Archive for March, 2012

A Prank of Nature

March 31, 2012


I laid out a garden
My spacious back yard in,
On April the first or somewhere thereabouts.
I dug and I spaded,
I sowed and I graded;
For two weeks thereafter I watched it for sprouts.

When Sol shone and baked it,
I watered and raked it,
As Burbank, I fancied myself quite as wise.
I worked so discreetly;
Each bed made so neatly,
My neighbors gazed at me with envious eyes.

How well I remember!
The first of September
Arrived, and my heart fluttered, sickened and sore.
No shoots were up peeping;
My garden lay sleeping
As sproutless and fruitless as five months before.

“It’s either enchanted,
Or hoodooed or haunted,”
I thought as I gazed at each somnolent bed.
That night came a frost, and
I said, “All is lost,” and
I bundled my garden tools off to the shed.

A week or two later,
Just back from Decatur,
I entered my garden, but what a surprise!
For pease and tomatoes,
Beans, corn and potatoes
Loomed smiling, to gladden my wondering eyes.

The wind of November,
The sleet of December
Worked overtime urging the young shoots to grow
You may not believe me,
But  that doesn’t grieve me,
My vegetables ripened in two feet of snow.

Syracuse, May 17th

Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) May 21, 1911

That Old Car Of Mine

March 30, 2012

Image from Classic Cars .Net

That Old Car Of Mine

By Oliver Rutter

There’s a whiz and a bang to my fitful old car
when I finally decide to ride,
As it is there’s a pang of best judgment by far
That I really should run and hide,
Though I tug at the levers and turn on the gas —
And think I can drive it like a consummate ass,
Yet the people all crowd in a clamoring mass
And police and the dogs even bark as I pass.
I buy wires, I buy tires, I buy patches galore,
‘Till the old roll wakes up with a scar,
How it ires, how it tires when the old garage door
Won’t admit all I buy that old car.
what with jacks and batteries and varnish and paint
To make it look decent, though my wife says it ain’t,
While the cost of adjustments and lights make me faint —
Oh I love your old car, but you sure tempt a saint.

With a wheeze and a sneeze it will come to a stop
In the middle of a railroad track.
Though I squeeze all I please the old engine to flop,
I must get out and push with my back,
And when flagging the passers they give me the laugh,
While I swear and I cry like a blubbering calf,
‘Till a tire blows up an this giving the gaff
Should end my sad story, but its not even half.

With a sniff and a snuff I start out for a phone
To call wreckers, or something like that.
What’s the dif, its enough to make a nanny moan
To be in a condition like that.
Now there are cars many and of more noble bore
That may be prettier and not cost any more,
Dear old car I love you with a love to the core
And when I am rested I will come back for more.
Now its done I must run up the mountain on high,
Just to see if ti’s going to last.
If the son of a gun will keep going I’ll try
To forget I have ever been gassed.
By the cling of the bug I believed was a car
So endeared to my soul by a bruise or a scar
And while I am doubtful, I won’t miss very far
In guessing I’ll finally be brought to the bar.

Morning Herald (Uniontown, Pennsylvania) Apr 4, 1935

Assassination Attempt – 1981

March 30, 2012

Reagan ‘Exceptionally Good’ Today

Doctors Say He’s Fit To Be In Command

AFTER REAGAN ATTACK — Timothy J. McCarthy, Secret Service agent, foreground, Thomas K. Delahanty, a Washington policeman, center, and Presidential Press Secretary James Brady, background, lie wounded on a street outside a Washington hotel Monday after shots were fired at President Reagan. (AP Laserphoto By Ron Edmonds)

The Gettysburg Times (Gettsyburg, Pennsylvania) Mar 31, 1981

WHERE REAGAN WAS WOUNDED — Map locates downtown Washington hotel where President Ronald Reagan was wounded Monday as he left a speaking engagement. The president was conscious and in stable condition in George Washington University Hospital. (AP Laserphoto Map)

The Gettysburg Times (Gettsyburg, Pennsylvania) Mar 31, 1981


REAGAN SHOT — Diagram shows approximate path of bullet that was fired at President Reagan during an assassination attempt Monday outside the Washington Hilton Hotel. (AP Laserphoto)

SITE OF ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT — Photo diagram highlights logistics of President Reagan and others during the assassination attempt on the president outside the Washington Hilton Hotel Monday. (AP Laserphoto)

SUSPECT IN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT — John Warnock Hinckley, Jr., was arrested Monday in an attempt to assassinate President Ronald Reagan outside the Washington Hilton Hotel. From left: a 1972 Highland Park, Texas, high school yearbook photo, a 1974 Texas Tech University yearbook photo, 1981 Colorado Highway Department photo. (AP Laserphoto)

The Gettysburg Times (Gettsyburg, Pennsylvania) Mar 31, 1981


Ronald Reagan Presidential LibraryGreat Place to Visit!

