Patty's Summer Days

“Well, if you’re bound to have it so,” she said, “do wait a minute, and let me get in there and pull up the blinds. It’s darker than Japhet’s coat pocket. I haven’t had this room opened since Mis’ Perkins across the road had her last tea fight. And I only did it then, ’cause I wanted to set some vases of my early primroses in the windows, so’s the guests might see ’em as they came by. Seems to me it’s a little musty in here, but land! a room will get musty if it’s shut up, and what earthly good is a parlour except to keep shut up?”

As Miss Bender talked, she had bustled about, and thrown open the six windows of the large room, into which Bertha had taken the girls.

The sunlight streamed in, and disclosed a scene which seemed to Patty like a wonderful vision of a century ago.

And indeed for more than a hundred years the furniture of the great parlour had stood precisely as they now saw it.

The furniture was entirely of antique mahogany, and included sofas and chairs, various kinds of tables, bookcases, a highboy, a lowboy and other pieces of furniture of which Patty knew neither the name nor the use.

The pictures on the wall, the ornaments, the books and the old-fashioned brass candlesticks were all of the same ancient period, and Patty felt as if she had been transported back into the life of her great-grandmother.

As she had herself a pretty good knowledge of the styles and varieties of antique furniture, she won Miss Bender’s heart at once by her appreciation of her Heppelwhite chairs and her Chippendale card-tables.

“You don’t say,” said Miss Bender, looking at Patty in admiration, “that you really know one style from another! Lots of people pretend they do, but they soon get confused when I try to pin ’em down.”

Patty smiled, as she disclaimed any great knowledge of the subject, but she soon found that she knew enough to satisfy her hostess, who, after all, enjoyed describing her treasures even more than listening to their praises.

Miss Aurora Bender was a lady of sudden and rapid physical motion. While the girls were examining the wonderful old relics, she darted from the room, and returned in a moment, carrying two large baskets. They were of the old-fashioned type of closely-woven reed, with a handle over the top, and a cover to lift up on either side.

Miss Bender plumped herself down in the middle of a long sofa, and began rapidly to extract the contents of the baskets, which proved to be numerous fat rolls of gayly-coloured cotton material.

“It’s patchwork,” she announced, “and I make it my habit to get all the help I can. I’m piecing a quilt, goose-chase pattern, and while I don’t know as it’s the prettiest there is, yet I don’t know as ’tisn’t. If you girls expect to sit the morning, and I must say you look like it, you might lend a helping hand. I made the geese smaller’n I otherwise would, ’cause I had so many little pieces left from my rising-sun quilt. Looks just as well, of course, but takes a powerful sight of time to sew. And I must say I’m sorter particular about sewing. However, I don’t s’pose you young things of this day and generation know much about sewing, but if you go slow you can’t help doing it pretty well.”

As she talked, Miss Bender had hastily presented each of the girls with a basted block of patchwork, and had passed around a needle-cushion and a small box containing a number of old-fashioned silver thimbles.

“Lucky I had a big family,” she commented, “else I don’t know what I’d done for thimbles to go around. I can’t abide brass things, that make your finger look like it had been dipped in ink, but thanks to my seven sisters who are all restin’ comfortably in their graves, I have enough thimbles to provide quite a parcel of company. Here’s your thread. Now sew away while we talk, and we’ll have a real nice little bee.”

Although not especially fond of sewing, the girls looked upon this episode as a good joke, and fell to work at their bits of cloth.

Elise was a dainty little needlewoman, and overhanded rapidly and neatly; Patty did fairly well, though her stitches were not quite even, but poor Bertha found her work a difficult task. She never did fancywork, and knew nothing of sewing, so her thread knotted and broke, and her patch presented a sorry sight.

“Land o’ Goshen!” exclaimed Miss Aurora, “is that the best you can do, Bertha Warner? The town ought to take up a subscription to put you in a sewin’ school. Here child, let me show you.”

Miss Bender took Bertha’s block and tried to straighten it out, while Bertha herself made funny faces at the other girls over Miss Aurora’s shoulder.

“I can see you,” said that lady calmly, “I guess you forget that big mirror opposite. But them faces you’re makin’ ain’t half so bad as this sewin’ of yours.”

