well-known farm journal. A
low walnut organ which Phoebe's mother brought to the farm and a tall
walnut grandfather clock, the most cherished heirloom of the Metz
family, occupied places of honor in the room. Not a single article of
modern design could be found in the entire room, yet it was an
interesting and habitable place. Most of the Metz furniture had stood in
the old homestead for several generations and so long as any piece
served its purpose and continued to look respectable Aunt Maria would
have considered it gross extravagance, even a sacrilege, to discard it
for one of newer design. She was satisfied with her house, her brother
Jacob was well pleased with the way she kept it--it never occurred to
her that Phoebe might ever desire new things, and least of all did she
dream that the girl sometimes spent an interesting hour refurnishing, in
imagination, the same old sitting-room.

"Yes," Phoebe was saying to herself, "sometimes this room is vonderful
to me. Only I wished the organ was a piano, like the one Mary Warner got
to play on. But, ach, I must hurry once and make this patch done. Funny
thing patchin' is, cuttin' up big pieces of good calico in little ones
and then sewin' them up in big ones again! I don't like it"--she spoke
very softly for she knew her aunt disapproved of the habit of talking to
one's self--"I don't like patchin' and I for certain don't like red and
green quilts! I got one on my bed now and it hurts my eyes still in the
morning when I get awake. I'd like a pretty blue and white one for my
bed. Mebbe Aunt Maria will leave me make one when I get this one sewed.
But now my patch is done and I dare to go to Greenwald. That's a
vonderful nice walk."

A moment later she stood again in the big kitchen.

"See," she said, "now I got them all done. And little stitches, too, so
nobody won't catch their toes in 'em when they sleep, like you used to
tell me still when I first begun to sew."

The woman smiled. "Now you're a good girl, Phoebe. Put your patches away
nice and you dare go to Greenwald."

"Where all shall I go?"

"Go first to Granny Hogendobler; that's right on the way to the store.
You ask her to come out to-morrow morning early if she wants to help
with the berries."

"Dare I stay a little?"

"If you want. But don't you go bringin' any more slips of flowers to
plant or any seeds. The flower beds are that full now abody can hardly
get in to weed 'em still."

"All right, I wo