Previous Ronald Reagan Posts:

President’s Day Feature: Ronald Reagan

Ronald Reagan to the Rescue

Happy 100th Birthday, Mr. President!

THEY WERE TARGETS — Eight United States presidents have been the targets of assassins. A deranged house painter tried to kill President Andrew Jackson in 1835. President Abraham Lincoln was killed by John Wilkes Booth. President James Garfield was mortally wounded by a disgruntled job seeker. President William McKinley was killed by Leon Czolgosz, an anarchist factory worker. (AP Laserphoto)

THERE WERE TARGETS — President-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt escaped an attempt on his life in 1933. President John F. Kennedy was assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald on Nov. 22, 1963. President Gerald Ford escaped two attempts on his life in September, 1975. Monday President Ronald Reagan was wounded by John W. Hinckley, Jr. (AP Laserphoto)

The Gettysburg Times (Gettsyburg, Pennsylvania) Mar 31, 1981

Melancholy Days of Spring…Cleaning

March 29, 2012

Image from Vintage Homemaking

A Housecleaning Carol.

The melancholy days have came, the saddest of the year;
The carpet’s on the clothesline, and incessant whacks we hear;
The bedding’s in the kitchen, and the beds are in the hall;
The pictures are upon the floor, while someone dusts the wall;
We eat cold meat and crackers from a wobbly kitchen chair,
“Tis housecleaning time — so free from toil and care.
The neighbors line their windows and a hasty census take
Of all the bric-a-brac we have and calculations make —
If it was bought with ready cash or on installment plan;
And life is gay and careless like; it makes one want to roam —
To hie away — because the folks are cleaning house at home.
The melancholy days are here, the days of soap and dust;
Stove polish daubs the table ware; there’s pie on Wagner’s bust;
Piano holds some frying pans; the bathtub’s filled with books;
The woman folks, ah, who could tell who they were by their looks?
Sing hey! The glad housecleaning time, the time of dust and soap;
It is a gladsome sight to see — through a big telescope.

Suburbanite Economist (Chicago, Illinois) Apr 5, 1912

A Product of Southern Cultivation

March 29, 2012

The Atlanta Constitution – Apr 9, 1910

American Tobacco Company (Wiki link)

American Tobacco – Downtown Durham – History

The Washington Post – Apr 6, 1910

From the Philadelphia Press.

Johnny — Smokin’ cigarettes is dead sure to hurt yer.

Jimmy — G’on! where did yer git dat idee?

Johnny — From Pop.

Jimmy — Aw! he wuz jist stringin’ yer.

Johnny — No, he wuzn’t stringing me; he wuz strappin’ me. Dat’s how I know it hurts.

The Washington Post (Washington, D.C.) Aug 1, 1908

The Washington Post – Apr 30, 1910

Strange Smoking Disorder Reported

SAN FRANCISCO (AP) — A disorder which appeared in four patients after they stopped smoking cigarettes vanished dramatically when they took up the habit again, says a medical journal.

These strange cases were reported by Dr. Ralph Bookman, of Beverly Hills, in an article in California Medicine, official journal of the California Medical Association.

The disorder was canker sores in the mouth and on the tongue. They developed a few days after smoking was stopped.

Abilene Reporter News (Abilene, Texas) Oct 17, 1960

Galveston Daily News – Oct 7, 1910

“Maybe I was wicked to do it, but I feel a lot easier in my mind how that I know how a cigarette tastes.”

Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune (Wisconsin Rapids, Wisconsin) Jun 24, 1925

Galveston Daily News – Oct 21, 1910

“I pledged too much for missions, but I had took a puff at a cigarette Pa’s nephew left yesterday just to see what it was like an’ my conscience was hurtin’.”

Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune (Wisconsin Rapids, Wisconsin) Jun 26, 1926Galveston Daily News – Nov 15, 1910

Galveston Daily News – Nov 15, 1910

“My boy John used to argue in favor of women smokin’ cigarettes, but I ain’t heard a cheep out of him since I lit one last winter to try him out.”

