Posts Tagged ‘1914’

The Warmth of Perfection

December 11, 2012

Vintage Perfection Oil Heater

Image from Etsy

Oil Heater - Perfection - The News - Frederick MD 24 Dec 1907

Glowing Heat From Every Ounce of Fuel

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 24, 1907

Oil Heater - Perfection - The Gettysburg Times PA 09 Dec 1911

Clean Dry Heat

The Gettysburg Times (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Dec 9, 1911

Oil Heater - Perfection - Olean Evening Times NY 24 Dec 1912

Houses Without Chimneys

Olean Evening Times (Olean, New York) Dec 24, 1912

Oil Heater - Perfection - The Frederick Post MD 12 Dec 1914

Baby’s Morning Dip

The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 12, 1914

Oil Heater - Perfection - The Frederick Post MD 18 Dec 1915

A Touch of a Match Brings a Touch of Spring

The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 18, 1915

Oil Heater - Perfection - The Frederick Post MD 18 Dec 1918

Emergency Heating

The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 18, 1918

Oil Heater - Perfection - The Gettysburg Times PA 18 Dec 1918

Don’t Waste Coal

The Gettysburg Times (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Dec 18, 1918

Gareth to Lynette

December 6, 2012

arthur hughes - inspired by Tennyson's Gareth and Lynette

Image from ARTMAGICK

Poem in College Magazine.

The following poem which appeared in the University of Virginia Magazine, published by the students, was written by L. Travis White, of Frederick, who is studying law at the institution:

Gareth to Lynette.

Then Gareth: “Here be rules. I know but one —
To dash against mine enemy and to win.” — Tennyson.

More soft than silken strands the hair
That tumbles round thy temples fair,
Tossed by the summer air;
Like roses bloom thy cheeks;
The droning bee they near deceive,
When proffered sweetness to receive
Some brim-full flower he seeks.

Thine eyes, like twin stars on the deep,
Soft-mirrored when the billows sleeps
And moaning winds their silence keep,
Shine tenderly; yet seem
They like the dewdrops when the lawn
Gem-strewn, doth greet the Sun of dawn —
And mockingly they gleam.

Near thee the lark on tireless wing
Hovers his sweetest song to sing;
To thee the zephyrs tribute bring,
With violent-laden breath.
The buds whose fragrance is most sweet
Are gladly crushed beneath thy feet —
Thrice blest in such a death.

But thy heart is as hard to lover’s pain
Like the rocks beside the storm-swept main —
Against them dash, in vain, in vain,
The waves of a passionate sea;
Yet slow to ocean yields the land,
The proud rocks crumble into sand —
So will I conquer thee!

— L. Travis White.

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 4, 1912

L Travis White - Class of 1911 - Frederick MD - The Frederick Post MD 15 Dec 1971

L. Travis White is number 4 in the picture above.

Frederick High School’s Class of 1911 is once again part of the scene at the local school, at least in the form of the official class photograph presented to the school recently by Robert J. DiDomenico, executive director of Goodwill Industries of Monocacy Valley Inc.

The full story of where the old fashioned studio picture spent the last 60 years will probably never be known, although it can easily be visualized gracing the living room of some proud graduate’s home.

Whatever its history, the picture complete with handsome frame and glass, turned up as part of an anonymous donation to Goodwill and was spotted by Mrs. Barbara Coulter, secretary to DiDomenico, who recognized it as an interesting bit of memorabilia for the school.

DiDomenico agreed that this was a fitting disposition for the photograph and it was presented to George Seaton, principal of Frederick High School.

The picture, taken in the era of the old Boys High School, now Elm Street Elementary School, reveals several points of contrast with more recent high school class photos. Most obvious, of course, is the fact that the class is composed of only 19 members, all boys.

It is also interesting to note that the students are pictured in a West Point type military uniform, an indication of the schools’ past presently reflected only in the nickname “Cadets,” used by Frederick High athletic teams.

The students’ haircuts, on the other hand, are a bit on the full side with moderate sideburns not too different from today’s more conservative styles.

Most familiar, however, are the surnames, most of which are still prominently represented in Frederick County today. No effort has been made to tell how many members of the class survived, but Principal Seaton would be pleased to hear from any who might still live in the area.

