As soon as the doors was open, after wed all got through judgin and puttin on the ribbons, Milly went and hunted Sarah Jane up and told her that her quilt had the blue ribbon. They said the pore thing like to a fainted for joy. She turned right white, and had to lean up against the post for a while before she could git to the Floral Hall. I never shall forgit her face. It was worth a dozen premiums to me, and Milly, too. She jest stood lookin at that quilt and the blue ribbon on it, and her eyes was full o tears and her lips quiverin, and then she started off and brought the children in to look at Mammys quilt. She met Sam on the way out, and says she: Sam, what do you reckon? My quilt took the premium. And I believe in my soul Sam was as much pleased as Sarah Jane. He came saunterin up, tryin to look unconcerned, but anybody could see he was mighty well satisfied. It does a husband and wife a heap o good to be proud of each other, and I reckon that was the first time Sam ever had cause to be proud o pore Sarah Jane. Its my belief that he thought more o Sarah Jane all the rest o her life jest on account o that premium. Me and Sally Ann helped her pick it out. She had her choice betwixt a butter-dish and a cup, and she took the cup. Folks used to laugh and say that that cup was the only thing in Sarah Janes house that was kept clean and bright, and if it hadnt a been solid silver, shed a wore it all out rubbin it up. Sarah Jane died o pneumonia about three or four years after that, and the folks that nursed her said she wouldnt take a drink o water or a dose o medicine out o any cup but that. Theres some folks, child, that dont have to do anything but walk along and hold out their hands, and the premiums jest naturally fall into em; and theres others that work and strive the best they know how, and nothin ever seems to come to em; and I reckon nobody but the Lord and Sarah Jane knows how much happiness she got out o that cup. Im thankful she had that much pleasure before she died.
There was a quilt hanging over the foot of the bed that had about it a certain air of distinction. It was a solid mass of patchwork, composed of squares, parallelograms, and hexagons. The squares were of dark gray and red-brown, the hexagons were white, the parallelograms black and light gray. I felt sure that it had a history that set it apart from its ordinary fellows.
Where did you get the pattern, Aunt Jane? I asked. I never saw anything like it.
The old ladys eyes sparkled, and she laughed with pure pleasure.
Thats what everybody says, she exclaimed, jumping up and spreading the favored quilt over two laden chairs, where its merits became more apparent and striking. There aint another quilt like this in the State o Kentucky, or the world, for that matter. My granddaughter Henrietta, Mary Frances youngest child, brought me this pattern from Europe.
She spoke the words as one might say, from Paradise, or from Olympus[18], or from the Lost Atlantis[19]. Europe was evidently a name to conjure with, a country of mystery and romance unspeakable. I had seen many things from many lands beyond the sea, but a quilt pattern from Europe! Here at last was something new under the sun. In what shop of London or Paris were quilt patterns kept on sale for the American tourist?
You see, said Aunt Jane, Henrietta married a mighty rich man, and jest as good as hes rich, too, and they went to Europe on their bridal trip. When she come home she brought me the prettiest shawl you ever saw. She made me stand up and shut my eyes, and she put it on my shoulders and made me look in the lookin-glass, and then she says, I brought you a new quilt pattern, too, grandma, and I want you to piece one quilt by it and leave it to me when you die. And then she told me about goin to a town over yonder they call Florence[20], and how she went into a big church that was built hundreds o years before I was born. And she said the floor was made o little pieces o colored stone, all laid together in a pattern, and they called it mosaic. And says I, Honey, has it got anything to do with Moses and his law? You know the Commandments[21] was called the Mosaic Law[22], and was all on tables o stone. And Henrietta jest laughed, and says she: No, grandma; I dont believe it has. But, says she, the minute I stepped on that pavement I thought about you, and I drew this pattern off on a piece o paper and brought it all the way to Kentucky for you to make a quilt by. Henrietta bought the worsted for me, for she said it had to be jest the colors o that pavement over yonder, and I made it that very winter.
Aunt Jane was regarding the quilt with worshipful eyes, and it really was an effective combination of color and form.
Many a time while I was piecin that, she said, I thought about the man that laid the pavement in that old church, and wondered what his name was, and how he looked, and what hed think if he knew there was a old woman down here in Kentucky usin his patterns to make a bed quilt.