Suburanite Economist (Chicago, Illinois) Aug 14, 1928

Galveston Daily News – Mar 14, 1911

“A MAN with whiskers ain’t got no business smokin’ cigarettes. Pa tried smokin’ a few the winter before he shaved clean, an’ I was forever smellin’ somethin’ burnin’.”

Suburbanite Economist (Chicago, Illinois) Sep 11, 1928

Reno Evening Gazette – Mar 15, 1911

Two things that keep Jane’s teen age daughter from eatin’ enough are smokin’ cigarettes and the knowledge that she has a cute little figure.

Traverse City Record Eagle (Traverse City, Michigan) Sep 18, 1962

The Atlanta Constitution – Mar 29, 1911

Jim Harkins has taken to readin’ theatrical magazines. He’ll be smokin’ cigarettes next.

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Aug 22, 1913

Most o’ th’ daubed-up girls I see sittin’ around with ther knees crossed smokin’ cigarettes must be gettin’ by on ther personality, if they git by at all. I remember when it used t’ take ten or twelve years o’ good, hard consistent boozin’ t’ kill a feller.

Coshocton Tribune (Coshocton, Ohio) Oct 18, 1926

Nevada State Journal – Apr 11, 1911

Grass Valley, Cal., April 1, 1906.

Editor OAKLAND TRIBUNE: Sir — I used ter resyde in Oakland, but after readin’ the sermons and newspaper akkounts of the wiked doins uv yure peple I feel thankful thet I am now residin’ in a moar moral kommunity.

It ‘pears tu me thet Berkly and Alameder are even wuss hotbeds of krime then Oakland.

From the time thet Deacon Logan set an example, which hes been follered by such a numerous band of amorous kohorts, Sally Jane an’ me heve been almost afraid to venture neer yure plase.

Our peeple are strong on chewin’ terbaccer an’ smokin’ pipes, but it is an unritten law here that if a feller is caught sellin’ or smokin’ cigarettes, ‘specially if he blos the smoke threw his nose, that the Vigilance Kommittee shall take the kriminal in hand.

My darter Sally has writ the followin’ feelin’ pome wich is inclosed. Yours till deth,


The town of Alameda, on San Francisco bay,
Lay sleeping in the sunshine of a balmy winter’s day;
The merry wavelets rippled along the tide canal,
And the live oaks nodded to the breeze upon the Encinal.

But woe to Alameda, disaster, shame and crime
Were to stain its fair escutcheon, e’en to the end of time,
And fill each dweller’s bosom with the keenest of regrets,
For Macfarlane had discovered that Bill Zingg sold cigarettes.

The mayor and city officials all
Were summoned at once to the City Hall,
The police were ordered to be within call,
Armed, cap-a-pie, with powder and ball;
A resolution was passed expressing regrets
That wicked Bill Zingg had sold cigarettes.

At once the press and pulpit the news disseminates
To every town and city throughout our galaxy of States;
From Bangor east to the Philippines west come expression of regrets
That Bill Zingg of Alameda ‘d sold a pack of cigarettes.

For centuries bold Captain Kidd, freebooter of the main,
Has sustained a reputation which quite equaled that of Cain,
But now he’s way down on the list, his reputation sets
Away among the “has beens” since Zingg sold cigarettes.

Oh, Billy Zingg! Oh, Billy Zingg! Regret e’re yet too late,
The greatest sinner may return, pass through the golden gate.

St. Peter may smile as you pass in, and express to you regrets,
That you’re the only Alamedan there, though you did sell cigarettes.

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Apr 3, 1906

Tater Division

March 28, 2012

Teacher — Harry, a mother has five children and but four potatoes. How can she divide the potatoes so that each will receive an equal portion?

Harry (quickly) Mash ’em!

— Harper’s Weekly.

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Apr 27, 1907

Woman Prospector Nurses Husband

March 27, 2012

Image from PopArtMachine


Mrs. Patrick O’Hara arrived in town yesterday from Witherspoon canyon in the Tule Canyon district, with the news that her husband, Pat O’Hara, a mining man well known in Southern Nevada, had on July 23 accidentally shot himself in the thigh. He was hunting rabbits and on stopping to adjust the hobbles on a horse his revolver was discharged, the bullet entering a point high up in the thigh. The nearest habitation to the O’Hara camp is at Lida, eight or nine miles distant and owing to the excessive heat on the desert his wife was afraid to risk the long drive over the desert to Goldfield for medical aid and has herself been treating the injured man, assisted only by the few Indians in the section.

