1867.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
223 
Fig'. 1.— Ol'U RrSTIC SEATS. 
Stumps, ftuilts, and Counterpanes. 
rniZK E-'AY BT MISS EVA M. COLUN's. 
Jennie ami I have spent the morning among llic 
Iiomlofk.s. We started out after breakfaot with 
kni\ ■es and basket.*, for mos.*, with which to dee- 
or.ilc our stump. An old sugar maple, standing 
l y the south dining-room door, had been dying 
l>y inches for years;—with tuc c.xception of the 
y ar it was struck by lightning, when it took a 
long stride in its process of decay. Its size sensi- 
l ly diminished as its dead branches were one after 
another out away, while the size of the hollow in 
Its trunk was lus vi-sibly augmented, (Fig. 2,) until it 
would admit almost any of us but father. La.st full 
we discovered a number of new fi-ssures through to 
the outside, and tluat it had become so open that 
Jennie could no longer hide there; it was but a 
shell, and the first 
frost proved a feather 
too much in its cap, 
and one morning we 
found it scattered 
about on the ground 
in particlc8,8omewhat 
larger than those of 
tlic “One-boss shay,” 
of poetic fame. Father 
spoke once of *iaving 
the roots dug out, but 
the majority exclaim¬ 
ed against the mea¬ 
sure, and triumphed 
ns n.sual. It was such 
a beautiful stump, of 
hl.storic fame! All that 
was left of the very tree into which our great, great 
grandmother climbed, when she was a little girl at 
home alone, tj hide away from the unfriendly In¬ 
dians, whom she heard coming, and who killed 
her dog, that now lies buried under the tree, 
and stole all the hams; and no one knows what 
might liave become of her h.ad she made a lisp of a 
sound. It reminds us too of tlic wolves she was so 
couragcotisly driving away with fire-brands, when 
she was boiling sugar, in the night, but which 
turned out to be our great, great grandfather, 
from over the creek, who w.as merely testing the 
l-vavery of the pretty maiden, and had come through 
the woods—a meadow now—to sit up and watch the 
V4rup with her. OL! the stump tells us many a 
lig. 2. — i!i!: ui.o Sit Mi’. 
Fig. 8.—PATTERN FOB QUILT. 
tale of the past, aud it seems almost like sacrilege 
not to cherish It still. Soon after the tree fell 
Ralph filled the bottom of the stump with earth 
and muck, aud carefully transplanted a wild honey¬ 
suckle there. The llowci-s are now filling the air 
with the sweetest fragrance. This spring, he drove 
in a strong, branching stick for a support for the 
Ivy, which used to run wild over the tree, and fast¬ 
ened rude scats amoug the roots. Katie has plant¬ 
ed a rose tree on the other side, and Jennie and I 
have added our gift of moss. The stump is already 
a pleasing rustic ornament, and has the present 
appearance of Fig. 1, and promises to be a fa¬ 
vorite family retreat in the warm summer days to 
come, and an eloquent stump speaker of the past. 
I had been saving paper rags all -winter, having 
in view a white spread for my bed. The idea has 
pn'vailed with us that patchwork quilts alone-were 
suitable in rooms that were commonly used. A 
patchwork quilt is a perpetual annoyance to me. 
The three that I pieced myself before I was live 
years old, my only ones indeed, were stored a-way 
on a shelf in the upper hall closet—carefully folded 
wrong side out, because I could never bear to see a 
feature of one of them—until the Sauihiry Com¬ 
mission absorbed them. I only hope their in-escnce 
allordcd as signal relief to some poor soldiers, as 
their absence to “a friend.” However, I totally 
relinquished my purpose of buying a spread, the 
first time I had an opportunity to price them, aud 
let the rags go for tin as usual, but did not renounce 
my intention of having one nevertheless. We have 
some coarse, heavy, double-width sheets, which 
Charlie had at College, but which have been used 
very little since, on account of being so heavy. I 
thought the groundwork of the counterpane I was 
examining, was not very unlike Charlie’s sheets, 
barring the price; so I told our storekeeper “I 
would^’iiot take any to-day,” and hastened home to 
see what could be done with one of them. Aftci 
Fig. 5.— now IT LOOKS. 
