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"Wa'n't it a providence I saved Jot's and Reuben's wedding ties! And here they are, one yellow and green mixed, and one brown. Do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to draw in a butterfly hovering over them two roses, and make it out of the neckties, green with brown spots. That'll bring in the husbands; and land! I wouldn't have either of 'em know it for the world.
"Whoever he marries now, Mis' Bascom'll have to say 't was the one she meant," laughed the Widow Buzzell. "I never was caught cheatin' yet, and if I live till Saturday I shall be seventy-one years old," said the old lady with some heat. "Hand me Jot's lead pencil, Diademy, and that old envelope on the winder sill. I'll write the name I think of, and shut it up in the old Bible.
Why, the thing that happened next, of course, and that was little Jot. "I'll work in a bud on my rose and one on Lovey's, and my bud'll be made of Jot's first trousers. The goods ain't very appropriate for a rosebud, but it'll have to do, for the idee is the most important thing in this rug.
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