The girls all laughed outright at Miss Bender’s calm acceptance of Bertha’s sauciness, and Bertha herself was in nowise embarrassed by the implied rebuke.

“There, child,” said Miss Aurora, smoothing out the seams with her thumb nail, “now try again, and see if you can’t do it some better.”

“Is your quilt nearly done, Miss Bender?” asked Patty.

“Yes, it is. I’ve got three hundred and eighty-seven geese finished, and four hundred’s enough. I work on it myself quite a spell every day, and I think in two or three days I’ll have it all pieced.”

“Oh, Miss Bender,” cried Bertha, “then won’t you quilt it? Won’t you have a quilting party while my friends are here?”

“Humph,” said Miss Aurora, scornfully, “you children can’t quilt fit to be seen.”

“Elise can,” said Bertha, looking at Elise’s dainty block, “and Patty can do pretty well, and as I would spoil your quilt if I touched it, Miss Aurora, I’ll promise to let it alone; but I can do other things to help you. Oh, do have the party, will you?”

“Why, I don’t know but I will. I kinder calculated to have it soon, anyhow, and if so be’s you young people would like to come to it, I don’t see anything to hinder. S’pose we say a week from to-day?”

The date was decided on, and the girls went home in high glee over the quilting party, for Bertha told them it would be great fun of a sort they had probably never seen before.

The days flew by rapidly at Pine Branches. Patty rapidly recovered her usual perfect health and rosy cheeks. She played golf and tennis, she went for long rides in the Warners’ motor-car or carriages, and also on horseback. There were many guests at the house, coming and going, and among these one day came Mr. Phelps, whom they had met on their journey out from New York.

This gentleman proved to be of a merry disposition, and added greatly to the gaiety of the party. While he was there, Roger also came back for a few days, having left Mr. and Mrs. Farrington for a short stay at Nantucket.

One morning, as Patty and Roger stood in the hall, waiting for the other young people to join them, they were startled to hear angry voices in the music-room.

This room was separated from them by the length of the library, and though not quite distinct, the voices were unmistakably those of Bertha and Winthrop.

“You did!” said Winthrop’s voice, “don’t deny it! You’re a horrid hateful old thing!”

“I didn’t! any such thing,” replied Bertha’s voice, which sounded on the verge of tears.

“You did! and if you don’t give it back to me, I’ll tell mother. Mother said if she caught you at such a thing again, she’d punish you as you deserved, and I’m going to tell her!”

Patty felt most uncomfortable at overhearing this quarrel. She had never before heard a word of disagreement between Bertha and her brother, and she was surprised as well as sorry to hear this exhibition of temper.

Roger looked horrified, and glanced at Patty, not knowing exactly what to do.

The voices waxed more angry, and they heard Bertha declare, “You’re a horrid old telltale! Go on and tell, if you want to, and I’ll tell what you stole out of father’s desk last week!”

“How did you know that?” and Winthrop’s voice rang out in rage.

“Oh, I know all about it. You think nobody knows anything but yourself, Smarty-cat! Just wait till I tell father and see what he’ll do to you.”

“You won’t tell him! Promise me you won’t, or I’ll,—I’ll hit you! There, take that!”

“That” seemed to be a resounding blow, and immediately Bertha’s cries broke forth in angry profusion.

“Stop crying,” yelled her brother, “and stop punching me. Stop it, I say!”

At this point the conversation broke off suddenly, and Patty and Roger stared in stupefied amazement as they saw Bertha and Winthrop walk in smiling, and hand in hand, from exactly the opposite direction from which their quarrelsome voices had sounded.

“What’s the matter?” said Bertha. “Why do you look so shocked and scared to death?”

“N-nothing,” stammered Patty; while Roger blurted out, “We thought we heard you talking over that way, and then you came in from this way. Who could it have been? The voices were just like yours.”

Bertha and Winthrop broke into a merry laugh.

“It’s the phonograph,” said Bertha. “Winthrop and I fixed up that quarrel record, just for fun; isn’t it a good one?”

Roger understood at once, and went off into peals of laughter, but Patty had to have it explained to her.

“You see,” said Winthrop, “we have a big phonograph, and we make records for it ourselves. Bertha and I fixed up that one just for fun, and Elise is in there now looking after it. Come on in, and see it.”

