PATCHOGUE, N.Y., Wednesday—We are having beautiful weather. Yesterday it was warm and sunny but there was enough breeze so that driving was pleasant and sitting on the sun-porch, where I do my mail and write this column every day, was cool and peaceful. We hear only the drowsy insects hum and the usual farm noises, punctuated now and then by the dog's bark as an occasional car goes by. There is no telephone in this house to disturb us and I know that I should be taking advantage of such unusual peace to think out some really important problem. But even if I could, who would care? No, I had better vegetate and do my knitting and enjoy a rare opportunity to take part in some of the daily tasks which form the pattern of most women's lives.

Incidentally, I have achieved a personal triumph. I never could use my portable typewriter without producing practically unreadable copy because under my inept fingers spaces, which had no business to be there, appeared in every word. Yesterday I "caught on" and, while I am still the world's slowest typist, at least the result is readable.

The Mountaineer Craftsmen, from West Virginia, have again sent Mrs. Maul out to exhibit and sell their wares. I have a special interest in them because their factory is in Arthurdale. I heard that they would be at the Orchard Tea Room in Coram, Long Island, for a few days, so I asked my hostess if she could arrange to see the sale. Yesterday noon we drove to the Middle Country Road and not only saw the sale going on but enjoyed an excellent lunch. The house is some 200 years old and therefore interesting in itself. The lady who runs the tea room has been in business for years and is a good cook. Her orange layer cake melts in your mouth.

Berea, the Churchill Weavers, the Brassknocker School and other places have sent some of their wares out with those of the Mountaineer Craftsmen, so there is a variety of furniture, pewter, copper, tin and ironwork, together with woven and knitted goods from which to choose. There seemed to be something attractive to fit any purse. I hope they will do well here and in Bar Harbor.

We returned in time to write a few letters before going to dine with some friends. This is a big island and our friends live some distance away, but we enjoyed ourselves. Even though my hostess had been up since 6:00 a.m., she hated to tear herself away. Homeward bound, I dozed until she announced: "You had better talk to me or I shall go to sleep at the wheel." I talked inanely, as one does when commanded to converse. Suddenly I had to say sternly: "If you don't keep to the right we will run into those trucks."

As it was, we gave them none too much room. A few minutes later we pulled up by the side of the road so my hostess could light a cigarette. She remarked calmly: "Funny, nearly hitting those trucks didn't wake me up." However, we reached home without further excitement.