Chapter III: The Old Lady's Story

"BUT you had a pretty good Christmas tree, sir, after all," remarked Herbert.

The squire laughed. "Why, yes, my son, we could hardly have had a better, under the circumstances."

"How would you have liked that for an adventure, Ned?" asked Herbert, turning to Edward. "That was strange and unexpected enough to suit you!"

"I shouldn't like it at all," replied Ned, decidedly. "I like pleasant adventures."

"Unluckily, my dear, it is not easy to find adventures which are pleasant and dangerous at the same time," remarked the clergyman. "One is seldom able to enjoy the sublime and beautiful when one is cold, hungry, and in danger of breaking one's neck or being eaten up alive."

"But come, grandmother, it is your turn," said the squire. "Turn and turn-about, you know."

"O yes, do please, grandmamma!" chimed in May and Annie. "Your stories are so nice!"

"Very well, I will tell you a story," said the old lady, smiling; "but I must inform you beforehand that there are no adventures in it, though the incidents which I am about to relate occurred at an early date in the settlement of New York State. We will call it, if you please:

"MY AUNT DEAN'S CARPET."

"I must begin by telling you that all the main incidents of my story are quite true."

"That is nice," whispered Agatha. "I love true stories."

The old lady smiled, and went on as follows:

"My great-aunt married Mr. James Dean, and moved out to Westmoreland, Oneida county, when that part of the country was quite new. Mr. Dean had been the United States agent for the Oneida and Stockbridge Indians during the Revolutionary war, and it was mainly by his influence that those tribes were kept faithful to the American interests, while most of the tribes making up the great Iroquois nation went over to the British."

"Mr. Dean grew up among the Indians. When he was ten years old, his father took him into New York State and left him with the Oneidas, that he might acquire a thorough knowledge of their manners and language. It was a severe ordeal for the little white boy at first, as all the Indian lads maltreated him and he had no one to take his part. But after a time he was adopted by an old squaw, who gave him such efficient protection that he was quite secure from his persecutors. After a time a missionary, the Rev. Mr. Kirkland, represented to them the great advantage they would reap from having with them an educated white man who should be firmly attached to their interests, and this induced them to send young James to school at Dartmouth, where he received an admirable education."

"My uncle met with abundance of adventures among the Indians, but I will only relate one, which will illustrate Mr. Dean's firmness and presence of mind. At one time during the Revolution—I do not know the exact date—a deputation was sent from the Oneida Indians to their friends in Canada to try to induce them to espouse the American interests, or rather remain neutral, which was all that any one asked of them."

"Why was it that so many Indians went over to the side of the British during the war?" asked Frank.

"The reason was a very simple one," replied the scholar. "The British authorities offered a liberal bounty for scalps, and were in no wise particular as to the age or sex of the person from whom the scalp was taken. In a rare and very interesting book, called the 'Annals of Tryon County,' is given a full account of the matter, with a list or invoice of scalps, showing the number of infants' scalps, scalps of mothers, &c. These facts excited great indignation in England, and were spoken of in the House of Commons as they deserved; all of which did not prevent the same savage allies being employed again in the war of 1812."

"It was thought necessary," continued the old lady, "that James, or, as he was familiarly called, Jemmy Dean, should accompany the deputation, and he consented to do so, though at the imminent risk of his life; for there was not one of the hostile Indians who would not have given his best horse and ride to have the scalp of Jemmy Dean hanging at his belt, so much was he feared and hated by them. His hair and skin, however, were as dark as an Oneida's. He had a perfect acquaintance with their language and all their customs; and, disguised with paint and blanket, he accompanied his friends on their expedition, passing for a half-breed, of which there were a great many among the Indians. The ambassadors reached their destination in safety, and Jemmy, as one of the principal personages of the company, was admitted to share the lodge and blanket of the hostile chief."

