herring.

THE QUILTING AND THE OLD VIRGINIA REEL.

The old fiddler took a fresh chew of long, green tobacco, and rosined
his bow. He glided off into "Hop light ladies, your cake's all dough,"
and then I heard the watch dog's honest bark. I heard the guinea's merry
"pot-rack." I heard a cock crow. I heard the din of happy voices in the
"big house" and the sizz and songs of boiling kettles in the kitchen.
It was an old time quilting--the May-day of the glorious ginger cake and
cider era of the American Republic; and the needle was mightier than the
sword. The pen of Jefferson announced to the world, the birth of the
child of the ages; the sword of Washington defended it in its cradle,
but it would have perished there had it not been for the brave women of
that day who plied the needle and made the quilts that warmed it, and
who nursed it and rocked it through the perils of its infancy, into
the strength of a giant. The quilt was attached to a quadrangular frame
suspended from the ceiling; and the good women sat around it and quilted
the live-long day, and were courted by the swains between stitches. At
sunset the quilt was always finished; a cat was thrown into the center
of it, and the happy maiden nearest to whom the escaping "kitty-puss"
passed was sure to be the first to marry.

Then followed the groaning supper table, surrounded by giggling
girls, bashful young men and gossipy old matrons who monopolized the
conversation. There was a warm and animated discussion among the old
ladies as to what was the most delightful product of the garden.
One old lady said, that so "fur" as she was "consarned," she preferred
the "per-turnip"--another preferred the "pertater"--another the
"cow-cumber," and still another voted "ingern" king. But suddenly a wise
looking old dame raised her spectacles and settled the whole question by
observing: "Ah, ladies, you may talk about yer per-turnips, and your
pertaters, and your passnips and other gyardin sass, but the sweetest
wedgetable that ever melted on these ol' gums o' mine is the 'possum."

At length the feast was ended, the old folks departed and the fun and
frolic began in earnest at the quilting. Old uncle "Ephraham" was an old
darkey in the neighborhood, distinguished for calling the figures for
all the dances, for miles and miles around. He was a tall, raw-boned,
angular old darkey with a very bald head, and a great deal of white in
his eyes. He had thick, heavy lips a