 | V. Clovernook, or, Recollections of our
neighborhood in the West |  |
5. V.
That going to town by Mrs. Wetherbe, as I have intimated,
was chiefly with a view to purchases in preparation for the proposed
quilting party and wood-chopping. Not only did we select
calico for the border of the quilt, with cotton batting and spool
thread, but we also procured sundry niceties for the supper,
pound of ground ginger, five pounds of cheese, and as many
pounds of raisins. Mrs. Wetherbe had never made a “frolic”
before, she said, and now she wouldn't have the name of being
near about it, let it cost what it would. And great excitement
ran through all the neighborhood so soon as it was known what
she had been about, and rumor speedily exaggerated the gallon
of molasses into a dozen gallons, the raisins into a keg, and so
on. Many thought it was not very creditable in a “professor”
to have such carryings on; some wondered where she would find
any body in Clovernook good enough to ask; others supposed
she would have all her company from the city; and all agreed
that if she was going to have her “big-bug” relations, and do
her “great gaul,” she might, for all of them. The wonder was
that she didn't make a party of “whole cloth,” and not stick her
quilt in at all.
There was a great deal of surmising and debating likewise as
to the quilt itself; and some hoped it was a little nicer than any
patchwork they had seen of Mrs. Wetherbe's making. But this
unamiable disposition gradually gave way when it was known
that the frolic would embrace a wood-chopping as well as a quilting—“for
surely,” said they, “she don't expect chaps from
town to cut wood!”
The speculation concerning the quilt began to decline; what
matter whether it were to be composed of stars or stripes, “rising
suns,” or “crescents?” Mrs. Wetherbe knew her own business
of course, and those who had at first hoped they would not
be invited, because they were sure they would not go if they
were, wavered visibly in their stout resolves.
From one or two families in which the greatest curiosity
reigned, were sent little girls and boys, whose ostensible objects
were the borrowing of a darning-needle or a peck measure from
the harmless family who had become the centre of interest,
but their real errands were to see what they could see. So the
feeling of asperity was gradually mollified, as reports thus obtained
circulation favoring the neighborly and democratic character
hitherto borne by the Wetherbes. At one time the good
old lady was found with her sleeves rolled back, mixing bread,
spies how affairs were going forward at their homes. After
all, the neighbors began to think the quilting was not going to
be any such great things more than other quiltings. For
myself, I understood the whole subject pretty well from the
beginning.
One morning as I looked up from the window where I sat, I
saw Helphenstein Randall approaching, and at once divined his
errand. He was mounted on Mr. Wetherbe's old roan mare,
and riding a side-saddle; and he was in excellent spirits too, as
I judged from his having the ragged rim of his hat turned up
jauntily in front, and from his goading the beast with heels and
bridle-rein; but not a whit cared the ancient mare; with youth
she had lost her ambition, and now she moved in slow and graceless
way, her neck bent downward, and her nose greatly in advance
of her ears. Half an hour afterwards I was on the way to
assist in preparations for the approaching festivities. But I was
only a kind of secondary maid of honor, for foremost on all occasions
of this kind was Ellen Blake, and in this present instance
she had preceded me, and with hair in papers, and sleeves
and skirt tucked up, she came forth in an at-home-attire, mistress-of-the-house
fashion, to welcome me—a privilege she always
assumed toward every guest on such occasions.
In truth, Ellen really had a genius for managing the affairs
of other people, and for the time being she felt almost always the
same interest in whatever was being done as though it were altogether
an affair of her own. She was also thought, in her
neighborhood, which was a sort of suburb of Clovernook, a full
quarter of the way to the city, to be very good company, and
it is no wonder that her services were much in demand. Very
ambitious about her work was Ellen, and few persons could get
through with more in a day than she; in fact there are few more
faultless in nearly every respect; nevertheless, there was one objection
which some of the most old-fashioned people urged against
her—she was dressy, and it was rumored just now that she had
got a new “flat,” trimmed as full as it could stick of blue ribbons
and red artificial flowers, and also a white dress, flounced half
way up to the skirt.