"In the course of the night the chief entered into conversation with his guest, endeavoring to persuade him to employ his influence with the Oneidas in bringing them over to the British. He ascribed their backwardness to Jemmy Dean, that white villain, as he called him, who persuaded them into acting contrary to their true interests; and, becoming violently excited as he went on, he started up from his couch, drew his knife, and showed, by various significant gestures, what he would do to the said Jemmy, if he caught him. Little did he imagine that that very Jemmy Dean was lying by his side, with his hand on the haft of his knife, that he might be ready to defend his life if it became necessary. By degrees, the chief calmed down and went to sleep, but my uncle, as may be imagined, got very little rest. He had no fears of betraying himself, but the Canada Indians, in the true spirit of savage hospitality, had made their guests as drunk as possible; and he feared that some of his companions, under the influence of whiskey, might let out the secret, in which case his life would not have been worth an hour's purchase. However, the secret was kept, and Jemmy Dean and his companions next morning took their departure in safety."

"My uncle had many adventures during the war, but he passed through them all in safety. At the close of the struggle, he married my aunt, Miss Lydia Camp, and settled in the midst of his large landed property in Westmoreland, Oneida county. As it was his object to draw settlers round him, he disposed of a great deal of his land at a very cheap rate, and the consequence was that he had many neighbors so poor as often to be in want of the actual necessaries of life."

"My aunt Dean was a very beautiful woman, of remarkably decided character and strong intellect. She had received a fine education, and had a great fondness for books and study, while she cared little for fashion or display of any kind. Above all, she was a most diligent student of her Bible, and was given to interpreting the practical precepts of the Gospel more literally than is altogether the fashion nowadays. She was apt to give to him that asked of her, and from him that would borrow she turned not away. To do good and to distribute, she forgot not; and it may easily be guessed that, living in the midst of such a population, she had abundant opportunities of reducing her principles to practice."

"She was surgeon, physician, apothecary, and nurse to all the poor people for many miles round, and neither white man nor Indian ever appealed to her in vain. But it was not only to the body that she ministered. Many a sorrowful soul had been comforted by her, many an ignorant one enlightened, many a wanderer led into the way of peace. There was not a man, woman, or child in Westmoreland that did not love and revere Madam Dean, or that would not have done her any service in their power."

"My uncle's business as member of the Assembly and Indian Agent took him often to Albany, New York, and Philadelphia. On one occasion, as he was going down to New York, he proposed to his wife that, as their new house was completed and they could well afford the expense, he should purchase a carpet for the parlor and bring it home with him."

"'Well,' said my aunt, 'I should be very glad to have one. A carpet does more towards furnishing a parlor than anything else one can put into it, so far as comfort is concerned. It will make our room seem much more cosy and homelike when cold weather comes.'"

"My aunt glanced round with some complacency at the neatly finished and well-furnished apartment, and in her mind's eye saw the white boards already covered with a warm-colored carpet."

"It was thus settled that my uncle should bring home a carpet, and the color and quality were agreed upon. My uncle considered the matter as disposed of, but the next night, as they were seated by the fire (for it was at a time of year when a bright blaze was comfortable in the evening), my aunt adverted to the carpet again."

"'Mr. Dean,' said she, laying down her knitting for a moment, 'I have been thinking about that carpet again.'"

"'Well,' said my uncle, rather absently, and without looking up, for he had got hold of his favorite newspaper, only ten days old, and was absorbed in its perusal."

"'And I rather think I have changed my mind about it,' continued Madam Dean, altering a little the position of her knitting sheath."

"'Indeed!' said her husband, looking a little surprised, for my aunt was not apt to change her mind upon slight grounds. 'But perhaps you would prefer something else than the carpet?'"

"'I do not care anything about a carpet as a matter of display,' said my aunt, resuming her work. 'It is only as a matter of comfort that I want one at all.'"

"'Well, my dear, what then?'"

"'And a carpet spun and woven at home would be quite as comfortable, though not as handsome, as one brought from New York.'"

"'And not as expensive,' remarked my uncle; 'but you need not deny yourself on that account.'"

"'I was not considering the expense,' replied my aunt. 'What I thought was this: that by having my carpet spun and woven at home I could give employment and a means of subsistence to some of the poor women about us, whose families, I fear, will have hard work to get through the winter with any degree of comfort.'"