Image from University of Texas LibrariesNevada Historical Topographical Maps

There is no doctor nearer than Goldfield and Mrs. O’Hara was unable to leave the wounded man until yesterday, when she drove over the scorching Ralston desert for supplies. She says that the patient is now getting on very well and there are no signs of blood poisoning. O’Hara is a member of the Knights of Pythias and has been in the section for some time engaged in mining. His wife says that they have a good prospect with some excellent ore exposed in a large vein. She was formerly Mrs. Casey, and was known as the “woman prospector,” having traveled far and wide over the desert and prospected alone in many parts of the southern part of the state.

— Goldfield Tribune.

Reno Evening Gazette (Reno, Nevada) Aug 8, 1910

CENSUS RECORDS showing Patrick O’Hara and wife, Syliva:


In 1920, they were listed as living in Lida, Patrick’s occupation listed as miner (gold and silver.) In 1910, they show up in the town of Goldfield, Patrick also listed as a (gold) miner, second marriage for both, Sylvia having had 2 children, but none living.


According to the 1930 census, Patrick was no longer working, but Sylvia was a tailoress, in her own shop.

By 1938, old Sylvia was back to propecting!

Reno Evening Gazette (Reno, Nevada) Dec 17, 1938

History of the Nivloc Mine – The Beginning

Double Barreled Stuff

March 26, 2012

Drilling For Oil — 1928 Campaign — Oil Charges — Public Interest

Lancaster Daily Eagle (Lancaster, Pennsylvania) Apr 7, 1928

Middle East War Threats — OIL — Mutant Arab Nationalism

The Lancaster Eagle-Gazette (Lancaster, Pennsylvania) Jul 3, 1958

The Deserter and Other Suffragists

March 26, 2012

Image from the Brooklyn Museum


The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an up-state village passed
A girl who bore ‘mid snow and ice
A banner with the weird device:
Votes for Women.

“Oh stay!” the rich landowner said,
As swiftly past the maiden fled,
“Take pity on a lonely wight!”
But yellow dodgers marked her flight:
Votes for Women.

The village constable ran out
To block her way with threat and shout.
Eluding him, along she strode,
And flyers scattered in the road:
Votes for Women.

The doctor in his gig rode by,
And sought to catch her flashing eye,
“Beware,” he warned, “such nervous strain!”
She threw back bills with might and main:
Votes for Women.

At handsome villa on the crest,
“Oh, pause,” young Perry begged, “and rest!
Those yellow slips your beauty mar!
Pale rose would suit you better far!”
Votes for Women.

“How sweet of you!” and by the gate
She lingered, sure she’d met her fate,
Right speedily the two were wed;
And now another in her stead
Strews Votes for Women.

— Toledo Blade.

Daily Northwester (Oshkosh, Wisconsin) Mar 4, 1911


Mrs. O.H.P. Belmont to Open “Farmerette” School


No Maude-Muller-raking-hay Idea, But a Practical Plow and Pig Pen Plant With Woman’s Suffrage on the Side.

New York, Feb. 25. — Mrs. O.H.P. Belmont announced to-day that she would open within a short time a school for teaching girls to farm. A class of twenty factory girls — all suffragists — will be instructed in the art of agriculture upon Mrs. Belmont’s 300 acres at Hempstead, L.I. Truck farming will be the specialty and when the young women have gathered their crops they will put on their sunbonnets, drive over to the city and learn how to sell them.

All this and more is in Mrs. Belmont’s plan, which she declares is the beginning of a social revolution which will make woman man’s peer in all lines of  endeavor. According to present plans the young women will be taught how to plow, sew, bed down horses, feed pigs, milk cows, make butter, rake hay and raise chickens as well. Not a man will be on the premises, even to chop wood or build chicken houses.

The girls will receive wages while learning. It is intended to make the place self-supporting and ultimately to enlarge the club. Mrs. Belmont also announced that she was working out the details of a plan in connection with the suffrage farm to enable her “farmerettes” to become owners of tiny farms from a half acre up. Such ownership, she says, would give them an incentive to work.

Back of the whole scheme, Mrs. Belmont declares, is the movement to win converts to her “votes for women” creed.

“To be a good farmer is only another way of working out the votes-for-women problem,” she said. “The more that women come to be owners of land, the makers of homes that are real homes, the more they will insist on the need of having the ballot to protect what is theirs.”

Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) Feb 26, 1911

Image from Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) Jun 16, 1911

Psalm of the Suffraget.

