Archive for July 21st, 2010

Pin Backward My Skirts

July 21, 2010

BACKWARD — PIN-BACKWARD.

BY MELINDA MELROSE.

BACKWARD, pin backward my skirts in their flight,
Make me small again, just for to-night.
a am so weary and my skirts so long,
Sweeping the pavements as I walk along,
Gathering the dirt from out of the street,
Looked at by every one that I meet.
Mother, dear mother, I know I’m a fright,
Pin back my skirts, mother, pin ’em back tight.

Mother, dear mother, the days are so warm,
And I’m tired of this dress I have on,
It is so clumsy and don’t fit me right,
Pin it back, mother, pin it back tight.
Now I’m ready, don’t I look sweet?
Smiling on all I happen to meet,
I’m in the fashion, so that is all right
Pin back my skirts, mother, pin ’em back tight.

Mother, dear mother, I know it’s a sin
To wear dresses that show off one’s limbs,
But what is a poor girl to do,
If all the world wears them she must wear ’em too.
It is only those who are thin that are afraid
To show off a form that is not well made.
You may laugh, but you know that I’m right,
Pin back my skirts, mother, pin ’em back tight.

The Portsmouth Times (Portsmouth, Ohio) Oct 23, 1875

1875 (Image from http://www.igg.org.uk)

A Drunkard Gets Bellowed

July 21, 2010

New Cure for Drunkenness.

Police of Paris are investigating a curious case. The wife of an engineer, whose husband was in the habit of beating her when he was drunk, reached the limit of patience the other day and determined to inflict a lesson on him.

When he arrived home about two o’clock in the morning in the usual condition she conducted him into the workshop, flung him face downward, fastened him securely, and, taking the bellows from the forge, proceeded to blow him up.

The pain he suffered brought him to his senses and his cries summoned the neighbors, who released him, seriously ill with peritonitis. His wife was arrested.

Daily Iowa State Press (Iowa City, Iowa) Nov 1, 1901

New Fangled School Books

July 21, 2010

Looking Into the Future.

“I guess I might as well quit school, papa,” said the boy.

“Why, my son?”

“Oh, there ain’t any use going, except to be able to help my little boy when I grow up, and if they have changed the way of doing things since you were a boy so that you can’t help me now, it’s likely I’m just wasting my time getting ready to help my little boy.”

He got the help he wanted, but it was a good thing he didn’t hear what his father had to say about new fangled school books after he had gone to bed.

— Chicago Post.

Idaho Daily Statesman (Boise City, Idaho) Oct 28, 1898