They all went into the music-room, and Winthrop entertained them by putting in various cylinders, which they had made themselves.

Almost as funny as the quarrel was Bertha’s account of the occasion when she fell into the creek, and many funny recitations by Mr. Warner also made amusing records.

Patty could hardly believe that she had not heard her friends’ voices really raised in anger, until Winthrop put the same record in and let her hear it again.

He also promised her that some day she should make a record for herself, and leave it at Pine Branches as a memento of her visit.

CHAPTER XVI

A QUILTING PARTY

Miss Aurora Bender’s quilting party was to begin at three o’clock in the afternoon, and the girls started early in order to see all the fun. They were to stay to supper, and the young men were to come over and escort them home in the evening.

When they reached Miss Bender’s, they found that many and wonderful preparations had been made.

Miss Aurora had two house servants, Emmeline and Nancy, but on this occasion she had called in two more to help. And indeed there was plenty to be done, for a quilting bee was to Miss Bender’s mind a function of great importance.

The last of a large family, Miss Bender was a woman of great wealth but of plain and old-fashioned tastes. Though amply able to gratify any extravagant wish, she preferred to live as her parents had lived before her, and she had in no sense kept pace with the progress of the age.

When the three girls reached the old country house, they were met at the front door by the elderly Nancy. She courtesied with old-time grace, and invited them to step into the bedroom, and lay off their things.

This bedroom, which was on the ground floor, was a large apartment, containing a marvellously carved four-post bedstead, hung with old-fashioned chintz curtains and draperies.

The room also contained two massive bureaus, a dressing-table and various chairs of carved mahogany, and in the open fireplace was an enormous bunch of feathery asparagus, flecked with red berries.

“Oh,” cried Patty in delight, “if Nan could see this room she’d go perfectly crazy. Isn’t this house great? Why, it’s quite as full of beautiful old things as Washington’s house at Mt. Vernon.”

“I haven’t seen that,” said Bertha, “but it doesn’t seem as if anything could be more complete or perfect in its way than this house is. Come on, girls, are you ready?”

The girls went to the parlour, and there found the quilt all prepared for working on. Patty had never before seen a quilt stretched on a quilting-frame, and was extremely interested.

It was a very large quilt, and its innumerable small triangles, which made up the goose-chase pattern, were found to present a methodical harmony of colouring, which had not been observable before the strips were put together.

The large pieced portion was uppermost, and beneath it was the lining, with layers of cotton in between. Each edge was pinned at intervals to a long strip of material which was wound round and round the frame. The four corners of the frame were held up by being tied to the backs of four chairs, and on each of the four sides of the quilt were three more chairs for the expected guests to occupy.

Almost on the stroke of three the visitors arrived, and though some of them were of a more modern type than Miss Bender, yet three or four were quite as old-fashioned and quaint-mannered as their hostess.

“They are native up here,” Bertha explained to Patty. “There are only a few of the old New England settlers left. Most of the population here is composed of city people who have large country places. You won’t often get an opportunity to see a gathering like this.”

Patty realised the truth of this, and was both surprised and pleased to find that these country ladies showed no trace of embarrassment or self-consciousness before the city girls.

It seemed not to occur to them that there was any difference in their effects, and indeed Patty was greatly amused because one of the old ladies seemed to take it for granted that Patty was a country girl, and brought up according to old-time customs.

This old lady, whose name was Mrs. Quimby, sat next to Patty at the quilt, and after she had peered through her glasses at the somewhat uneven stitches which poor Patty was trying her best to do as well as possible, she remarked:

“You ain’t got much knack, have you? You’ll have to practise quite a spell longer before you can quilt your own house goods. How old be you?”

“Seventeen,” said Patty, feeling that her work did not look very well, considering her age.

“Seventeen!” exclaimed Mrs. Quimby. “Laws’ sake, I was married when I was sixteen, and I quilted as good then as I do now. I’m over eighty now, and I’d ruther quilt than do anything, ’most. You don’t look to be seventeen.”

“And you don’t look to be eighty, either,” said Patty, smiling, glad to be able to turn the subject by complimenting the old lady.

