  “Oh, Mother dear, we’re going on the most wonderful hike to-morrow! Are my new bloomers ready to wear?” cried Margaret one afternoon as she ran into the house after school. “They are finished except the buttonholes, which I am about to cut and make now,” her mother replied. Then the telephone bell rang and Mrs. Allen was obliged to talk about something so important that Margaret knew it might take up a good deal of time before dinner. “I believe I’ll run up-stairs and ask Sir Bodkin to show me how to make these buttonholes,” she said to herself. Suiting the action “Sir Bodkin,” she called. “Here I come,” he answered hopping out of the work-basket. “Do you know how to make buttonholes?” she asked him. “Well I should say so,” he said. “That’s fine, for I want to make two in the band of my new bloomers,” said Margaret. “Have you any buttonhole scissors?” he then asked her. “I think Mother has. I’ll run and get them,” Margaret replied, hurrying out of the room. In a jiffy she was back again with a pair of odd-looking scissors in her hand. They had a notch in the blades and a screw on the handle. Margaret showed him two black bone buttons. “Follow a thread of the goods” “The top of the button will show how large to cut the buttonhole,” Sir Bodkin said. “Turn the screw until the blades cut a slit a tiny bit longer than the button top is wide. Test or try the size on a scrap of cloth before cutting the holes in your band.” When Margaret had done this and the “Begin to cut one-quarter inch from the edge of the band. Follow a thread of the goods to cut the hole straight,” said Sir Bodkin. “Cut one hole at a time, then work it.” Margaret cut the first hole. Sir Bodkin called a stout Stitcher and he was harnessed with black cotton thread, a small knot at one end. “Now to your work!” the King said, “and don’t forget you begin at the end farthest away from the edge,—turning your work as you sew.” He told Margaret to hold the buttonhole along her left forefinger with the starting end next the finger-tip and the top of the band towards her. Stitcher slipped between the Bar half-way around “The bar we place along each side, To keep the slit from stretching wide,” Bar explained the King as Stitcher stepped through the cloth again at the place where he started. Then he sang: “Now over and over the edge we skip, So it won’t ravel and so it won’t rip. Along each side, ’round each end go, Catching down the long bar threads as we sew.” “That’s the overcasting,” said Sir Bodkin, Overcasting half around Stitcher was harnessed with some, and then stepped on the wrong side of the buttonhole at the starting end to fasten the thread with tiny back steps. “This buttonhole-stitch will cover the bar and overcasting,” he said. “Now turn your work around, so that the starting end will be at your right hand, and do as I tell you.” Then he sang: “At starting end, I come half-way through, From my eye you bring threads down the right ’neath my toe, Left thumb holds them down, I slip through and over, Pull threads out and up, the edge firmly cover. Stitching left, ’long the side and around the end go, Then ’long the next side to starting end, sew. With blanket-stitch cover, to make this end strong.” Buttonhole-stitch “My! that was a teeny bit hard to do,” said Margaret to Stitcher and Sir Bodkin when the first buttonhole was finished. She took a little rest before starting the other one. “They aren’t easy the first time. You have to mind your P’s and Q’s. But ‘Practice makes perfect,’” said the King to her. Finished buttonhole Margaret cut the second buttonhole on the other end of the band, put on the bar and then overcast it. “Keep buttonhole stitches even and close When the second one was done, Sir Bodkin showed Margaret how to lap the buttonholes over the other end of the band and mark the place for the buttons with a pin. Then she sewed each button on with strong black cotton thread. Just as she finished she heard her mother calling to her that dinner was ready. “I wonder what she’ll say when she sees these,” Margaret said to her little friends. “She’ll think you’re a very smart little girl, I’ll wager,” replied Sir Bodkin, bowing and scraping. |
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