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BIRCH-BARK BASKETS, ETC 
“ The day is cold, and dark and dreary; 
It rains, and the winds are never weary; 
The vine—” 
“ There, there, Annie ! don’t give us any more of 
that dolorous song'. Mr. Long-fellow (much as I love 
his sweet songs), when he wrote that, must have been 
laboring under a fit of November blues. And the 
air you sing it to is such a mournful wail; a more 
fitting accompaniment could not be found. The day 
is indeed dark and dreary enough—one can hardly 
tolerate it; so please don’t immortalize it in song.” 
The song ceased, and as Annie turned a disconso¬ 
late look on her sister she exclaimed : 
“ 0 Carrie! isn’t it dreadful ? Summer is gone, 
and gloomy winter will soon be here. Look at the 
desolation without! Our beautiful hanging-baskets, 
trailing vines, and summer decorations prostrate, 
and our dear flowers all too soon must bow to the 
Frost King. The winter will be so long and cheerless 
without them!” 
“ Girls!” I called from my seat in the corner, 
“ with all your abundance of home comfort, how can 
the thought of winter bring with it such gloom 
“ Why, the flowers, auntie ! the dear flowers; how 
can we live without them ?” 
“ But,” said I, “ instead of packing away your 
choice plants in the cellar, as I saw you doing yester¬ 
day, why not have a window garden, and play per¬ 
petual summer 
“ Oh! ” sighed Annie, “ we’ve tried that to our 
grief; the treacherous wood-fires, you know, will not 
ensure our plants, and the first thing one knows old 
Boreas creeps in at some crack and every tender 
shrub must succumb to his icy breath. Many is the 
time when my tears have almost frozen over the 
limpid remains of last night’s treasures. I will never 
try it again with no other security than a wood-fire; 
and papa’s numerous wood-lots furnish a life-long- 
despair of ever seeing a ton of coal on these premi¬ 
ses,” and Annie sighed again. 
“ I was not aware of your trials in this quarter, 
Annie, but, with the poet when discoursing of the 
tender passion, I will sa} r : ‘ Better to have loved 
and lost than never to have loved at all.’ If I had 
such resources as this paper opens to you (holding 
up the Flokal Cabinet I had been perusing) I 
would never despair of adorning my rooms with rare 
beauties from the winter woods and hillsides that 
would make me forget my flowers for a few- months. 
Have you examined this last number f It is just a 
rich feast to an artistic taste, and is ever a delight the 
year round. Only read here of the choice bits that 
winter gives, that will compare favorably with sum¬ 
mer’s floral offerings. You get the idea from these 
pages that a ramble over the hills and through the 
woods, with a little display of taste in ax-ranging 
your trophies, will brighten your room amazingly. 
The Cabinet tells of mosses, bright-tinted leaves, 
green ferns, ornamental grasses, etc., and you have 
not gathered one handful of the beauties yet.” 
Annie yawned. 
“ Mosses are grave, and I never supposed much 
could be done with them in the way of winter deco¬ 
ration.” 
“Mosses are beautiful,” I contended; “I never 
looked upon any piece of fancy work of my own crea¬ 
tion with so much satisfaction as my moss work.” 
“ Do give us a description of some of your handi¬ 
work in that line, auntie,” said Annie, just beginning 
to wake up to the subject. 
“ Well!” said I, “ I at first conceived the idea of 
making a moss picture for a fair. My first step was 
to take a thin piece of board, to which I fastened a 
piece of drawing-paper, making a smooth white sur¬ 
face. I then traced the outlines of a landscape with a 
lead-pencil. First was a cottage. The roof I cover¬ 
ed with a piece of white-oak bark cut with a sharp 
penknife just the shape and size of the roof 1 had out¬ 
lined. I chose a piece of bark as near the color of 
ordinary roofing as possible, gluing it to the surface. 
I then took the moss or lichen that clings to oak 
wood, somewhat resembling a dried oak leaf. The 
wrong side of this is of light color and has an ap¬ 
pearance like stone, so with this I covered my cot¬ 
tage. The blinds were cut from green leaves press¬ 
ed and dried, and the doors were of the same materi¬ 
al as the leaves, all glued on in their respective 
places. The smoke from the chimney was composed 
of small particles of the heads of what is sometimes 
called ‘ pussy-grass,’ which is just smoke color. Be¬ 
side the house stood a tree, the foliage of which was 
composed of bits of pressed tansy, and the trunk of 
the tree was a bit of a twig, the shape and size I fan¬ 
cied, split through the centre, and the flat side glued 
to the surface, making a good representation. From 
the smooth bark I cut some fine rails, with which I 
manufactured a fence and surrounded the house. 
Another rail fence in front of this helped to form a 
road, along which a farm-wagon was drawn by a de¬ 
ni ure-looking black horse. 
The wagon was loaded 
with bags of grains and the driver in attendance was 
represented as just in the act of letting down the 
bars at the side of the road to allow the team a pas¬ 
sage through to a little grist-mill that stood on a hill 
just at the right of the road. Horse, team, and dri¬ 
ver were cut from a smooth moss taken from oak 
wood. The moss in some way resembles india-rub¬ 
ber, one side quite black, the other a lighter shade. 