Already the quilt was in the frames and laid out, as the marking
was called, the chamber was ready for the guests, and Ellen
said she thought she had been pretty smart—if she did say it
herself.
“I wanted to take the bed out of my front room and have
the quilting there,” Mrs. Wetherbe observed, “but this headstrong
piece (pointing to Ellen) wouldn't hear of it.”
“No, indeed,” replied the girl; “it would have been the
greatest piece of presumption in the world; la, me! if we young
folks cut up as we do sometimes, we'd have that nice carpet in
doll-rags, and then the work of taking down and putting up the
bedstead—all for nothing, as you may say.”
I fully agreed that Ellen had made the wisest arrangement.
The chamber was large, covering an area occupied by three rooms
on the ground floor; and being next to the roof, the quilt could
be conveniently attached to the rafters by ropes, and thus drawn
up out of the way in case it were not finished before nightfall.
The ceilings were unplastered, and on either side sloped within
a few feet of the floor, but the gable windows admitted a sufficiency
of light, and there was neither carpet nor furniture in the
way, except, indeed, the furnishing which Ellen had contrived for
the occasion, consisting chiefly of divans, formed of boards and
blocks, which were cushioned with quilts and the like. Besides
these, there were two or three barrels covered over with tablecloths
and designed to serve as hat-stands. There was no other
furniture, unless the draperies, formed of petticoats and trowsers,
here and there suspended from pegs, might be regarded as
entitled to be so distinguished.
The rafters were variously garnished, with bags of seeds,
bunches of dried herbs, and hanks of yarn, with some fine specimens
of extra large corn, having the husks turned back from
the yellow ears and twisted into braids, by which it was hung
for preservation and exhibition. One more touch our combined
ingenuity gave the place, on the morning of the day guests
were expected, and this consisted of festoons of green boughs
and of flowers.
While we were busy with preparations in the kitchen, the day
following my arrival, Mrs. Randall suddenly made her appearance,
one hand a satchel, and in the other an empty basket.
“Hi ho! what brought you, mother?” exclaimed Helph, who
was watching our progress in beating eggs, weighing sugar,
crushing spices, &c.; and this question was followed with
“Where is Jenny?” and “How did you come?”
We soon learned that she had arrived in a market wagon, for
the sake of economy; that her basket was to carry home eggs,
butter, apples, and whatever she could get; and that, though
she proposed to assist us she would in fact disconcert our arrangements,
and mar our happiness. Jenny was left at home
to attend the house, while she herself recruited and enjoyed a
little pleasuring.
No sooner had she tied on one of Mrs. Wetherbe's checked
aprons and turned back her sleeves, than our troubles began;
of course she knew better than we how to manage every thing, and
the supper would not do at all, unless prepared under her direction.
We were glad when Mrs. Wetherbe said, “Too many
cooks spoil the broth, and I guess the girls better have it their
own way.” But Mrs. Randall was not to be dissuaded; she
had come to help, and she was sure she would rather be doing a
little than not. She gave accounts of all the balls, dinners, and
suppers, at which she had been, and tried to impress us with the
necessity of having our country quilting as much in the style
of them as we could.
“We must graduate our ginger-cakes,” she said, “and so form
a pyramid for the central ornament of the table; the butter
must be in the shape of pineapples, and we must either have no
meats, or else call it a dinner, and after it was eaten, serve round
coffee, on little salvers, for which purpose we should have pretty
china cups.”
I knew right well how ludicrous it would be to attempt the
twisting of Aunt Wetherbe's quilting and wood-chopping into a
fashionable party, but I had little eloquence or argument at command
with which to combat the city dame's positive assertions
and impertinent suggestions.
“Have you sent your notes of invitation yet?” she asked.
“No, nor I don't mean to send no notes nor nothing,” said
going to make a quilting, I reckon.”
