, I ain't havin' any fair; I'm jest givin' my quilts
their spring airin'. Twice a year I put 'em out in the sun and wind;
and this mornin' the air smelt so sweet, I thought it was a good
chance to freshen 'em up for the summer. It's about time to take 'em
in now."

She began to fold the quilts and lay them over her arm, and I did the
same. Back and forth we went from the clothes-line to the house, and
from the house to the clothes-line, until the quilts were safely
housed from the coming dewfall and piled on every available chair in
the front room. I looked at them in sheer amazement. There seemed to
be every pattern that the ingenuity of woman could devise and the
industry of woman put together,--"four-patches," "nine-patches,"
"log-cabins," "wild-goose chases," "rising suns," hexagons, diamonds,
and only Aunt Jane knows what else. As for color, a Sandwich Islander
would have danced with joy at the sight of those reds, purples,
yellows, and greens.

"Did you really make all these quilts, Aunt Jane?" I asked
wonderingly.

Aunt Jane's eyes sparkled with pride.

"Every stitch of 'em, child," she said, "except the quiltin'. The
neighbors used to come in and help some with that. I've heard folks
say that piecin' quilts was nothin' but a waste o' time, but that
ain't always so. They used to say that Sarah Jane Mitchell would set
down right after breakfast and piece till it was time to git dinner,
and then set and piece till she had to git supper, and then piece by
candle-light till she fell asleep in her cheer.

"I ricollect goin' over there one day, and Sarah Jane was gittin'
dinner in a big hurry, for Sam had to go to town with some cattle,
and there was a big basket o' quilt pieces in the middle o' the
kitchen floor, and the house lookin' like a pigpen, and the children
runnin' around half naked. And Sam he laughed, and says he, 'Aunt
Jane, if we could wear quilts and eat quilts we'd be the richest
people in the country.' Sam was the best-natured man that ever was, or
he couldn't 'a' put up with Sarah Jane's shiftless ways. Hannah
Crawford said she sent Sarah Jane a bundle o' caliker once by Sam, and
Sam always declared he lost it. But Uncle Jim Matthews said he was
ridin' along the road jest behind Sam, and he saw Sam throw it into
the creek jest as he got on the bridge. I never blamed Sam a bit if he
did.

"But there never was any time wasted on my quilts, child. I can look
at every one of 'em with a clear cons