"'I thought there was some such idea at the bottom of the matter,' said my uncle, smiling in his turn. 'But please yourself, my dear. For my own part, I shall be as well satisfied with the homespun carpet as with the handsomest one over imported; and I fully agree with you as to the desirableness of finding employment for our poor neighbors. But how will you manage the matter?'"

"'I shall call them together and give out the wool,' replied Madam Dean. 'They can take it to their own homes, and spin and double and twist it, and when they bring it home, I can pay them either in money or anything else they may happen to want.'"

"Mr. Dean agreed with his wife that the plan was an excellent one, and, some days after his departure for New York, she proceeded to put it into execution. She prepared her stores of wool, and, calling her neighbors together, she explained to them that she wanted it spun, requesting each woman to take home such an amount of the wool as she thought she could manufacture within the appointed time."

"'What in the world are you going to do with so much yarn, madam Dean?' asked Bethiah Coffin, who had three little children, and a husband bed-ridden with rheumatism. 'I shouldn't think you could ever use it in your own family!'"

"It is not for cloth, but for a carpet,' explained my aunt. 'I am going to have a carpet made for the floor of my new parlor, which, you see, is quite large. I do not think there will be too much wool for the purpose.'"

"'A carpet! You don't say so!' said old Mrs. Davis. 'I haven't seen a carpeted floor since I came to York State. Old Madam Childs, in Pittsfield, where I came from, had carpets on her best rooms, but they were boughten ones, brought from England before the war.'"

"'All this nice wool for a carpet, just to cover the floor and be walked on!' said Bethiah, holding up her hands. 'What a waste!'"

"'Do you think so?' asked my aunt, smiling.

"'Well, it ain't my business, I know,' replied Bethiah, blushing; 'but if your blankets were as thin as mine, Madam Dean, you might think so too. You see, they were not new when I had 'em. They were some that my mother-in-law gave me—my own folks were all killed down to Wyoming and our house burned—and he has been sick so much that they have come to a great deal of wear. I'm afraid they won't be of much use this winter, for our house is dreadful cold!'"

"'My blankets are good enough,' said Mrs. Givens. 'I had three pairs of new ones when I was married. But I haven't a yard of flannel in the house except what this baby has on, and that is none of the thickest. How the others are to keep warm I don't know, unless I keep them in bed night and day.'"

"'I thought you had some sheep, Mrs. Givens,' observed my aunt."

"'We did have about a dozen that we drove all the way from Massachusetts, but the painters * killed them all but two last spring, and two sheep don't go far towards clothing such a family as mine!'"

"'Very true,' said my aunt. 'You have a large family, Mrs. Givens.'"

* Panthers, or cougars.

"'Seven boys, and all fir—s—t-rate ones, though I say it that shouldn't,' replied Mrs. Givens, with motherly pride and a look of mingled love and admiration at number seven—a stout, rosy little tow-head of ten months old, who sat on the floor contentedly sucking his thumb."

"'That is a good capital with which to begin a new country,' remarked my aunt."

"'That's a fact, Madam Dean. It was our boys more than anything else that brought us out here. But Jacob, the eldest, is only twelve this fall, and he has been having the ague pretty badly. But I don't feel to complain, for it is the first sickness of any account we have ever had among them.'"

"'I am sure you ought to be thankful, Mrs. Givens,' said poor Bethiah, with a sigh. 'I know one ought not to murmur, but I do feel like it, when I look at my poor husband, helpless on his back, and no one but me to do anything. If it wasn't for Madam Dean and the neighbors, I don't know what would become of us. And when I think how we are to get through this winter, I feel as if I should like to curl up in a hollow log like the bears, and not come out till spring.'"

"'Oh, you mustn't be downhearted, Bethiah!' said old Mrs. Davis, kindly. 'My sons, David and Jonathan, calculate to clear that lower piece of land for you this winter, and get it into corn in the spring. It is one great comfort of a new country that nobody need want for firewood.'"

"And my husband said only last night that he had laid out to kill your pigs and ft up your house a little before winter,' said Mrs. Barker. 'He's a master hand at such jobs. But about the wool, Madam Dean?'"

