On Moses Wopp devolved the responsibility of driving the ladies of the household over the two miles of prairie lying between the Wopp and that of Mrs. Mifsud. Betty, too, was going. The Ladies’ Aid did not meet every day, nor had it always on hand the business of an autograph quilt, on which flourished in outlined boldness the name of every man, woman and child in the district and many out of it.
“Wartch yer team Moses,” commanded Mrs. Wopp from the back seat of the .
“I am wartchin’, Mar,” replied Moses, “But Josh ’pears to be worryin’ ’bout somethin’. He’s chewin’ his bit an’ breakin’ a run-like every minute.”
“An’ well I know who’s makin’ him an’ . You needn’t try to deceive yer, Mar,” chided the knowing matron.
The amused laugh of Nell Gordon, who sat beside Mrs. Wopp, floated past the youthful pair in front and perhaps helped to embue Moses with the reckless spirit of Jehu. The boy secretly admired his teacher, though he had an idea he would soundly pummel any boy with sufficient to accuse him of it.
“Whoa, Josh! Whoa, Jake!” he roared, exerting himself to the utmost to hold in the pair, but in reality giving a few practised touches on the which defeated his commands.
With a start and the surprised horses, now indignant, set off at a .
The trail was for the most part smooth and uneventful, but here and there the wheels of the democrat dipped into a gopher hole, causing anxiety and , especially to those in the back seat. These ladies were holding on to the side bars with utmost , yet Mrs. Wopp afterwards asserted, that when a particularly vicious depression was encountered, they were bounced violently at least three feet in the air and were worried lest they should not land on the seat again. However, they displayed great under these circumstances, and by the time Moses had calmed the horses to a slower pace, they had self-possession.
“It’s that Jake. He’s sich an ornery animule,” explained the boy, thus shamelessly a patient and much enduring character.
The Mifsud ranch-house was in a valley close to . This stream was guarded in its course by a fringe of trees which extended several rods on each side. Moses drove up to the house door with a flourish and his passengers alighted. His mother paused a moment to urge, “Be sure an’ git yer chores done early, Moses, an’ you an’ be here fer supper by six o’clock.”
“Orl right, Mar,” answered Moses, dutifully, his mouth watering in of the goodies in .
Several ladies of the district were already busy “scttin’ up” the quilt when Mrs. Wopp and her satellites entered the Mifsud .
“Oh, aint it beaut-i-ful?” admired Betty. The creation which she admired so immensely was made of pieces of silk of many colors and was reminiscent of numerous long-defunct waists, ribbons, neckties, hats and, perhaps, even a few wedding gowns which had travelled from several corners of the globe to be welded together in this glorious finale. The pieces, irregular in shape, had been sewn together and the seams beautified by feather-stitching. On the majority of the patches were names worked in red, green or yellow, whichever color contrasted most suitably with the background. Here, for the sum of ten cents, names which might otherwise have fallen into oblivion were to live and bloom for incalculable years. The quilt now nearing completion would, when finished by its energetic creators, be sold at and it was expected to bring a handsome sum. The money so realized would revive the finances of the Ladies’ Aid.
“Oh, Miss Gordon, here’s my name,” announced Betty, excitedly, pointing to a central part of the quilt. “An’ here’s yours right clost to it.”
“How nice, Betty,” answered Nell, who had threaded her needle and was now prepared to join those already busily stitching away. “You and I will travel down the ages side by side.”
“But s’pose you change yer name, Miss Gordon,” whispered Betty slyly. “Then nobody’d know ’twas you.”
“I must be very careful, then, not to change it,” responded Nell, as she took the seat assigned to her.
The elders, having settled at their task, Maria Mifsud and Betty, who were considered too young and irresponsible to assist with such important work, made their way to the creek, that source of amusement for the youthful. They were accompanied by Maria’s small brother, St. Elmo. Here, during the long summer afternoon they themselves, even the rather Maria entering with into childish fun.
In the house, meanwhile, affairs were quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who to literary . She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been with side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the . According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented had considered the tall form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”
“I wonder who’ll buy this here quilt,” speculated Mrs. Wopp, as she over her task, “there’s shorely a great sight o’ work on it. As fer me, I aint got time to do much fancy work an’ I’d never git round to a job like this fer myself.”
“Not many of us would, Mrs. Wopp,” remarked Mrs. Bliggins, a small fair woman with a round countenance. “What with cookin’, an’ washin’, an’ cleanin’, an’ buttermakin’, an’ hundreds of other things, there’s not much time for fancy work.&rd............