Show me not with scornful numbers
You’ve too many voters now,
Woman, wakened from her slumbers,
Wants to ballot anyhow.

Life with Bill or life with Ernest
Is no more our destined goal.
Man thou art, to man thou turnest,
But we, too, demand the poll.

Not enjoyment, naught but sorrow,
Is the legislator’s way,
For we’ll get to him tomorrow
If he should escape today.

Art’s expensive; styles are fleeting,
Let our lace edged banners wave,
Thus inscribed o’er every meeting,
“Give us suffrage or the grave.”

Heroines, prepare for battle!
Lend your efforts to the strife!
Drive all husbands forth like cattle!
Be a woman, not a wife!

Trust no man, however pleasant,
He’ll agree to all you say,
Send you candy as a present —
Go and vote the other way.

Wives of great men all remind us,
We can make our lives sublime
And preceding, leave behind us
All the rest at dinner time.

Let us then be up and doing,
Don the trousers and the coat,
For our candidate pursuing
The elusive, nimble vote.

— Smart Set.

New Castle News (New Castle, Pennsylvania) Feb 17, 1911

*The next two poems aren’t about “votes for women” or “suffrage,” but mention one or the other, so I am including them.

Of all the folk you meet around,
Or pass most every day,
Doesn’t the man who always argues
Make you want to swear — or pray?
He argues if you say it’s clear,
He argues if it rains;
He argues in a trolley car,
And argues on the trains.

He’s always an authority On politics and graft.
He quotes you things of Roosevelt,
And what he said to Taft.
If you should say that eggs are high,
He tells you they are low;
No matter what the plays you’ve seen,
He knows a better show.

He argues on the price of meat,
And votes for women, too.
He thinks you don’t know anything —
And hands it our to you!
There ought to be a muzzle law
For all that kind of men,
So they could never argue
Or even talk, again.

— Philadelphia Times.

Nevada State Journal (Reno, Nevada) Mar 7, 1911

Image from Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) Jun 25, 1911

The Scrappy Earth.

Bedlam down in Mexico,
Country in a stew;
In Brazil,
Matters ill,
Nicaragua, too.
Portugal still in a mess,
Spain dead scared of riot;
But around these of U.S.
Things are pretty quiet!

Suffragists in London town
Smashing statesmen’s maps.
In the air
Sounds of fervid scraps.
Things are getting hot, oh, yes;
Useless to deny it —
All except these old U.S. —
Here we’re pretty quiet!

True, ’twas not so long ago
We’d our little row —
Decent fuss,
Peaceful muss,
And it’s over now.
So we can scan the storm and stress
(Though, we scarce decry it)
And give thanks these old U.S.
Are so calm and quiet!

What’s the matter with the earth?
Why’s the whole world itching?
Making kinds
Take to wings,
All the bosses ditching?
When is peace once more to bless
All these scenes of riot?
Anyhow, these old U.S.
Still are calm and quiet!

— Paul West, in New York World.

Nevada State Journal (Reno, Nevada) Jan 15, 1911

A Queer Sort of Hymn

March 25, 2012

Image from Trees for Life

The Cherry Tree Carol (music and lyrics)

A Queer Sort of Hymn.

[From the Boston Watchman.]

The Baroness Coutts, whose charities are known all over the world, has built many churches, and among others St. Stephen’s, in Westminister, where a congregation of Ritualistic Episcopalians worship. Here is the hymn they sang on New Year’s Day. We almost hesitate to admit it to our columns, yet it illustrates a phase of religious life; it is a “sign of the times,” and therefore we print it:

Joseph was an old man,
An old man was he,
He married sweet Mary,
And a virgin was she.

As they went a-walking,
In the garden so gay,
Maid Mary spied cherries
Hanging over yon tree.

Mary said to Joseph,
With her sweet lip so mild,
“Pluck these cherries, Joseph,
For to give to my child.”

“Oh! then,” replied Joseph,
With words so unkind,
“I will pluck no cherries
For to give to thy child.”

Mary said to cherry tree,
“Bow down to my knee,
That I may pluck cherries
By one, two, and three.”

The uppermost sprig then
Bowed down to her knee;
“Thus you may see, Joseph,
These cherries are for me.”

“Oh! eat your cherries, Mary,
Oh! eat your cherries now;
Oh! eat your cherries, Mary,
That grow upon the bough.”

Galveston Daily News (Galveston, Texas) Mar 5, 1876