But without heeding this pretty decisive answer Mrs. Randall
proceeded to remark that she had brought out some gilt-edged
paper and several specimen cards, among which she thought
perhaps the most elegant would be, “Mr. and Mrs. Wetherbe
at home,” specifying the time, and addressed to whoever should
be invited. But in vain this point was urged; the old-fashioned
aunt said she would have no such mess written; that Helph
might get on his horse and ride through the neighborhood and
ask the young people to come to the quilting and wood-chopping,
and that was enough.
There was but one thing more to vex us, while anticipating
the result of our efforts—a rumor that Mrs. Wetherbe had hired
a “nigger waiter” for a week. Many did not and could not believe
it, but others testified to the fact of having seen the said
waiter with their own eyes.
With all our combined forces, preparations went actively
forward, and before the appointed day every thing was in readiness—coffee
ground, tea ready for steeping, chickens prepared
for broiling, cakes and puddings baked, and all the extra saucers
filled with custards or preserves.
Ellen stoutly maintained her office as mistress of the ceremonies;
and Mrs. Randall took her place as assistant, so that mine
became quite a subordinate position, for which I was not sorry,
as I did not feel competent to grace the elevated position at first
assigned me.
Helph had once or twice been warned by his mother that Jenny
would not come, and that he need not trouble himself to go for
her; but he persisted in a determination to bring her; in fact
his heart was set on it; and the aunt seconded his decision in
the matter, as it was chiefly for Helph and Jenny she had designed
the merry-making, and she could not and would not be
cheated of her darling purpose.
“Well, have your own way and live the longer,” said the mother;
to which the son answered that such was his intention;
and accordingly, having procured the best buggy the neighborhood
afforded, and brushed his coat and hat with extra care, he
Dinner was served earlier than usual, and at one o'clock we were
all prepared—Mrs. Wetherbe in the black silk she had had for
twenty years, and Ellen in her white flounced dress, with a comb
of enormous size, and a wreath of flowers above her curls; but
when “Emeline” made her appearance, neither our surprise nor
a feeling of indignant disappointment could be concealed: she
had appropriated to her own use Jenny's new dress, which Mrs.
Wetherbe had bought expressly for this occasion.
“Now you need n't scold, Aunt Wetherbe,” she said; “it
was really too pretty a thing for that child; and besides, I intend
to get her another before long.”
“Humph!” said the old lady, “every bit and grain of my
comfort 's gone,” and removing her spectacles she continued silently
rubbing them with her apron, till Ellen, who was standing
at the window, on tip toe, announced that Jane Stillman was
coming “with her changeable silk on.”
And Jane Stillman had scarcely taken off her things when Polly
Harris was announced. She wore a thin white muslin, and a
broad-rimmed Leghorn hat, set off with a profusion of gay ribbons
and flowers, though she had ridden on horseback; but in
those days riding-dresses were not much in vogue, at least in
the neighborhood of Clovernook.
Amid jesting and laughter we took our places at the quilt,
while Ellen kept watch at the window and brought up the new
comers—sometimes two or three at once.
Mrs. Wetherbe had not been at all exclusive, and her invitations
included all, rich and poor, maid and mistress, as far as
she was acquainted. So, while some came in calico gowns, with
handkerchiefs tied over their heads, walking across the fields, others
were attired in silks and satins, and rode on horseback, or
were brought in market wagons by their fathers or brothers.
Along the yard fence hung rows of side-saddles, and old work
horses and sleek fillies were here and there tied to the branches
of the trees, to enjoy the shade, and nibble the grass, while the
long-legged colts responded to calls of their dams, capering
as they would.
Nimbly ran fingers up and down and across the quilt, and
strayed away from the work to the fields, and suppressed titters
broke into loud laughter, as, one after another, the young men
were seen with axes over their shoulders wending towards the
woods, the work went on bravely, and Polly Harris soon called
out, clapping her hands in triumph, “Our side is ready to `roll.”'
