MKB Pattern No. 27 – Point Pattern

The 27th pattern in Miss Lambert’s My Knitting Book (1843, First Series) is called Point Pattern.  The pattern is quite straightforward, especially once it has been charted (see, I am learning!)

This stitch pattern has already been translated by the talented Franklin Habit as part of Miss Lambert’s Lace Sampler published in Knitty in 2009.  However, my interpretation differs slightly from his as I believe that every other row is a knit row, instead of a purl row as he has shown in his chart (although I think the sample shows the knit row, so maybe it is a typo on the chart?).  Either way, it is a lovely little stitch pattern!

Either way, it is a beautiful little stitch pattern!

I think differences in our translations of Miss Lambert’s pattern shows the significant role of personal interpretation in reproducing these 174-year-old knitting patterns.  At the end of the day, no one really knows what Miss Lambert’s finished items looked like. So we do the best with what we have, using our skills and our smarts and some creativity when things look a bit weird!

My chart and written instructions can be found here: III – Point Pattern.

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Grab some yarn and needles to match, cast on a multiple of 6 stitches plus 3 and give it a try!  I think you’ll enjoy bringing this old stitch pattern back to life!  Happy knitting!

Fiction Friday: Hiding

“Sleep little one,” she whispered.  “Sleep.”  She gently held the baby in the darkness.  The air was close and hot in the attic space.  The baby’s face was damp and his curls stuck to his forehead.  His cheeks were flushed and his thumb was tucked firmly in his tiny mouth.  The maid, just a girl, rocked the baby and hoped he would remain quiet until they were safe.  She would do everything she could to protect him.

She heard a loud crash in the rooms below and her heart leapt with fear.  She waited, almost forgetting to breathe, for the inevitable sound of heavy boots on the stairs. Another crash and then the sounds of wood and glass breaking.  Men’s voices, laughter, fading as the ruffians moved to another part of the house.

Relieved, she pulled the baby back into the darkest corner of the attic.  The baby moved in his sleep and sighed.  “Shh, little one.”  She whispered.  “Sleep now, my lord.”

She glanced out the attic window into the night, looking for the lights that would signal rescue.  She closed her eyes and prayed.