Patchwork | Page 3

of Jacob and his wife induced Maria Metz to continue her
residence in the old homestead. She relieved the bride of all the brunt
of manual labor of the farm and in her capable way proved a worthy
sister to the new mistress of the old Metz place. When, several years
later, the gentle wife died and left Jacob the legacy of a helpless babe, it
was Maria Metz who took up the task of mothering the motherless
child. If she bungled at times in the performance of the mother's
unfinished task it was not from lack of love, for she loved the fair little
Phoebe with a passion that was almost abnormal, a passion which
burned the more fiercely because there was seldom any outlet in
demonstrative affection.
As soon as the child was old enough Aunt Maria began to teach her the
doctrines of the plain church and to warn her against the evils of vanity,
frivolity and all forms of worldliness.
Maria Metz was richly endowed with that admirable love of industry
which is characteristic of the Pennsylvania Dutch. In accordance with
her acceptance of the command, "Six days shalt thou labor," she swept,
scrubbed, and toiled from early morning to evening with Herculean
persistence. The farmhouse was spotless from cellar to attic, the
wooden walks and porches scrubbed clean and smooth. Flower beds,
vegetable gardens and lawns were kept neat and without weeds. Aunt
Maria was, as she expressed it, "not afraid of work." Naturally she
considered it her duty to teach little Phoebe to be industrious, to sew

neatly, to help with light tasks about the house and gardens.
Like many other good foster-mothers Maria Metz tried conscientiously
to care for the child's spiritual and physical well-being, but in spite of
her best endeavors there were times when she despaired of the
tremendous task she had undertaken. Phoebe's spirit tingled with the
divine, poetic appreciation of all things beautiful. A vivid imagination
carried the child into realms where the stolid aunt could not follow,
realms of whose existence the older woman never dreamed.
But what troubled Maria Metz most was the child's frank avowal of
vanity. Every new dress was a source of intense joy to Phoebe. Every
new ribbon for her hair, no matter how narrow and dull of color, sent
her face smiling. The golden hair, which sprang into long curls as Aunt
Maria combed it, was invariably braided into two thick, tight braids,
but there were always little wisps that curled about the ears and
forehead. These wisps were at once the woman's despair and the child's
freely expressed delight. However, through all the rigid discipline the
little girl retained her natural buoyancy of childhood, the spontaneous
interestedness, the cheerfulness and animation, which were a part of her
goodly heritage.
That June morning the world was changed suddenly from a dismal vale
of patchwork to a glorious garden of delight. She was still a child and
the promised walk to Greenwald changed the entire world for her.
She paused once in her sewing to look about the sitting-room. "Ach, I
vonder now why this room is so ugly to me to-day. I guess it's because
it's so pretty out. Why, mostly always I think this is a vonderful nice
room."
The sitting-room of the Metz farm was attractive in its old-fashioned
furnishing. It was large and well lighted. The gray rag carpet--woven
from rags sewed by Aunt Maria and Phoebe--was decorated with wide
stripes of green. Upon the carpet were spread numerous rugs, some
made of braided rags coiled into large circles, others were hooked rugs
gaily ornamented with birds and flowers and graceful scroll designs.
The low-backed chairs were painted dull green and each bore upon the

four inch panel of its back a hand-painted floral design. On the
haircloth sofa were several crazy-work cushions. Two deep
rocking-chairs matched the antique low-backed chairs. A
spindle-legged cherry table bore an old vase filled with pink and red
straw flowers. The large square table, covered with a red and green
cloth, held a glass lamp, the old Metz Bible, several hymn-books and
the papers read in that home,--a weekly religious paper, the weekly
town paper, and a 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