The Reist farmhouse, always a busy place, was soon rivaling the

proverbial beehive. Mrs. Reist, to whom sentiment was ever a vital,

holy thing, to be treasured and clung to throughout the years, had long

ago, in Amanda's childhood, begun the preparation for the time of the

girl's marriage. After the fashion of olden times the mother had begun

the filling of a Hope Chest for her girl. Just as she instilled into

the youthful mind the homely old-fashioned virtues of honesty,

truthfulness and reverence for holy things which made Amanda, as she

stood on the threshold of a new life, so richly dowered in spiritual

and moral acquisitions, so had the mother laid away in the big wooden

chest fine linens, useful and beautiful and symbolic of the worth of

the bride whose home they were destined to enrich.

But in addition to the precious contents of the Hope Chest many things

were needed for the dowry of the daughter of a prosperous Lancaster

County family. So the evenings and Saturdays of that year became busy

ones for Amanda. Millie helped with much of the plainer sewing and Mrs.

Reist's exquisite tiny stitches enhanced many of the garments.

"Poor Aunt Rebecca," Amanda said one day, "how we miss her now!"

"Yes, ain't?" agreed Millie. "For all her scoldin' she was a good help

still. If she was livin' yet she'd fuss about all the sewin' you're

doin' to get married but she'd pitch right in and help do it."

Philip offered to pull basting threads, but his generosity was not

appreciated. "Go on," Millie told him, "you'd be more bother than

you're worth! Next you'd be pullin' out the sewin'!" He was frequently

chased from the room because of his inappropriate remarks concerning

the trousseau or his declaration that Amanda was spending all the

family wealth by her reckless substitution of silk for muslin.

"You keep quiet," Millie often reproved him. "I guess Amanda dare have

what she wants if your mom says so. If she wants them things she calls

cammysoles made out of silk let her have 'em. She's gettin' married

only once."

"How do you know?" he asked teasingly. "Say, Millie, I thought a

camisole is a dish you make rice pudding in."

"Ach, that shows you don't know everything yet, even if you do go to

Lancaster to school!" And he was driven from the room in laughing

defeat.

It is usually conceded that to the prospective bride belongs the

privilege of naming the day of her marriage, but it seemed to Amanda

that Millie and Philip had as much to do with it as she. Each one had a

favorite month. Phil's suggestion finally decided the month. "Sis,

you're so keen about flowers, why don't you make it a spring wedding?

About cherry blossom time would be the thing."




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024