Names of those identified in the Smith Studio (of Frederick) photograph include: Clyde E. Burgee, Allen G. Quynn, Earl E. Zeigler, L. Ray Burgee, Louis A. Rice, James R. Keller, J. Ernest Haifleigh, R. Dorsey Sappington, Willis D. Witter, George L. Rothenhoefer, Dean W. Hendrickson, David L. Johnson, William H. Solt, Marvin L. Shirley, Prof. Amon Burgee, Edgar J. Eyler, J. Roger Fisher, L. Travis White, John L. Shaw and J.F. Minor Simpson.

The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 15, 1971

L Travis White - Scholarship - The News - Frederick MD 06 Jun 1912

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Jun 6, 1912

L Travis White - Scholarship - The News - Frederick MD 20 Jun 1914

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Jun 20, 1914

Travis White El Paso - Caribel and Roxanna visit - The Frederick Post MD 11 Apr 1931

The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) Apr 11, 1931

L Travis White - Odd Tricks - Bridge book cover

Image from Gamblers Book Club

From Bridge Guys – Bridge Books:

White, Littleton Travis – (July 3, 1894 – December 1973) – Littleton Travis White

Odd Tricks, c1934, Edited by Albert H. Morehead and Clifford A. Bender, Publisher: The Bridge World, Inc., New York City, United States; also Odd Tricks, 1978, Edited by Albert H. Morehead and Clifford A. Bender, Publisher: GBC Press, Las Vegas, United States, ISBN-10: 0896508102; also Odd Tricks, 1983, Edited by Albert H. Morehead and Clifford A. Bender, Publisher: Casino Press, ISBN-10: 0870190334 / ISBN-13: 9780870190339, LC: 34041970

Note: Mr. Paul Ryan has contributed this information in addition to a scanned version of the newspaper article in the El Paso Herald Post upon the publication of the bridge book. This information is included in a .pdf file for the interest of the bridge visitor and, in addition, a visually more acceptable version, also in a .pdf file format. Mr. Paul Ryan has also included the scanned version of the World War I Draft Registration Cards, 1917-1918, of Littleton Travis White and also the scanned information collected during the 1930 United States Federal Census. Also include is the Social Security

*     *     *     *     *

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
The Work Done By The Just Government League:

[excerpt – L. Travis White’s mother was involved in women’s suffrage movement]

L Travis White - Mrs John Kearnes White - Suffragette - The News - Frederick MD 15 Dec 1915

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 15, 1915

Littleton Travis White - Roxanna's Party - The News - Frederick MD 17 Dec 1901

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Dec 17, 1901

*     *     *

Evidently, his sister was a bit of an artist:

Roxanna White - Charcoal Drawing - The Frederick Post MD 15 Oct 1917

The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) Oct 15, 1917

Campus map, St. John's College (MD)

Image from HCAP

L. Travis White’s sister, Roxanna, married the president of St. John’s College. What I found interesting were his comments to the Rotary Club about the educational revolution, and St. John’s “counter-revolution”:

COLLEGE HEAD TALKS TO CLUB

St. John’s System Explained To Rotarians By President

Educational counter-revolution by St. John’s College, Annapolis, shared discussion with the shortage of Maryland oysters as topics of discussion before the Wednesday luncheon meeting of the Frederick Rotary Club.

Dr. John Spangler Kieffer, president of St. John’s College and also of Annapolis’ Rotary, described the 100-book foundation of knowledge system inaugurated by the school in 1937.

W.R. Slemmer, chairman of the local Rotarians’ committee for an oyster-roast to be held later this month, changed the after-dinner talk of members from the day’s topic of  “Education in Revolution”, to “will we be able to get oysters to roast?”, when he refused to continue sale of tickets for the proposed affair, until weather conditions and the bivalve market assures delivery of the food.

Introduced by his uncle, Rev. Henri L.G. Kieffer, the speaker of the meeting explained St. John’s College new system as anomalous, in that it is designed to maintain the “aura of college aristocracy, with democratic ideals.”

The highly honored Harvard graduate was made president of the Annapolis college last year, succeeding Stringfellow Barr in continuing the “nationally observed new-trend for education, started in 1937.” President Kieffer’s wife, the former Miss Roxanna White, is a native of Frederick.

Called Revolutionary

Dr. Kieffer explained that the St. John’s program is actually a revolution against the nineteenth-century revolution in education. That classical education of the past hundred years was not the complete fundamental knowledge necessary to developments of laboratory sciences and that elective courses were a compromise which undergraduates are not capable of choosing.

