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I
HAVE a sort o' book at home, that you would never
guess
Contained so much to dwell upon--a summer-day caress; And if you care to take the time, to trace the little seams, You then may read it as it is, with joyous history dreams. When we were young long years ago and went to district school, We sought the little keepsakes out and kept them, as a rule, And called them treasures, as they were, a sort o' children's play Which proved a book-mark to the days which I recall to-day; This little patch, Virginia Ames so kindly gave to me; She had a dress of this same cloth, and I can plainly see How sweet she looked that summer's day, when to the class she came; And when I see this patchwork quilt, I think of her again. You see the one with silken threads? Well, it was Minnie Gay Who took a little stroll with me and in her childish way Said, "Jennie, when you make a quilt and married you may be Cut this to represent a heart, sew in, and think of me." Our thimble parties I recall, and how we looked ahead Unto the time when city life we might enjoy instead Of doing, oh, so many things "as busy as a bee"! In all our bonnets, patchwork quilts, and why not, even me? Each piece herein, a bookmark is, the story I may read; It takes me back to mornings fair, on which my soul may feed And life may glow with all the joys, in my subconscious brain, Which with the treasures I look o'er, will make me young again. |