The quilting lasted all the afternoon. Patty grew very tired of the unaccustomed work, and was glad when Miss Bender noticed it, and told her to run out into the garden with Bertha. Bertha was not allowed to touch the quilt with her incompetent fingers, but Elise sewed away, thoroughly enjoying it all, and with no desire to avail herself of Miss Bender’s permission to stop and rest. Patty and Bertha wandered through the old-fashioned garden, in great delight. The paths were bordered with tiny box hedges, which, though many years old, were kept clean and free from deadwood or blemish of any sort, and were perfectly trimmed in shape.

The garden included quaint old flowers such as marigolds, sweet Williams, bleeding hearts, bachelors’ buttons, Jacob’s ladder and many others of which Patty did not even know the names. Tall hollyhocks, both single and double, grew against the wall, and a hop vine hung in green profusion.

Every flower bed was of exact shape, and looked as if not a leaf or a stem would dare to grow otherwise than straight and true.

“What a lovely old garden,” said Patty, sniffing at a sprig of lemon verbena which she had picked.

“Yes, it’s wonderful,” said Bertha. “I mean to ask Miss Bender if I mayn’t bring my camera over, and get a picture of it, and if they’re good, I’ll give you one.”

“Do,” said Patty, “and take some pictures inside the house too. I’d like to show them to Nan.”

“Tell me about Nan,” said Bertha. “She’s your stepmother, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” said Patty, “but she’s only six years older than I am, so that the stepmother part of it seems ridiculous. We’re more like sisters, and she’s perfectly crazy over old china and old furniture. She’d love Miss Bender’s things.”

“Perhaps she’ll come up while you’re here,” said Bertha. “I’ll ask mother to write for her.”

“Thank you,” said Patty, “but I’m afraid she won’t. My father can’t leave for his vacation until July, and then we’re all going away together, but I don’t know where.”

Just then Elise came flying out to them, with the announcement that supper was ready, and they were to come right in, quick.

The table was spread in the large room which Patty had thought was the kitchen.

It probably had been built for that purpose, but other kitchens had been added beyond it, and for the last half century it had been used as a dining-room.

The table was drawn out to its full length, which made it very long indeed, and it was filled with what seemed to Patty viands enough to feed an army. At one end was a young pig roasted whole, with a lemon in his mouth, and a design in cloves stuck into his fat little side. At the other end was a baked ham whose crisp golden-brown crust could only be attained by the old cook who had been in the Bender family for many years.

Up and down the length of the table on either side was a succession of various cold meats, alternating with pickles, jellies and savories of various sorts.

After the guests were seated, Nancy brought in platters of smoking-hot biscuits from the kitchen, and Miss Aurora herself made the tea.

The furnishings of the table were of old blue and white china of great age and priceless value. The old family silver too was a marvel in itself, and the tea service which Miss Bender manipulated with some pride was over a hundred years old.

Patty was greatly impressed at this unusual scene, but when the plates were removed after the first course, and the busy maid-servants prepared to serve the dessert, she was highly entertained.

For the next course, though consisting only of preserves and cake, was served in an unusual manner. The preserves included every variety known to housewives and a few more. In addition to this, Miss Aurora announced in a voice which was calm with repressed satisfaction, that she had fourteen kinds of cake to put at the disposal of her guests. None of these sorts could be mixed with any other sort, and the result was fourteen separate baskets and platters of cake.

The table became crowded before they had all been brought in from the kitchen, and quite as a matter of course, the serving maids placed the later supplies on chairs, which they stood behind the guests, and the ladies amiably turned round in their seats, inspected the cake, partook of it if they desired, and gracefully pushed the chair along to the next neighbour.

This seemed to the city girls a most amusing performance, but Patty immediately adapted herself to what was apparently the custom of the house, and gravely looked at the cake each time, selected such as pleased her fancy and pushed the chair along.

Noticing Patty’s gravity as she accomplished this performance, Elise very nearly lost her own, but Patty nudged her under the table, and she managed to behave with propriety.

The conversation at the table was without a trace of hilarity, and included only the most dignified subjects. The ladies ate mincingly, with their little fingers sticking out straight, or curved in what they considered a most elegant fashion.