He deplored over-specialization in teaching undergraduates and summed up the program of his college system, as one intended to complete adolescence of students by training the mind to think generally and adultly; thereby being acquainted with the “principles” of the civilization in which he will live.

“We are living through a revolutionary period, as evidenced by the present loss of standards, faith and belief in things,” Dr. Kieffer said, “There is skepticism, dogmatism, on every hand. There is a general lack of knowledge and faith in fundamentals. We have lost the stability of the nineteenth century minds, because the atomic bomb disproved Maxwell’s system of physics,” the speaker concluded.

The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) Feb 12, 1948

*     *     *     *     *

Interesting “men vs. women” note in this article excerpt:

PARTY FOLLOWS FINAL SEMINAR

Mr. And Mrs. Kieffer Are Honored By Group At Library

Women may control the wealth of the country as statistics indicate, but it was the men who defended its economic system as opposed to the Communist theory in a lively final session of the Great Books Seminar in the C. Burr Arts Library, May 2 during the discussion of the Communist Manifesto. John S. Kieffer, director of adult education at St. John’s College, Annapolis, who has been conducting the Seminar, presented. The session concluded with a party given by Between-the Book-Ends Club in honor of Mr and Mrs. Kieffer….

Kieffer - Book Seminar - The Frederick Post MD 12 May 1952

The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) May 12, 1952

*     * Census Records *     *

John Kearnes White, the father, doesn’t every appear to be with the family:

Littleton Travis White - 1900 census - Frederick MD

1900 Federal Census – Frederick, MD

Travis White - 1910 census - Frederick MD

1910 Federal Census – Frederick, MD

In 1920, Mrs. White and Roxanna are still living in Frederick, MD, sans father, and Littleton Travis White is a roomer in Virginia, practicing law.

*     *     *

By 1940, Littleton Travis White was finally married, and to quite the YOUNG lady:

Travis White - 1940 census - El Paso TX

Living in El Paso, Texas, with his mother-in-law, young wife, and baby daughter.

*     *     *     *     *

According to his mother’s obituary, she was a member of the United Daughters of the Confederacy:

Caribel Travis White - Obituary - The Frederick Post MD 30 Apr 1954

The Frederick Post (Frederick, Maryland) Apr 30, 1954

John Kearnes White - The White Rose

Travis’s father appears to have authored a book of poetry. The interesting part is the dedication:

John Kearnes White - to my mother

To My Mother, not My Wife.

HATHI TRUST Digital Library has the book online: THE WHITE ROSE

*     *     *     *     *

Littleton Travis White died in Annapolis, Maryland, while visiting his sister:

Travis White - Obituary - El Paso Herald-Post TX 08 Dec 1973

His death was front page news in the El Paso Herald-Post (El Paso, Texas) Dec 8, 1973

The End

All this for a poem!

Edmund Norman Leslie: Genealogical Maniac

August 24, 2012

Image from Skaneateles: History of its Earliest Settlement and Reminiscences of Later Times –  by Edmund Norman Leslie (HATHI TRUST Digital Library)

COMMITTEE FOR LESLIE

HAD A MANIA FOR LOOKING UP ANCESTRY OF HIS NEIGHBORS.

Skaneateles Man is 92 Years Old and Has an Estate Valued at $100,000 — Petition Filed to Have Him Declared Incompetent.

Edmund Norman Leslie, a well know Skaneateles nonagenarian, is said to have a mania for looking up the genealogical history of his acquaintances. Skaneateles people, as a rule, are proud of their ancestry, therefore, there is nothing significant in proceedings which have been started to have the aged man declared incompetent and a committee appointed to care for his property or person.

Of course, there are some people who send their family skeleton back into its hole the moment any effort is made to bring the bony creature from its closet. Not that it would make any difference, perhaps. A black sheep or two among a long line of ancestors is more the rule than the exception, but there are some who favor not some outsider delving into the family secrets.

Nothing like that in Skaneateles. No objection was made to Mr. Leslie’s publishing a book, which was a historical review of Skaneateles with a sketch of some length of some of the more prominent families. The book was well received and Mr. Leslie was encouraged to continue his research into family histories.

Whatever Mr. Leslie discovered will not reach the public, however, because proceedings have been started to have the aged Skaneateles historian declared incompetent and a petition for the appointment of a committee has been made to County Judge W M. Rose by Attorney Martin F. Dillon of Skaneateles.

Mr. Leslie is 92 years old and has an estate valued at $100,00. He is part owner of the Mansion House at Buffalo. The committee for him has not been named.

Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) Jul 4, 1908

Skaneateles, May 17. — The last chapter of the old Mansion House in the city of Buffalo was closed last Monday when Martin F. Dillon as executor and trustee under the last will [and testament of Edmund Norman Leslie] conveyed the same to the New York Central & Hudson River Railroad company. For nearly sixty years one half of the same was owned by Edmund Norman Leslie of the village of Skaneateles.

Edmund Norman Leslie was the son of Captain and Mrs. David Leslie. Captain Leslie was born in Scotland in September, 1780, in the parish of Monimail, Fishire. He became a noted ship captain and upon his retirement took up his residence at New Bedford, Mass. He had two children. Henry and Edmund Norman Leslie. Captain Leslie died in New York in 1835.

Edmund Norman Leslie also became a ship master and many time sailed around the  Horn. He retired from business and came to Skaneateles in 1851. He married Millicent A. Coe, who died March 15th, 1890. Mr. Leslie was a sturdy Scotchman and believed in doing right to all his fellowmen. He took a great deal of interest in village affairs and political battles were waged by him. He was president of the village of Skaneateles in 1895 and 1896. He prevented the Skaneateles Water Works company from forcing the sale of its property on the village and in the face of its opposition guided the village while it constructed a new system. During his term of office, he also granted the franchise to the Syracuse & Auburn Electric Railroad company, preparing the franchise himself. He was also identified with the establishing of the Lake View cemetery, the Skateateles Library association and other enterprises identified with the village. He was good to the poor and each year would call upon the coal dealers to ascertain whether or not there were any poor people on their list in need of fuel.

After the death of his wife, Millicent A. Leslie, he acquired an additional interest in the Mansion house in the city of Buffalo. Mr. Leslie died at his home in Genesee street in the village of Skaneateles November 30th, 1908, at the age of 94 years. His only relatives were distant cousins, one of whom married Lieutenant Edward F. Qualtrough; another married Lieutenant Harrison, U.S.A., who at the time of his death had charge of Forrtress Monroe, and another married Lieutenant Mann who was killed in the Indian war.

The history of the same is quite romantic.

Image from The History of Buffalo

History of Mansion House.

In the early “forties” Belah D. Coe owned and operated many mail and stage routes, which terminated in Buffalo. To accommodate his passengers, he built the Mansion house, which contained 285 rooms. It was a brick building and substantially fireproof, the partitions also brick, extending from the cellar to the garret. For many years, it was operated by W.E. Stafford, who became famous as a hotel man, and who went to the Waldorf-Astoria in New York.

Belah D. Coe was a bachelor, and at his death in 1854, by his will, this property went to two nieces and a nephew, being Millicent A. Marshall of Buffalo, Millicent A. Leslie and Edward B. Coe of Skaneateles, and to the heirs of their body. In the event of the death of any of these people with out issue, the share was to be divided between the Buffalo Orphan asylum and the Auburn Theological seminary.

Edward B. Coe left home in 1840. He was declared judicially dead in 1857, and the share of his portion in the Mansion house went to the Buffalo Orphan asylum and to his sister, Millicent A. Leslie, as the Auburn Theological seminary could not, by its charter, take and hold real estate. After the disappearance of Edward B. Coe in 1849, he became a sailor and drifted into South Africa, where he was sold as a slave. His brother-in-law, Edmund Norman Leslie, never believed him dead. He obtained from the Department of State of Washington, the name and location of all the United States consuls and commercial agents in all parts of the world. He had a circular printed in red and black letters offering a reward of $200 for any information of Edward B. Coe, at the same time giving a minute description of his person, particularly that he had his name tatoed on his left arm. These circulars were mailed to every United States consul in all parts of the world.

Edward B. Coe Returns.

In 1891 Edward B. Coe returned and then began the fight to recover the property left him by his uncle’s will. During the argument in court, the presiding judge intimated that, having been declared judicially dead, he had no standing in court, to which his counsel, the late William H. Seward, replied: “If such a decision is to be law in this case, Edward B. Coe, who is sitting here in the presence of this court, can go into the street and commit murder and you cannot punish him, because he has been declared judicially dead.” This argument restored the property to Edward B. Coe. He lived here for several years, but meeting business reverses, he mortgaged his property to the late Charles Pardee, who afterward acquired the same by mortgage foreclosure. IN 1875 Charles Pardee committed suicide, and this property went by his will to his daughter, Mary E. Moses.

