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Updated: June 2, 2025
There, too, are huskings, and apple-bees, and quilting parties, and huge old-fashioned fireplaces piled with crackling walnut, flinging its rosy light over happy countenances of youth and scarcely less happy age.
She went home very early from the quilting, and that night she said to her husband, as they sat on the doorstone, waiting for the milk to cool: "Nicholas, little things I've got hold of, first an' last, make me conclude folks pity father. Do you s'pose they do?" Young Nick selected a fat plantain spike, and began stripping the seeds. "Well, I dunno what for," said he, after consideration.
At the quilting and apple paring bees held about the time of such a new gown, Miss Mercy was the center of interest, and no other gossip was started till she had completed her confidences as to the material, cost, cut and fit of the foreshadowed garment.
"I doubt not she is very happy." "She seems to be; she is singing from morning till night." "I am so glad. I only saw Mr. Stanley at the time of the launching of the ship, you remember, but thought him worthy of any woman's love. Do you still have delightful times at quiltings and huskings?" "In the country, customs rarely change. The young ladies still have their quilting parties.
He came clattering up to the school door with an invitation to Ichabod to attend a merry-making or "quilting frolic," to be held that evening at Mynheer Van Tassel's; and having delivered his message with that air of importance, and effort at fine language, which a negro is apt to display on petty embassies of the kind, he dashed over the brook, and was seen scampering away up the hollow, full of the importance and hurry of his mission.
Samson says in his diary: "His tender play with the little lad gave me another look at the man Lincoln." "Some one proposed once that we should call that stream the Minnehaha," said Abe as he walked along. "After this Joe and I are going to call it the Minneboohoo." The women of the little village had met at a quilting party at ten o'clock with Mrs. Martin Waddell.
Among these were quilting bees, when the women and girls of the neighbourhood assembled in the afternoon, and turned out those skilfully and often artistically made rugs, so comfortable to lie under during the cold winter nights. There was often a great deal of sport at the close of one of these social industrial gatherings.
The quilting frame was set up in a large chamber at the right of the parlor, the "comfortable" to be quilted was stretched upon it, and at the four sides sat as many matrons and elderly maidens as could crowd together, each with needle in hand.
But at the close of the three minutes her patience was exhausted. "What are you doing there?" she said. "I am quilting your cap, Aunt Stanbury." "Put it down. You shan't do anything for me. I won't have you touch my things any more. I don't like pretended service." "It is not pretended, Aunt Stanbury." "I say it is pretended.
"Indeed we'll do our part, Priscilla," her brother assured her. Faith told her father of the disappearance of Mr. Trent and Louise; of the quilting party, and of all the happenings since his November visit. But she did not tell him of guiding the Connecticut man to the pathway up the cliff to Fort Ticonderoga. It was evident that Mr.
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