"'I have been thinking,' said my aunt, who had been standing over the bundles of wool apparently in deep meditation while this conversation was going on—'I have been thinking that I would about as soon have a rag-carpet, after all.'"

"'A rag-carpet is very comfortable,' remarked Mrs. Davis; 'and if you have real nice rags, I don't know but it is as handsome as any other, unless you come to a regular English or Turkey carpet.'"

"'I have abundance of rags, if they were only ready,' continued Mrs. Dean. 'There are all Mr. Dean's old coats and cloaks, and a great deal more besides. Suppose, instead of the wool, you take home the old clothes, and cut and sew them into carpet-rags for me. Then when you bring them home, I will let you have the wool, and you can make it into blankets or whatever else you want.'"

"The proposal was received with great approbation, and my aunt felt fully rewarded for any sacrifice she might have made when she marked the glances of satisfaction which the poor women cast at the piles of wool, each probably calculating how many yards of cloth or flannel would come to her share."

"'When shall we come for the rags?' asked Bethiah Coffin."

"'Why, let me see. This is Friday. You may come for the rags on Monday next, and I hope you will all make your calculations to stay to supper.'"

"The company departed, and Madam Dean betook herself to her store-room to see if she could find a pair of thick blankets and a coverlet for Bethiah Coffin; and, having succeeded in her search, she repaired to her garret and other repositories of cast-off garments to get together the materials for her carpet-rags. She soon collected a large pile of old coats, military and civil, cloaks, waistcoats, petticoats, and other articles of wearing apparel, enough to clothe a regiment, besides a scarlet cloak and riding-habit of her own, which she calculated would serve to variegate and enliven her carpet very nicely.

"Monday came, and with it all the neighboring matrons, some with babies and some without, but all dressed in their best, to do honor to Madam Dean's tea-party. Mrs. Barker wore an English print gown which had been her mother's very best before the Revolution, and from the amplitude of skirts in those days was easily made over into some resemblance to the prevailing fashion. But old Mrs. Davis quite eclipsed her with a purple damask gown and a real thread lace on the border of her cap. Poor Bethiah had nothing better for the occasion than a home-made pressed flannel, which, though far from new, was perfectly neat and whole, and looked very respectable along with her nice homespun lawn kerchief and apron."

"My aunt possessed that happy style of manner which sets all sorts of people at their ease at once and draws out to view the best side of everybody. Though highly cultivated herself, she found no difficulty in entering cordially and easily into conversation with her simple neighbors, merely because she took a sincere interest in them. The afternoon passed away pleasantly in lively and social chat, and tea was served at an early hour, that the visitors might be able to return home in time to attend to the milk and do other necessary 'chores' about house. After tea was over, the visitors were conducted into my aunt's bedroom, where were deposited the old clothes which had been destined for conversion into a new carpet."

"'What a beautiful habit!' said Bethiah Coffin, taking up the scarlet riding-habit before mentioned. 'I guess, Madam Dean, you used to wear this when you were slimmer than you are now.'"

"'You are right,' replied my aunt, smiling, and perhaps sighing a little. 'I used to wear that habit when I was quite a young girl.'"

"'It seems almost a pity to cut it into rags,' continued Bethiah, holding the skirt up to the light. 'There is not a hole in it, and these stains might easily be cut out in making it over. If you had a little girl, you might make it over into a nice frock and cloak for her.'"

"'True,' said my aunt; 'but I have no children, you know.'"

"'I rather guess you were thinking of your own little girls, Bethiah,' said plain-spoken old Mrs. Davis."

"Bethiah blushed almost as red as the cloth she hold, but made no reply."

"'I can't blame her if she was,' said Mrs. Givens. 'I was just thinking of about the same thing—how nicely I could make over these breeches for my Jacob. The poor boy's knees have been out so long that he is ashamed to show himself. By the way, Madam Dean, is it really true what the children say, that we are to have a minister at last?'"

"'I am happy to say it is quite true,' replied my aunt. 'Mr. Dean has found an excellent young gentleman who is willing to come among us and preach the Gospel. We shall have service next Sunday in the schoolhouse, and I hope you will all come and bring your children.'"

