nister's Wooing," which ran first as a
serial in the _Atlantic Monthly_ in 1859, she describes a quilting
supposed to have been given about the year 1800. Here we can view at
close range a real old-fashioned quilting, and gain some insight into
its various incidents of sociability and gossip, typical of an early
New England seafaring village, as set forth in Mrs. Stowe's inimitable
style:

"By two o'clock a goodly company began to assemble. Mrs. Deacon
Twitchel arrived, soft, pillowy, and plaintive as ever, accompanied by
Cerinthy Ann, a comely damsel, tall and trim, with a bright black eye
and a most vigorous and determined style of movement. Good Mrs. Jones,
broad, expansive, and solid, having vegetated tranquilly on in the
cabbage garden of the virtues since three years ago, when she graced
our tea party, was now as well preserved as ever, and brought some
fresh butter, a tin pail of cream, and a loaf of cake made after a new
Philadelphia receipt. The tall, spare, angular figure of Mrs. Simeon
Brown alone was wanting; but she patronized Mrs. Scudder no more, and
tossed her head with a becoming pride when her name was mentioned.

"The quilt pattern was gloriously drawn in oak leaves, done in indigo;
and soon all the company, young and old, were passing busy fingers
over it, and conversation went on briskly.

"Madame de Frontignac, we must not forget to say, had entered with
hearty abandon into the spirit of the day. She had dressed the tall
china vases on the mantelpiece, and, departing from the usual rule of
an equal mixture of roses and asparagus bushes, had constructed two
quaint and graceful bouquets where garden flowers were mingled with
drooping grasses and trailing wild vines, forming a graceful
combination which excited the surprise of all who saw it.

"'It's the very first time in my life that I ever saw grass put into a
flower pot,' said Miss Prissy, 'but I must say it looks as handsome as
a picture. Mary, I must say,' she added, in an aside, 'I think that
Madame de Frontignac is the sweetest dressing and appearing creature I
ever saw; she don't dress up nor put on airs, but she seems to see in
a minute how things ought to go; and if it's only a bit of grass, or
leaf, or wild vine, that she puts in her hair, why, it seems to come
just right. I should like to make her a dress, for I know she would
understand my fit; do speak to her, Mary, in case she should want a
dress fitted here, to let me try it.'