on you sure
as you do." That could be proved in most any community in the Blue
Ridge.

Yards upon yards of lace Aunt Emmie crocheted, the Clover Leaf pattern,
the Sea Shell, Acorn, the Rose, and if a bride-to-be had no silver, the
lacemaker was content to take in exchange a pat of butter, eggs, or
well-cured ham. Her delight was in the work itself.

The thrifty woman of the mountains takes great pride in her quilts; not
only does she strive to excel her neighbor in the variety of patterns
but in the number as well. On a bright summer day she brings them out of
cupboard and presses, and hangs them on the picket fence to sun. She is
pleased when a passerby stops to admire, and especially so if it be a
young miss. The older woman recognizes the motive behind the question,
"What is this pattern?" "Is this easy to piece?" The older woman knows
the young miss has marrying in her head and goes to great lengths to
explain. "Now this is Compass and Nine Patch and it's easiest of any to
put together. This is Grandmother's Flower Garden--it's a lot of little
bitsy pieces, you see, and a heap of different colors and it's most
powerful tejous to put together. This is Double Wedding Ring, this Irish
Chain"--she names one after another--"this is Neck Tie, and this in the
fair blue and white is Dove in the Window."

The quiltmaker is even more pleased when the young miss comes to take
the day and she has the proud privilege of starting John's or Tom's
future wife on her very first quilt. It is an occasion of merriment when
the quilt is finally finished and taken out of the frames after many a
pleasant quilting bee. Then, at the urging of one of the older women,
two girls shake a cat on the new quilt. The one toward whom the cat
jumps will be married first, they believe. Some brides believe too that
by going to the oldest woman in the community to set up the quilt for
their marriage bed they will be insured long life and joy. There are
lovelorn maidens so eager to peer into the future they will even help a
neighbor on wash day. Two girls will wring a dripping quilt by twisting
it in rope fashion. The one toward whom the end curls up will be first
to rock the cradle.

4. TRADITION

PHILOMEL WHIFFET'S SINGING SCHOOL

Philomel Whiffet was dim of eye and sparse of beard. A little white
fringe framed his wrinkled face and numbered indeed were the hairs of
his foretop. Trudging u