Edward B. Coe left Skaneateles for Philadelphia at which time the steamer “Queen of the Pacific” was about to leave for San Fransisco by the way of Cape Horn. After a voyage of about six weeks he reached San Francisco. The “Queen” then commenced regular trips from San Francisco to Portland, Oregon, carrying freight and passengers. He remained on this vessel until September 5th, 1883, at which time he became despondent and fastening a large heavy lantern to his arm jumped overboard and wen to the bottom of the Pacific ocean.

About that time the New York Central & Hudson River Railroad company acquired a portion of the property by condemnation, and the award was paid in court, upon the application to withdraw the same, by Millie Coe, the daughter of Edward B. Coe, then a girl 17 years of age. This indeed was a battle royal. The question raised was that she had an estate tail in this property, and her father, not having the title in fee simple, could not deprive her of it. The opposition contended that the statue of 1786 eliminated the estate tail in this country.

The legal giants of that time were employed on either side, Benoni Lee of Skaneateles, L.R. Morgan of Syracuse, P.R. Cox of Auburn, Spencer Clinton and Charles D. Marshall of Buffalo.

The court finally held that Miss Coe had no interest in the property. A short time after this decision, Edmund Norman Leslie acquired that interest and held the same at the time of his death in his ninety-fourth year. By his will, he devised the same in trust to Martin F. Dillon of Skaneateles, who has for two months been engaged in perfecting the title, and the deed was finally delivered last Monday.

The New York Central & Hudson River Railroad company will tear down the old structure and use the land for a new $10,000,000 terminal. This will be the end of an old landmark, which had stood for nearly three-quarters of a century, during which time guests from all nations of the world have been entertained.

Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) May 18, 1913

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Jun 18, 1913

Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York)  Dec 28, 1914

Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) Apr 14, 1916

*  *  *  *  *

An excerpt from a bio of the “genealogical maniac” posted on an Ancestry.com message board:

Upon his removal to Skaneateles the want of active employment induced him to take up the subject of the early history of the town and village. He obtained two ledgers which had been kept by early merchants of 1805 and 1815 respectively, and from them secured the names of nearly all the earliest settlers, especially those who made their purchases here. He collected and preserved some very valuable historical matter concerning the locality, which was first published in a series of papers in the Democrat, afterward copied in the Free Press, and later printed in book form by Charles P. Cornell, of Auburn, N. Y.

Mr. Leslie furnished entirely from his own collections the only complete list of the names of 364 union volunteers who enlisted from the town of Skaneateles, or enlisted elsewhere, but belonged to this town, giving rank, company, and regiment, in alphabetical order, which list was published in the Free Press. He has also collected some of the most valuable files of original local newspapers, had them bound in volumes, and presented them to the Skaneateles Library Association for preservation. He has erected a beautiful memorial tablet in St. Jame’s church in memory of the sons of that church who lost their lives in defense of the Union. He has also published several series of the lives of early prominent residents of the town, notably of Lydia P. Mott, a prominent promoter of female education, who established ‘The Friend’s Female Boarding School,” which was known as “The Hive.” Many of the ladies of Auburn and surrounding country were educated at this school, which was discontinued about seventy years ago. Mr. Leslie’s labor is of a character that will survive and perpetuate his memory to coming generations. All of his valuable historical work has been done gratuitously.

Swat the Fly, Ohio

June 19, 2012

Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) May 5, 1913

FACTS ABOUT FLIES.

Flies make milk impure.

Flies do nothing but harm.

Flies are wholesale murderers.

Flies bring summer complaint.

Flies cause epidemics of disease.

Flies do not belong in this town.

Flies find nothing too filthy to eat.

Flies spread the hookworm disease.

Flies kill 100,000 people in this country every year.

Flies carry death about on their hairy legs and wings.

Flies cost the United States $500,000,000 annually.

Flies are responsible for the majority of deaths among children.

The Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Apr 17, 1913


SWAT THE FLY BEFORE IT’S BORN

The four principal steps in organizing a campaign against the fly are as follows:

First. — To educate people as to the deadly nature of the fly.

Second. — To kill off all winter flies, those hiding about the houses, waiting their season to forage.

Third. — To do away with all breeding places for flies.

Fourth. — To trap all flies which happen to escape.

The extermination of the winter fly is a problem for the individual house-wife. Don’t let one fly escape. Hunt for them all and kill them early in the spring, for the winter fly is the parent of summer’s terrible swarms.

