August 29, 1999

Uninvited Guest Routs Aunt Ruby's Quilting Bee

If there is anything that will poop a party, a polecat is it.

Back in the "olden days" -- as my children term my boyhood home in Boot Heel, Missouri -- quilting bees were popular social events. One of them put on by my Aunt Ruby is still a topic of conversation 75 years later.

For warmth, comfort and beauty there is nothing to compare with hand-made quilts. They are works of art when properly constructed, and a haven of security when mated with a feather bed.

Central heating was yet to be invented, and electric blankets were beyond comprehension. Good bedding was essential to a happy home. Ah, what ecstasy on a winter night to snuggle into a plump feather tick -- hot-water bottle or a “baked” brick at your feet, and over all a Yellow Rose of Texas quilt!

A housewife was judged by the patterns of her quilts. Aunt Ruby was famous for the Sun Bonnet Girl design. Other ladies doted on Wedding Ring, Lone Star, Dresden Plate, Log Cabin, Tulip or Bow Tie -- just to mention a few. There were hundreds of designs coveted like baseball cards.

“Crazy" quilts had neither pattern nor specific color, being "pieced" together from odds and ends of cloth unsuitable for serious quilting – usually salvaged from old, woolen suits. These usually had flour-sack backing, cotton batting and widely spaced stitching. They were relegated to boys' beds where rough usage was expected – or for an extra throw on the coldest nights.

Every woman eventually created a Friendship quilt. These consisted of pieces distributed to friends who embroidered their names and returned to the owner for piecing together.

It was held that virgins who slept for the first time under a new quilt would dream of the man they would marry. Girls vied for the privilege of “baptizing” a new quilt.

Miss Kay, the maiden lady of Aunt Ruby’s circle, always was the first to sleep under her own new quilts. However, magic never struck. She was as homely as a rail fence but a good cook of amiable disposition. Folks wondered if her continued bachelorette condition was due to a deficiency of virginity or her dreaming apparatus. Nevertheless, she was a prodigious quilter.

Women with creative bent strived for new designs that might bring recognition at the county fair and mention in the weekly “Campbell Citizen.”

Prize quilts were never slept under regularly. They were brought out from the cedar chest when company came and placed on the best beds "for show."

Building a Quilt

The tedious work of building a quilt was sewing together individual, geometric parts of the "top piece" into the design desired. This was accomplished by the quilt’s creator, usually assisted by other women of a household in the evenings after chores were done.

Evening was a period of relaxation when the family was gathered around a kerosene lamp discussing events of the day and telling stories. There was no radio or television to substitute for conversation.

When daughters got married and took their quilts as dowry, grandmothers kept piecing alone until they had a heirloom for each grandchild. If there weren’t too many grandkids, each would wind up with a pair of prize quilts.

The foundation of a quilt was a “liner” which held fluffy "batting" onto a “backing” until the top piece was “quilted” on." It is the latter operation that friends were invited to help complete.

Backings usually were calico of bright color. Preferred batting was duck down, but chicken down was acceptable. Cotton was used only for crazy quilts -- or if you lived in town and didn’t keep farm fowls.

Aunt Ruby usually made two or three quilts a year. Output for most others was one a year. Women kept track of important events by their annual quilt: "I pieced the Peacock the year Mary was born," or, "Sonny had the measles the year I made my Sunburst."

While piecing was a solo effort, quilting was shared by friends after mid-day dinner of fried chicken and buttermilk biscuits. In the summer, when daylight was longer, quilters often got together in the late afternoon and gabbed until evening.

This was no problem, because suppers for families at home customarily were leftovers from mid-day dinner -- kept on dining tables for this purpose and covered with a cloth to thwart flies.

Evening quilting refreshment would be something special -- like lemonade and chocolate cake with divinity frosting and pecans. Many farms had “birthday” pecan trees planted as personal memorials on the births of children. Original homesteads might have a small grove of such trees.

To complete a quilt, its base was rolled up and pulled out over a wood frame as sewing progressed. Straight chairs supported the frame corners. Four or five women could sit around the quilting frame and stitch in the pattern while exchanging gossip of the day.

A party of good quilters could finish a design in one evening if the pattern was simple --- longer if the pattern was an intricate one like Flower Garden or Pinwheels.

Aunt Ruby's quilting bees were well attended because she thereby was obliged to return the favor. As a meticulous seamstress, and three-time county fair winner, she was the acknowledged champion in those parts.

Uninvited Guest

On the occasion that has become memorable, Aunt Ruby had a two-quilt bee underway as a fund-raiser for the Order of Eastern Star. The design, of course, was Star Of The East. These brought $12 each at the annual Grand Matron's inspection – a goodly sum those days.

It was a balmy June evening. Quilting frames were set up on the porch to better enjoy the fine breeze. Several times, Mrs. Cashdollar felt a light tickle on her leg.

She brushed it off a time or two, but as it continued she bent under the quilt to see what manner of bug was so persistent.

She raised up slowly, face pale, eyes large, lips trembling. "Th, th, there's a pole cat under here!"

Ten quilters stifled the urge to scream and/or flee precipitously. Yet, all realized that noise and commotion would bring odoriferous disaster. Cautiously Aunt Ruby peeked to confirm so unlikely a possibility. Ten thousand horrors! Too true! A black creature, with a white stripe down its back, was nonchalantly sniffing for cake crumbs. Having no predators, skunks often make themselves at home around humans. "Now, ladies," said Aunt Ruby in measured tones, "as I point to you, get up easy and walk very slowly down the steps."

In deathly silence, Aunt Ruby pointed. One by one, ladies tiptoed away. Only Mrs. Cashdollar's white knuckles gripping the arms of her chair signaled the tension. Seven women had crept to safety when the eighth, upon rising, tipped over her chair. The sudden crash was too much for Mrs. Cashdollar's taut nerves. Her yelp was piercing, her lurch sudden.

The pole cat responded as Mother Nature ordains for annoyed skunks.

Within a period of time thereafter -- too short to measure by scientific instruments -- three ladies of Eastern Star raced each other to the backyard pump – shedding clothing at each stride.

They reached the pump in a dead heat -- naked as jay birds and clawing for air. Frantically they soaped and lathered as they attempted to pump the well dry.

Uncle Virgil and the boys rushed out to see what all the commotion was about. However, they were screamed back into the house by three distraught ladies in their birthday suits. He sent the boys to their bunk room, out of sight of the backyard spectacle.

Uncle Virgil’s whereabouts for the next twenty minutes or so was never ascertained. A strategic position behind a window curtain was suspected.

Aunt Ruby and her unfortunate companions slept in the barn that night on old crazy quilts doused with rose water. It was several weeks before she could scrub out from the new quilts the lingering fumes of her uninvited visitor.

Post Script

Aunt Ruby that year pieced a black and white quilt she called Woods Pussy. It got honorable mention at the county fair for “Most Unusual Design” -- but no ribbon.

She gave it to Mrs. Cashdollar who spread it for show whenever the ladies of Eastern Star came to quilt at her house.

Author: Lindsey Williams