MARY AND ELIZABETH VISIT SADIE SINGMASTER.
Farmer Landis, happening to mention at the breakfast table his
intention of driving over to the "Ax Handle Factory" to obtain wood
ashes to use as a fertilizer, his wife remarked, "Why not take Mary
with you, John? She can stop at Singmaster's with a basket of carpet
rags for Sadie. I've been wanting to send them over for some time."
Turning to Mary, she said: "Poor little, crippled Sadie! On account of
a fall, which injured her spine, when a small child, she has been
unable to walk for years. She cuts and sews carpet rags, given her by
friends and neighbors, and from their sale to a carpet weaver in a
near-by town, helps her widowed mother eke out her small income."
"I'd love to go see her," said Mary. Elizabeth Schmidt also expressed
her willingness to go, when asked, saying: "I am positive mother will
add her contribution to the carpet rags for Sadie, I do pity her so
very much."
"Yes," said Mary's Aunt, "she is poor and proud. She will not accept
charity, so we persuade her to take carpet rags, as we have more than
we can possibly use."
On reaching the Singmaster cottage, the girls alighted with their
well-filled baskets, Mary's Uncle driving on to the "Ax Handle
Factory," promising to call for the girls on his return. The sad,
brown eyes of Sadie, too large for her pinched, sallow face, shone
with pleasure at sight of the two young girls so near her own age, and
she smiled her delight on examining the numerous bright-colored
patches brought by them. Thinking the pleasure she so plainly showed
might appear childish to the two girls, she explained: "I do get so
dreadfully tired sewing together so many dull homely rags. I shall
enjoy making balls of these pretty, bright colors."
"Sadie," Mary inquired, "will you think me inquisitive should I ask
what the carpet weaver pays you for the rags when you have sewed and
wound them into balls?"
"Certainly not," replied Sadie. "Four cents a pound is what he pays
me. It takes two of these balls to make a pound," and she held up a
ball she had just finished winding.
"Is _that all_ you get?" exclaimed Elizabeth.
"Have you ever made rag rugs?" inquired Mary.
"No, I have never even seen one. Are they anything like braided mats?"
"Yes, they are somewhat similar to them, but I crochet mine and think
them prettier. I have made several, with Aunt Sarah's assistance. I'll
come over and teach you to make them one of these days, should you
care to learn, and I'm positive you will find ready sale for them. In
fact, I've several friends in the city who have admired the ones I
have, and would like to buy rugs for the Colonial rooms they are
furnishing. Sadie, can you crochet?"
"Oh, yes. I can do the plain stitch very well."
"That is all that will be necessary. You will become very much
interested in inventing new designs, it is very fascinating work, and
it will be more remunerative than sewing carpet rags. Aunt Sarah will
send you more carpet rags if you require them, and should you wish
dull colors of blue or pink, a small package of dye will transform
white or light-colored rags into any desired shade, to match the
furnishings of different rooms. I think the crocheted rugs much
prettier than the braided ones, which are so popular in the 'Nutting'
pictures, and the same pretty shades may be used when rugs are
crocheted."
When Farmer Landis came for the girls, he found them too busily
engaged talking to hear his knock at the door. During the drive home
Mary could think and talk of nothing but Sadie Singmaster, and the
rugs she had promised to teach her to make at an early day. Elizabeth,
scarcely less enthusiastic, said: "I've a lot of old things I'll give
her to cut up for carpet rags."
Reaching home, Mary could scarcely wait an opportunity to tell Aunt
Sarah all her plans for Sadie's betterment. When she finally did tell
her Aunt, she smiled and said: "Mary, I'm not surprised. You are
always planning to do a kind act for some one. You remind me of the
lines, 'If I Can Live,' by Helen Hunt Jackson." And she repeated the
following for Mary:
IF I CAN LIVE.
If I can live
To make some pale face brighter and to give
A second luster to some tear-dimmed eye,
Or e'en impart
One throb of comfort to an aching heart,
Or cheer some wayworn soul in passing by;
If I can lend
A strong hand to the fallen, or defend
The right against a single envious strain,
My life, though bare,
Perhaps, of much that seemeth dear and fair
To us of earth, will not have been in vain.
The purest joy,
Most near to heaven, far from earth's alloy,
Is bidding cloud give way to sun and shine;
And 'twill be well
If on that day of days the angels tell
Of me, she did her best for one of Thine.