To do away with the fly breeding places is merely a matter of cleanliness. Clean houses, gardens and yards. Clean streets and alleyways.

Discourage the fly in its breeding proclivities.

Carrying out the fourth step, the sale of fly traps should be encouraged in every store.

To sum it all up, swat the fly before it is born.

The Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) May 6, 1913

THE DIARY OF DEATH.

By ADRIENNE CODY, aged sixteen, of Central park school, Topeka.

I am a fly. I’m not very old and am just learning where to find the best things to eat. My favorite places are in the spittoon in the sitting room and the uncovered garbage can on the back porch. Of course some flies would be bothered about having to go out of doors to get to that can. But it doesn’t worry me. In the house where I live there aren’t any screens, so I can fly from the garbage can to the spittoon in perfect safety. I often stop on the way, though, to get in the sugar bowl or crawl over any eatables that are handy.

There’s a baby in this house who annoys me very much. Every time I leave the spittoon and crawl into that baby’s mouth it cries and spits me out. Of course I leave a few tuberculosis germs in its mouth, but it doesn’t seem like that would hurt the baby.

It seems to me like people don’t know what is good to eat. At least the people in this house don’t. Why, they throw away all the good things. They put them in the garbage pail. I am endeavoring to show them what good things are, however, for I get my feet all sticky in the garbage can and then go and wipe them on the bread. About a hundred of my companions are doing the same thing. I really believe that the people are beginning to like it, for they never trouble us any more. We wipe our feet on the bread in peace and quiet.

I heard the woman across the way say that she believed flies had something to do with the man in this house having consumption. I wonder if he got it from the bread.

The woman across the way is losing all her flies. They’re all coming over to our house. She won’t give them anything to eat. She covers up her garbage pail, has tight screens on all her doors and is a terror to flies in general. Her children are such happy, hearty youngsters, while the children in this house are always cross. They never get any afternoon nap. The flies won’t let them.

There’s a very great deal of illness in this house. Two of the boys have malaria and the father is never well. I hears the mother say to the woman across the way: “I really do not know what to do for all this sickness. IT drives me distracted.” What do you think that woman said? Why, “Swat the fly,” of course, at which I ducked. Oh, yes! The baby has typhoid.

The Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) May 26, 1913

Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Mar 24, 1914

NOT ONLY SWAT BUT STARVE THE FLY.

A YEAR ago the “Swat the fly!” slogan had a country wide vogue, and as a result probably billions of flies were swatted. But because of the enormous capacity of flies for multiplication — a single pair may produce billions of their kind — there did not seem to be a very appreciable diminution in the total number.

The wiser slogan “Starve the fly!” has been adopted this year, and the only means of starving the insect is by allowing it nothing on which to feed. Filth is its food, and not only should the city streets be kept clear of it and the vacant lots not be made the convenient dumping grounds for every kind of refuse, but every corner of a closet or cellar or kitchen should be cleared of its insanitary accumulations.

The most productive breeding places of the disease carrying fly are garbage cans, cuspidors and manure. To keep a large city absolutely clean with respect to these is no small task, but by the interested and intelligent cooperation of the municipal authorities and the citizens generally the danger of disease from flies can be reduced to a minimum.

The Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) Mar 28, 1914

Spring’s Offering

April 3, 2012

The Dawn of Spring

By OLIVER RUTTER

There’s a swish, there’s a whirr —
A bright flashing of wings!
There’s a sweet woodland myrrh,
That caressingly clings,
and the oriole signals love’s tenderest call,
Delightfully increasing Spring’s charm over all.

Now down where rushes grow,
Thrilling blackbirds are heard;
And soft, while the winds blow,
An overture is allured,
Till our troubles vanish, when the song sparrow sings,
As we gather violets like the blue-bird’s wings.

In the morning or noon,
Where the bushes swing low,
Pretty pictures are strewn
On the brook’s mirrored flow,
If, dreamily, we wander in love’s tender plight,
Through the thorn-bushes blossoming, of pink and white.

Over here, over there,
The rivalry is keen,
Though the bidding seems fair,
There is beauty unseen.
Low ‘neath the brambles, near the sweet smelling sod,
Are beauties we may liken to the smile of God.

Far away, far away,
Through a dim, purpled haze,
Taunting clouds are at play,
With the sun’s warming rays,
Ah! what seems as pleasant as the years that are gone,
When the charms of Springtime we are gazing upon?

