Molly Clavering

“It's pathetic,' was Amanda's first thought as she watched an old woman, in a shapeless black hat dating from the last days of Victoria's reign, hovering over a dreadful tea-cloth embroidered in loud magenta and orange on a pink background of coarse linen, and beaming all across her lined face. "Ay, my granddochter, a' her ain work. She's an awfu' clever lassie," she said to a neighbor. Amanda changed her mind. 'It isn't pathetic at all. It's really rather wonderful, in these days when everything is centralized, and buns come machine-made out of a baker's shop, and hardly anyone knows what a churn is used for! I suppose, sooner or later, these little shows will die out, but I hope it won't be for a very long time. When they go, the last struggle of lonely country places to keep their individuality against the draw of towns will be over.”
― Molly Clavering, Touch Not the Nettle