It was indeed a far cry from the Florentine artisan of centuries ago to this humble worker in calico and worsted, but between the two stretched a cord of sympathy that made them one the eternal aspiration after beauty.
Honey, said Aunt Jane, suddenly, did I ever show you my premiums?
And then, with pleasant excitement in her manner, she arose, fumbled in her deep pocket for an ancient bunch of keys, and unlocked a cupboard on one side of the fireplace. One by one she drew them out, unrolled the soft yellow tissue-paper that enfolded them, and ranged them in a stately line on the old cherry center-table nineteen sterling silver cups and goblets. Abram took some of em on his fine stock, and I took some of em on my quilts and salt-risin bread and cakes, she said, impressively.
To the artist his medals, to the soldier his cross of the Legion of Honor[23], and to Aunt Jane her silver cups. All the triumph of a humble life was symbolized in these shining things. They were simple and genuine as the days in which they were made. A few of them boasted a beaded edge or a golden lining, but no engraving or embossing marred their silver purity. On the bottom of each was the stamp: John B. Akin, Danville, Ky. There they stood,
Filled to the brim with precious memories, memories of the time when she and Abram had worked together in field or garden or home, and the County Fair brought to all a yearly opportunity to stand on the height of achievement and know somewhat the taste of Fames enchanted cup.
Theres one for every child and every grandchild, she said, quietly, as she began wrapping them in the silky paper, and storing them carefully away in the cupboard, there to rest until the day when children and grandchildren would claim their own, and the treasures of the dead would come forth from the darkness to stand as heirlooms on fashionable sideboards and damask[24]-covered tables.
Did you ever think, child, she said, presently, how much piecin a quilts like livin a life? And as for sermons, why, they aint no better sermon to me than a patchwork quilt, and the doctrines is right there a heap plainern they are in the catechism[25]. Many a time Ive set and listened to Parson Page preachin about predestination and free-will, and Ive said to myself, Well, I aint never been through Centre College up at Danville, but if I could jest git up in the pulpit with one of my quilts, I could make it a heap plainer to folks than parsons makin it with all his big words. You see, you start out with jest so much caliker; you dont go to the store and pick it out and buy it, but the neighbors will give you a piece here and a piece there, and youll have a piece left every time you cut out a dress, and you take jest what happens to come. And thats like predestination. But when it comes to the cuttin out, why, youre free to choose your own pattern. You can give the same kind o pieces to two persons, and onell make a nine-patch and onell make a wild-goose chase, and therell be two quilts made out o the same kind o pieces, and jest as different as they can be. And that is jest the way with livin. The Lord sends us the pieces, but we can cut em out and put em together pretty much to suit ourselves, and theres a heap more in the cuttin out and the sewin than there is in the caliker. The same sort o things comes into all lives, jest as the Apostle says, There hath no trouble taken you but is common to all men.
The same troublell come into two peoples lives, and onell take it and make one thing out of it, and the otherll make somethin entirely different. There was Mary Harris and Mandy Crawford. They both lost their husbands the same year; and Mandy set down and cried and worried and wondered what on earth she was goin to do, and the farm went to wrack and the children turned out bad, and she had to live with her son-in-law in her old age. But Mary, she got up and went to work, and made everybody about her work, too; and she managed the farm bettern it ever had been managed before, and the boys all come up steady, hard-workin men, and there wasnt a woman in the county better fixed up than Mary Harris. Things is predestined to come to us, honey, but were jest as free as air to make what we please out of em. And when it comes to puttin the pieces together, theres another time when were free. You dont trust to luck for the caliker to put your quilt together with; you go to the store and pick it out yourself, any color you like. Theres folks that always looks on the bright side and makes the best of everything, and thats like puttin your quilt together with blue or pink or white or some other pretty color; and theres folks that never see anything but the dark side, and always lookin for trouble, and treasurin it up after they git it, and theyre puttin their lives together with black, jest like you would put a quilt together with some dark, ugly color. You can spoil the prettiest quilt pieces that ever was made jest by puttin em together with the wrong color, and the best sort o life is miserable if you dont look at things right and think about em right.