Life is dear, life is queer,
Life is stubbornly wrong;
Life is sere, life is drear,
When it might be a song!
Ah! who paints the flowers, and the beautiful skies?
Who causes the dead, in new glory to rise?

Morning Herald (Uniontown, Pennsylvania) Feb 28, 1936


Old Sol the Magician.

When April’s tears turn into snow
And nip spring in the bud,
Old Sol is anything but slow,
And soon its name is mud.

New Castle News (New Castle, Pennsylvania) Apr 3, 1912


Springs’s Offering.

We sweetly sing
The new laid egg.
Your fond attention
We would beg
As in a lay
Of praise we greet
The finest thing
On earth to eat.

Behold the modest
Little hen
That’s getting in
Its work again,
And making up
For what we lost
In days of laziness
And frost.

The days when all
There was on hand
Was the suspicious
Storage brand,
That, in responding
To our call,
Came scrambled if they came at all.

Now, wholesome, fresh
And at our taste,
We have them on
The table placed.
The number that
We eat unnamed,
So many, though
We are ashamed.

— Duncan M. Smith.

New Castle News (New Castle, Pennsylvania) Apr 6, 1909

It’s Curious!

It’s curious kind o’ weather when you come to make it out;
One minute winds is blowin’ all the blossoms roundabout,
An’ sunshine’s jes’ a-streamin’ from the blue and bendin’ skies,
An’ dreamin’ — jes’ a-dreamin’, like the light in woman’s eyes!

But jes’ when all is lovely, an’ the wind with music floats;
When the birds is makin’ merry an’ a-strainin’ of their throats;
An’ the sunshine’s like a picnic in the blossmes, pink an’ white,
A cyclone strikes the country an’ jes’ swallers all in sight!

It’s curious kind o’ weather — jes’ the worst you ever felt;
You don’t half git through freezin’ ‘fore the orler comes to melt!
An’ you can’t quite say it’s winter, an’ you ain’t half sure it’s spring;
So’ keep on with the whistlin’ an’ thank God for everything!

The Atlanta Constitution (Atlanta, Georgia) May 13, 1893

Spring Fever.

The time of year
Again is here
When wifey aims to make home neater,
And hubby knows,
When home he goes,
He’ll have to wield the carpet-beater.
With leaden feet

Along the street
He plods his way, sad-hearted, weary.
Well he doth know
That tale of woe
With wife’s n. g. — of such she’s leary.
Useless for him

A yarn to spin,
Pretending illness — can’t deceive her.
To him she’ll say,
In heartless way,
“Come off — it’s nothing but spring fever.”

New Castle News (New Castle, Pennsylvania) Mar 13, 1908

No Doubt About It Now.

Sunshine on the river —
Bird songs in the air!
Green leaves all a-quiver —
(Spring is mighty near!)

Reckless roses springing —
Brown bees here and there;
Lazy plowboy singing —
(Spring is mighty near!)

Easy to detect her —
Stormy skies or clear;
Easter bill collector —
(Certain spring is near!)

The Atlanta Constitution (Atlanta, Georgia) May 9, 1895

The Spring Affliction.

Oh, that blessed tired feeling
Which about the first of May
O’er the soul of man comes stealing
Like a burglar in a play,
Making him so fine and laze,
Kin almost to pure delight,
Calling up a vision hazy
Of a lake where fishes bite.

Winter with its weather bracing
Gave him energy and vim,
But spring has no trouble chasing
All those notions out of him.
When the birds begin to twitter,
Then in chaste and classic slang
He desires to be a quitter
And to let the work go hang.

He has tugged away like fury,
Buckled to it every day.
Now he things the judge and jury
Would prescribe a spell of play,
Would encourage him in slipping
From the busy haunts of men
And across the fields go tripping
Feeling almost young again.

Trading off the tired feeling
For the springy step of youth,
Finding nature’s gentle healing
More than advertised in truth,
Giving him an added vigor,
Keyed just right, not overdone,
Like the delicate hair trigger
On a forty dollar gun.

— Duncan M. Smith

New Castle News (New Castle, Pennsylvania) May 15, 1914

SPORT

The merry waves dance up and down and play,
Sport is granted to the sea;
Birds are the quiristers of the empty air,
Sport is never wanting there;
The ground doth smile at the spring’s flowery birth.
Sport is granted to the earth;
The fire its cheering flame on high doth rear,
Sport is never wanting there.
If all the elements, the earth, the sea,
Air, and firs, so merry be,
Why is man’s mirth so seldom and so small,
Who is compounded of them all?