"'I can't bring mine till they are fixed up a little,' replied Mrs. Givens. 'There is not one of them fit to be seen.'"

"Nor I!' said Bethiah. 'I don't know but it is wrong, but I can't bear the thought of having my girls go to church in rags.'"

"Two or three others excused themselves on the same ground. My aunt knew well that these were not mere empty apologies, for she was in the habit of going about among her neighbors a great deal, and was well acquainted with their circumstances. She excused herself for a few minutes and slipped into the next room, from which she could overhear the conversation which went on over the cast-off garments, as they were taken up and examined one by one."

"'Just see this flannel petticoat!' said Bethiah, holding up the article in question. 'It is worn a little round the bottom and broken in the plaits, but by cutting it off and binding it would be as good as new and keep my Polly warm all winter.'"

"'And look at this cloak!' said another. 'I could cut it into a real nice suit of clothes for my Sam, as good as new. Well, I hope I shall not be guilty of breaking the tenth commandment, but I'm pretty sure I shall, if I have to cut such a cloak as that into carpet-rags while my boy has hardly clothes to cover him!'"

"'I wouldn't care so much about it if it wasn't for the minister's coming,' said Mrs. Givens; 'but I always felt it would be a privilege to go to church and take my children once more. I've felt since we moved out here as if I hadn't valued the means of grace half enough when I had them.'"

"'I guess it is pretty much so with all sorts of privileges,' said Bethiah Coffin. 'I am sure it has been so with me. I never hardly thought in old times of being thankful that I was warm and well, and had plenty to eat and wear. All such things seemed to come of themselves, as a matter of course.' She took up the riding-habit as she spoke, and after another examination, she laid it down and turned away with her eyes full of tears."

"'Don't be downhearted, Bethiah! There's a good time coming!' said old Mrs. Davis, kindly.

"'In heaven! I hope there is, for I'm tired of waiting for it in this world, that's a fact!' sobbed poor Bethiah. 'Things seem to grow worse and worse, and I don't feel as if I could stand it much longer.'"

"By this time my aunt had quite made up her mind as to her course of action, and after waiting a few moments for Bethiah to compose herself, she returned to the room once more."

"'I think I have found out the best way of managing the matter,' said she, perhaps with a tremor in her voice. 'You shall take these clothes home and make them up for your own children. Then you shall take their old clothes, wash them clean, cut and sew them into carpet-rags, and I will exchange the wool for them, as I proposed at first.'"

"The women looked at one another without speaking for a minute or so. Then Mrs. Givens broke the silence:"

"'I declare, Madam Dean, I never did see any one like you in all my born days!' said she. 'I guess, if anybody in this world has treasure laid up in heaven, you will come into a fortune by-and-by. But it is a shame to let you rob yourself so. Our old rags will not make nearly so nice a carpet as these. I am afraid it will be all in lumps and bunches.'"

"'Never mind,' said my aunt. 'I shall only have to sweep the cleaner. But remember,' she added, smiling, 'I shall expect to see all these clothes at the schoolhouse when the minister comes.'"

"The next Sunday after the minister's arrival divine service was held in the school-room, and Madam Dean had the satisfaction of seeing all the children, except such as were kept at home to tend baby or for some other necessary service, in their places; all, no doubt, fully sensible of their new clothes. Bethiah's little girls made quite a smart appearance in their new red cloaks, and the poor woman herself looked more cheerful than she had done for many a long day."

"In due process of time, the carpet was made and sent home. It was rather lumpy, that could not be denied, and the colors were neither greatly varied nor very brilliant; though Mrs. Davis had taken pains to color an old woollen sheet of her own to make some red stripes. But it served the purpose of keeping my aunt's feet warm remarkably well; nor was my uncle ever heard to complain of it, though he looked rather surprised when he first saw it on the floor."

"In the course of time, as matters improved in the country, the rag-carpet was exchanged for one of foreign manufacture, but my uncle always took great delight in relating the story of his wife's rag-carpet."