The mill was of stone like the house. A clothes-line 
was stretched across the yard, upon which were hung 
garments shaped with scissors from the petals of press¬ 
ed flowers of different colors, among which the most 
prominent was what was supposed to be a red flan¬ 
nel shirt, cut from the petal of a peony. The wash¬ 
erwoman stood beside her basket of birch bark, in 
the act of fastening some article to the line. I can 
remember now the exact poise of her head, which was 
made from one of the pressed stamens of a lobelia 
flower, and was a good representation. I covered 
the ground with different-colored mosses sprinkled 
with flowers, and over the whole scene flew a flock 
of blackbirds, cut from a leathery kind of black 
moss. When completed, I made a frame, covered 
it with beech-nuts, which fitted closely together on 
the surface, and, with a glass over the picture, it 
made a pretty and novel appearance. I sent it to 
an agricultural fair, and it took a premium.” 
“ Well, auntie, your description is quite exciting. 
I forthwith place myself under your tuition, and we 
will see what mosses will do as a winter decoration 
for my room.” 
The next day dawned bright and unusually beau¬ 
tiful for the season. When the sun had dried off the 
moisture, we started, Carrie, Annie, and myself, each 
equipped with a basket and an old case-knife. Our 
first discovery was a large rock covered with what 
I had heard termed rock-cresses, although I do, not 
know that to be the correct name. It is a kind of 
lichen, circular in form and each one perfect in itself, 
adhering closely to the rock. The color is two or three 
shades of rich drab, and, when woven into a piece ol 
ornamental work, resembles bead work. The gene¬ 
ral appearance is that of a rosette. We inserted our 
knives under the thin edges, and took them off flake 
by flake and laid them in our baskets. Over the 
rock stood an old oak-tree that might have been a 
centenarian. Its branches hung with bearded moss 
yards in length. This had its place in my mind’s 
programme, and we gathered an abundance of it; but 
before I had satisfied myself in quantity the girls 
had bounded down the bank to the brookside, and 
were calling me to come and gather the beautiful 
green moss that lay like patches of velvet along the 
bank. They were surprised when I rejected it, and 
turned to scrape some old dry moss from a fence that 
ran down to the water’s edge. 
“ Why, auntie, don’t you want the lovely velvet 
moss ?” was the surprised question. 
I explained that for the work I intended it would 
not do, but that a patch laid on a plate, and kept 
moist, was a very pretty winter ornament, and fur¬ 
nished a dish of standing green that was a delight; 
but nothing but dry mosses would do for manufactur¬ 
ing what I intended. 
“ Here,” said I, “ is the little green cup-moss, the 
bright coral and pink variety, and here is a bright fun¬ 
gus of a deep orange color growing on an old stump.” 
In an hour our baskets were filled with these wood¬ 
land trophies and we turned our feet homeward. 
“ Now to work,” was my first exclamation as we 
entered the house. “ First, Carrie, bring me the 
little round, light stand from the attic that grand¬ 
ma used so many years ago. We will ornament it 
and give it the most honored corner of the parlor.” 
Carrie laughed a little derisive kind of a laugh, but 
at the same time ripped away on the mission. A 
few moments later and we were busily at work gluing 
on moss in its varied shades round the edge of the 
stand, and down the standard of the same. Then we 
draped the long bearded moss around the edge so that 
it hung so low as nearly to conceal the standard. The 
centre of the top was also covered with moss laid on as 
smoothly as possible, and, unless one has tried this way 
of decorating, it can hardly be imagined what a pretty 
rural ornament can be made. Upon the stand we 
placed the globe of gold fish, and the girls fairly 
danced round it in admiration. A hanging-basket 
was next constructed for the window. Any com¬ 
mon basket will answer this purpose, covered with 
prettily-arranged moss, remembering to drape the 
bearded moss from the edge and give a tassel!ed 
appearance. Some handsome grasses were placed 
in this, and the briglit-hued leaves after they had 
been pressed and dried, directions for doing which 
may be found in the Cabinet, the never-failing 
source for instruction in manufacturing and decorat¬ 
ing in every line conceivable. Some of the grasses 
with fine drooping heads were wet and drawn through 
a plate of wheat flour, then shaken well and put with 
other varieties ; they have a pretty appearance. The 
basket was a success, and we next commenced on a 
picture-frame. We cut it from pasteboard, oval in 
shape, and covered it with our beautiful varieties of 
moss. It was a beauty. The frame required a 
colored picture, and so a bright bouquet was selected 
surrounded by a black mat. Next we made a brack¬ 
et of pasteboard, covered as before with moss; the 
rock-cresses working in admirably for the portion of 
the bracket we might call the lambrequin. We 
placed this just below the picture, and on it laid a 
humming-bird’s nest, and our moss work was com¬ 
pleted. 
I must say that the room, that looked pleasant be¬ 
fore, was now beautiful in its winter adorning, and 
our moss work never failed to call forth exclamations 
of admiration from every visitor. Try it and enjoy 
the beautiful effect. Maud. 
