when Mary, coming into the room where her Aunt was busily engaged sewing, exclaimed: "Don't forget, Auntie, you promised to teach me to crochet rag rugs!"

"I'd like one made in that manner from different shades that harmonize, browns and tans, for instance," said Mary.

"You may easily have a rug of that description," continued her Aunt. "With a package of brown dye, we can quickly transform some light, woolen carpet rags I possess into pretty shades of browns and tans."

MARY IMITATES NAVAJO BLANKETS.

On her return from an afternoon spent at Professor Schmidt's, Mary remarked to Aunt Sarah, "For the first time in my life I have an original idea!"

"Do tell me child, what it is!"

"The 'New Colonial' rag rugs we have lately finished are fine, but I'd just love to have a Navajo blanket like those owned by Professor Schmidt; and I intend to make a rag rug in imitation of his Navajo blanket."

"Yes," answered her Aunt, "I have always greatly admired them myself, especially the large gray one which covers the Professor's own chair in the library. The Professor brought them with him when he returned from 'Cutler's Ranch' at Rociada, near Las Vegas, New Mexico, where he visited his nephew, poor Raymond, or rather, I should say, fortunate Raymond, an only child of the Professor's sister. A quiet, studious boy, he graduated at the head of his class at an early age, but he inherited the weak lungs of his father, who died of consumption. Raymond was a lovable boy, with a fund of dry humor and wit—the idol of his mother, who, taking the advice of a specialist, accompanied her boy, as a last resort, to New Mexico, where, partly owing to his determination to get well, proper food and daily rides on the mesa, on the back of his little pinto pony, he regained perfect health, and today is well, happily married and living in Pasadena, California, so I have been told by Frau Schmidt, who dearly loves the boy."

The rug, when finished, was truly a work of art, and represented many hours of labor and thought. But Mary considered it very fascinating work, and was delighted with the result of her labor—a rug the exact imitation of one of the Professor's genuine Indian Navajo blankets, the work of her own hands, and without the expenditure of a penny.

Mary remarked: "I do not think all the triangles in my rug are the exact size of the paper pattern you made me, Aunt Sarah. The two in the centre appear larger than the others."

'Tis said Navajo blankets and Serapes will become scarce and higher in price in the future, on account of the numerous young Indians who have been educated and who prefer other occupations to that of weaving blankets, as did their forefathers; and the present disturbance in Mexico will certainly interfere with the continuance of this industry for a time.

"And you might crochet a rug, plain 'Hit or Miss,' of rather bright-colored rags."

"Yes," said Mary, "I think I will crochet a swastika in the centre of a rug, as you suggest, of bright orange, outlined with black, and a stripe of orange edged with black at each end of the rug to match the centre. Don't you think that would be pretty, Aunt Sarah?"

"Yes indeed, but Mary, don't you think the swastika would show more distinctly on a rug with a plain background?"

"Perhaps it would," replied Mary, "but I think I'll crochet one of very gayly-colored rags, with a swastika in the centre."

"Aunt Sarah," said Mary, "do tell me how that pretty little rug composed of silk scraps is made."

"Thank you, Aunt Sarah, for your explicit directions. I cannot fail to know just how to knit a silk rug, should I ever care to do so. I think the work would be simply fascinating."

THE GIRLS' CAMPFIRE, ORGANIZED BY MARY.

One day in early June, when all nature seemed aglow with happiness, we find Mary earnestly discussing with Elizabeth Schmidt the prosaic, humdrum life of many of the country girls, daughters of well-to-do farmers in the vicinity.

"I wish," said Mary, wrinkling her forehead thoughtfully, "I could think of some new interest to introduce into their lives; some way of broadening their outlook; anything to bring more happiness into their commonplace daily toil; something good and helpful for them to think about."

All at once Mary, who was not usually demonstrative, clapped her hands, laughed gleefully and said: "I have it, Elizabeth. The very thing! Suppose we start a 'girls' campfire,' right here in the country? I don't think we shall have any trouble to organize."

"And you, because you understand all about it, will be the Guardian," said Elizabeth.

At first Mary demurred, but, overcome by Elizabeth's pleading, finally gave a reluctant consent. They then made out a list of the girls they thought might be willing to join, Mary promising to write at once for a handbook. They separated, Elizabeth to call to see the girls, and Mary to interview their parents. Their efforts were rewarded with surprisingly gratifying results, for many of the girls had read about the "Campfire Girls" and were anxious to become members.

One afternoon, several weeks later, had you gone into the old apple orchard, at the farm, you would have seen thirteen eager young girls, ranging in age from fourteen to sixteen, listening intently to Mary, who was telling them about the "Campfire Girls." What she told them was something like this:

The girls appeared to be greatly interested, and Mary felt very much encouraged. Some of the girls left to talk it over with the homefolks, while others, wishing to learn more of the organisation, plied Mary with numerous questions. Finally, in desperation, she said: "Girls, I will read you the following from the 'Camp Fire Girls' Handbook, which I received this morning:"

'The purpose of this organization is to show that the common things of daily life are the chief means of beauty, romance and adventure; to aid in the forming of habits making for health and vigor, the out-of-door habit and the out-of-door spirit; to devise ways of measuring and creating standards to woman's work, and to give girls the opportunity to learn how to "keep step," to learn team work, through doing it; to help girls and women serve the community, the larger home, in the same way they have always served the individual home; to give status and social recognition to the knowledge of the mother, and thus restore the intimate relationship of mothers and daughters to each other.'

The members of "Shawnee" Camp Fire held their first Council Fire, or Ceremonial Meeting, the second week in July. The girls, all deeply interested, worked hard to secure honors which were awarded for engaging in domestic duties well known to the home, for studying and observing the rules of hygiene and sanitation, and for learning and achievements in various ways. They held weekly meetings and studied diligently to win the rank of Fire Maker.

A girl, when she joins, becomes a Wood Gatherer; she then receives a silver ring.

The weeks pass swiftly by, and it is time for another Camp Fire. The girls selected as their meeting place for this occasion farmer Druckenmuller's peach orchard, to which they walked, a distance of about three miles from the home of Elizabeth Schmidt. They left about two o'clock in the afternoon, intending to return home before nightfall, a good time being anticipated, as they took with them lunch and materials for a corn-roast.

The peach orchard in question, covering many acres, was situated at the foot of a low hill. Between the two flowed an enchanting, fairy-like stream, the cultivated peach orchard on one side, and on the opposite side the forest-like hill, covered with an abundance of wild flowers.