Ellen was very busy and very happy, now overseeing the
rolling of the quilt, now examining the stitching of some young
quilter, and now serving round cakes and cider, and giving to
every one kind words and smiles.
“Oh, Ellen,” called a young mischief-loving girl, “please let
me and Susan Milford go out and play;” and forthwith they
ran down stairs, and it was not till they were presently seen
skipping across the field with a basket of cakes and a jug of
cider, that their motive was suspected, and then, for the first time
that day, gossip found a vent.
“I'd be sorry,” said Mehitable Worthington, a tall, oldish girl,
“to be seen running after the boys, as some do.”
“La, me, Mehitable,” answered Ellen, who always had a good
word for everybody, “it ain't every one who is exemplary like
you, but they are just in fun, you know; young wild girls, you
know.”
“I don't know how young they be,” answered the spinster,
tartly, not much relishing any allusion to age, “but `birds of
a feather flock together,' and them that likes the boys can talk
in favor of others that likes them.”
“Why, don't you like them?” asked Hetty Martin, looking
up archly.
“Yes, I like them out of my sight,” answered Mehitable,
stitching fast.
Upon hearing this, the dimples deepened in Hetty's cheeks,
and the smile was as visible in her black eyes as on her lips.
“I suppose you wish you had gone along,” said Mehitable
maliciously, “but I can tell you the young doctor is not there;
he was called away to the country about twelve o'clock, to a
man that took sick yesterday.” Hetty's face crimsoned a little,
but otherwise she manifested no annoyance, and she replied,
laughingly, that she hoped he would get back before night.
Mehitable was not thus to be baffled, however; her heart was
overflowing with bitterness, for he whom she called the young
doctor was, in her estimation, old enough to be a more fitting
mate for herself than for Hetty, her successful rival; and no
sooner was she foiled in one direction than she turned in another,
revolving still in her mind such sweet and bitter fancies.
“I guess he is no such great things of a doctor after all,” she
said; and elevating her voice and addressing a maiden on the
opposite side of the quilt, she continued, “Did you hear, Elizabeth,
about his going to visit Mrs. Mercer, and supposing her attacked
with cholera, when in a day or two the disease fell in her
arms?”
This effervescence was followed by a general laughter, during
which Hetty went to the window, apparently to disentangle her
thread; but Ellen speedily relieved her by inviting her to go
with her below and see about the supper.
“I should think,” said Elizabeth, who cordially sympathized
with her friend, “the little upstart would be glad to get out of
sight;” and then came a long account of the miserable way in
which Hetty's family lived; “every one knows,” they said, “her
father drinks up every thing, and for all she looks so fine in her
white dress, most likely her mother has earned it by washing or
sewing: they say she wants to marry off her young beauty, but
I guess it will be hard to do.”
When Hetty returned to the garret, her eyes were not so
bright as they had been, but her subdued manner made her only
the prettier, and all, save the two ancient maidens alluded to,
were ready to say or do something for her pleasure. Those uncomfortable
persons, however, were not yet satisfied, and tipping
their tongues with the unkindest venom of all, they began
to talk of a wealthy and accomplished young lady, somewhere,
whom it was rumored the doctor was shortly to marry, in spite
of little flirtations at home, that some people thought meant
something. Very coolly they talked of the mysterious belle's
superior position and advantages, as though no humble and loving
heart shook under their words as under a storm of arrows.
The young girls came back from the woods, and hearing their
reports of the number of choppers, and how many trees were
though Hetty laughed less joyously, and her elderly rivals
maintained a dignified reserve.
Aside from this little episode, all went merry, and from the
west window a golden streak of sunshine stretched further and
further, till it began to climb the opposite wall, when the quilt
was rolled to so narrow a width that but few could work on it to
advantage, and Ellen, selecting the most expeditious to complete
the task, took with her the rest to assist in preparing the
supper, which was done to the music of vigorous strokes echoing
and re-echoing from the adjacent woods.
| V. Clovernook, or, Recollections of our
neighborhood in the West | |