Miss Aurora was in her element. She was truly proud of her home and its appointments, and she dearly loved to entertain company at tea. To her mind, and indeed to the minds of most of those present, the success of a tea depended entirely upon the number of kinds of cake that were served, and Miss Bender felt that with fourteen she had broken any hitherto known record.

It was an unwritten law that each kind of cake must be really a separate recipe. To take a portion of ordinary cup-cake batter, and stir in some chopped nuts, and another portion and mix in some raisins, by no means met the requirements of the case. This Patty learned from remarks made by the visitors, and also from Miss Aurora’s own delicately veiled intimations that each of her fourteen kinds was a totally different and distinct recipe.

Patty couldn’t help wondering what would become of all this cake, for after all, the guests could eat but a small portion of it.

And it occurred to her also that the ways of the people in previous generations, as exemplified in Miss Bender’s customs, seemed to show quite as great a lack of a sense of proportion as many of our so-called modern absurdities.

After supper the guests immediately departed for their homes. Carriages arrived for the different ones, and they went away, after volubly expressing to their hostess their thanks for her delightful entertainment.

The girls expected Winthrop and Roger to come for them in the motor-car, but they had not told them to come quite so early as now seemed necessary. In some embarrassment, they told Miss Bender that they would have to trespass on her hospitality for perhaps an hour longer.

“My land o’ goodness!” she exclaimed, looking at them in dismay, “why I’ve got to set this house to rights, and I can’t wait an hour to begin!”

“Don’t mind us, Miss Bender,” said Bertha. “Just shut us up in some room by ourselves, and we’ll stay there, and not bother you a bit; unless perhaps we can help you?”

“Help me! No, indeed. There can’t anybody help me when I’m clearin’ up after a quiltin’, unless it’s somebody that knows my ways. But I’d like to amuse you children, somehow. I’ll tell you what, you can go up in the front bedroom, if you like, and there’s a chest of old-fashioned clothes there. Can’t you play at dressin’ up?”

“Yes, indeed,” cried Bertha. “Just the thing! Give us some candles.”

Provided with two candles apiece, the girls followed Miss Aurora to a large bedroom on the second floor, which also boasted its carved four-poster and chintz draperies.

“There,” said Miss Aurora, throwing open a great chest, “you ought to get some fun out of trying on those fol-de-rols, and peacocking around; but don’t come downstairs to show off to me, for you’ll only bother me out of my wits. I’ll let you know when your folks come for you.”

Miss Bender trotted away, and the girls, quite ready for a lark, tossed over the quaint old gowns.

Beautiful costumes were there, of the period of about a hundred years ago. Lustrous silks and dainty dimities; embroidered muslins and heavy velvets; Patty had never seen such a sight. After looking them over, the girls picked out the ones they preferred, and taking off their own frocks proceeded to try them on.

Bertha had chosen a blue and white silk of a bayadere stripe, with lace ruffles at the neck and wrists and a skirt of voluminous fulness. Elise wore a white Empire gown that made her look exactly like the Empress Josephine, while Patty arrayed herself in a flowered silk of Dresden effect with a pointed bodice, square neck, and elbow sleeves with lace frills.

In great glee, the girls pranced around, regretting there was no one to whom they might exhibit their masquerade costumes. But Miss Bender had been so positive in her orders that they dared not go downstairs.

Suddenly they heard the toot of an automobile.

“That’s our car,” cried Bertha. “I know the horn. Let’s go down just as we are, for the benefit of Winthrop and Roger.”

In answer to Miss Bender’s call from below, the girls trooped downstairs, and merrily presented themselves for inspection.

Mr. Phelps had come with the others, and if the young men were pleased at the picture the three girls presented, Miss Aurora herself was no less so.

“My,” she said, “you do look fine, I declare! Now, I’ll tell you what I’ll do; I’ll make each of you young ladies a present of the gown you have on, if you care to keep it. I’ll never miss them, for I have trunks and chests full, besides those you saw, and I’m right down glad to give them to you. You can wear them sometimes at your fancy dress parties.”

The girls were overjoyed at Miss Bender’s gift, and Bertha declared they would wear them home, and she would send over for their other dresses the next day.

So, donning their wraps, the merry modern maids in their antique garb made their adieus to Miss Aurora, and were soon in the big motor-car speeding for home.

CHAPTER XVII