spreading it over the bed, and looking at it from all 
sides, I removed it to my large work table the 
floor—and, bearing in mind the dimensions of the 
bed, with a large bowl and small meat-platter, drew 
a design in dots, and worked in doulile candle wick- 
in'’- with a darning needle over a smaller table, like 
that shown in Fig. 3. The wicking is merely drawn 
once through the cloth at each dot *, and the ends 
arc trimmed off about a third of an inch in length. 
It was some trouble to make it, and when finished 
it looked as in Fig. 4. It took all my leisure 
time for three or four days; but it pays capitally, 
because I am so well satisfied witli it, and it looks 
fo nicely on iffy bed, (Fig. 5). Mary says she has 
Fig. 0.— ■wnii’PixG IT OUT. 
seen wick spreads before, and that they will wash. 
It is only necessary to fasten them strongly with 
clothes’ pins to a high line, Fig. G, and frequently 
■whip them out while drying. Katie and Jennie are 
thinking of making one for tlieir room, but say 
they shall improvise a prettier pattern than mine. 
Leaves from the Diary of a Young House¬ 
keeper.—No. IV. 
PRIZE ESSAY BY MRS. LAURA E. LY'MAN, STAJIFORD, CT. 
Jane \Qth .—Mother has been passing a -week with 
me. Slie seemed very much pleased with all my 
household arrangements. I took a deal of pride in 
showing her that the efforts she had made to teach 
me the art of housekeeping, had not been fruitless, 
and that the maxims she used to inculcate were 
not forgotten in my economy. Ilow many thous¬ 
and times I have heard her repeat: “ A place for 
everything, and everything in its place; ” “ A time 
for everything, and everything in its time;” 
“Once well done is twice done.” I took her into 
my linen closet and showed her my sheets, snowy 
Avhite and foiled nicely, with sprigs of lavender be¬ 
tween. 1 gave her a peep into my cedar chest. 
ivherc my woolens, furs, and winter clothing were 
•towed away, secure from the moths; and slio-n’cd 
ler my bags, hanging each upon its own proper 
lail, with a label stitched upon it; one with all my 
laper patterns in it; another filled with pieces of 
•ilk; another with new calico pieces, and another 
ivith old; my two rag-bags, one for wdiite and the 
ather for colored; my barrel, in which all woolens 
destined for rugs and carpets arc kept; my button 
bags, and all the series so arranged, that in the 
darkest night I can lay my hands on everything lu 
the house which can possibly be c.allcd for ; my 
old linen pieces clean and tied up in a roll ready lor 
bandages or sore fingers; my woolen pieces for 
patches and my worn domestic for linings. All these 
little evidences that I remembered the lessons ot 
thrift, order, and economy she had taught me, 
were exceedingly gratifying to her. 
In exploring the attic, she discovered two or 
three old-fashioned, rush-bottomed chairs, the 
frames of which were still sound as ever, though 
the rushes had long since disappeared. These, she 
said could, with a little ingenuity, be covered, and 
with a coat of varnish, do service for another gener¬ 
ation. So we carried these specimens of a past 
a'rcdown into the kitchen, and stitched o\ei the 
scat apiece of strong canvas which we covered 
with some furniture c.alico, and I have thice new 
chairs in my kitchen which afford decidedly the 
most comfortable seats in it, except my sewing 
chair. The coat of varnish which I put on them 
makes them look like new. 
Mother was very much pleased with ^7 
room and said it would answer admirably for all 
Jim months, except the hottest. Her father was an 
old-fashioned New Hampshire farmer, aud she was 
brought up to wash and pick wool, card, spin and 