— Abraham Cowley

The Oshkosh Northwestern (Oshkosh, Wisconsin) Mar 27, 1936

SPRINGTIME

One cloud a hue of lazylite
Flanked by spray of misty white
Gave way to sublimate of gray
A storm cloud hovered on the way.

Springtime, blythe and very gay,
Her banner throws athwart the sky
That she will not her claim deny
Cold winter must vacate and fly.

— M.W. Beebe, Black Wolf Point.

The Oshkosh Northwestern (Oshkosh, Wisconsin) Apr 1, 1938

The Generals, Buckner and Buckner

November 10, 2011

Eighty-eight, poor and living in a log cabin in Hart county, Kentucky — the cabin he was born in — General Simon Bolivar Buckner, Confederate commander, former governor of Kentucky and running mate of Palmer on the Gold Democrat ticket in 1896, swears he is the happiest man alive.

“The cabin is 103 years old,” he says, “I raise my own tobacco, have a fine mint bed and my old dog General wags his tail every time I come in sight. I have a fine spring just outside the cabin door — this water, a little mint and a little of Kentucky’s best spirits in conjunction would make anyone happy. I wouldn’t give up my log cabin home for a palace — Rockefeller or Vanderbilt couldn’t buy my cabin.”

New Castle News (New Castle, Pennsylvania) Dec 10, 1910


GEN. BUCKNER JOINS MAJORITY

*****
Death Ends Distinguished Career As Soldier and Political Leader

*****

LEXINGTON, Ky., Jan. 8. — General Simon Bolivar Buckner, former governor of Kentucky, and candidate for vice president on the gold democratic national ticket in 1896, died at his home tonight.

*****

General Simon Bolivar Buckner had a long and distinguished career as a soldier, having served in the Mexican and civil wars, in both of which he was promoted for bravery and soldierly qualities. He was born on a farm in Hart county, Kentucky, April 1, 1823, and graduated from the United States military academy in 1822. [1844]

During the Mexican war, he was brevetted for bravery at the battles of Contreras, Churubusco and Molino Del Rey. He remained with the army until 1855, when he resigned. When the civil war broke out he joined the confederate army with the rank of brigadier general. He was successively made major general and lieutenant general.

He was governor of Kentucky from 1887 to 1891, and served as a member of the Kentucky constitutional convention in 1891. After being a candidate for vice president on the gold democratic ticket in 1896, he retired to his farm in Hart county, but continued to take a lively interest in public affairs.

General Buckner had been in ill health, due to his advanced age, for about a year. He died at 9 o’clock tonight at his home, “Glen Lily,” near Munfordville.

The body will be buried in the state cemetery at Frankfort Saturday.

General Buckner was the last surviving lieutenant general of the confederacy.

Nevada State Journal (Reno, Nevada) Jan 9, 1914

GENERAL SIMON BOLIVAR BUCKNER

Times have changed, and so has the attitude of the Buckner family toward unconditional surrender. Lieut. Gen. Simon Bolivar Buckner today is doing a great job in leading our new Tenth army in Okinawa in its drive to force unconditional surrender upon Japan.

General Buckner is the son of Lieut. Gen. Simon Bolivar Buckner of the Confederate States of America, who was the first to be forced to yield to the “unconditional surrender” demands of U.S. Grant.

In February, 1862, General Buckner sent a note to Grant suggesting an armistice for the purpose of discussing the terms upon which he would surrender Fort Donellson, Tennessee, then under siege. Buckner and Grant had been classmates at West Point and Buckner once loaned Grant money to get home on vacation but despite this, Grant replied, “No terms except an unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted.”

The Lowell Sun (Lowell, Massachusetts) Apr 9, 1945

10TH AVENGES DEATH OF LEADER

*****

Gen. Buckner Killed in Okinawa Battle

*****

Death Comes Almost at Moment of Final Victory By His Tenth Army

Ironwood Daily Globe (Ironwood, Michigan) Jun 19, 1945

*****

More about General Buckner, Jr. at Remember the Deadeyes – In Honor of General Buckner

In The Attic with Wilbur D. Nesbit

June 27, 2011

Image by Janet Kruskanp.

I had originally planned to post this with the other “dolls in the attic” poem (see previous post) but after doing some  research on Wilbur D, Nesbit, I decided to separate the poems so I could include more about him and his work.

IN THE ATTIC.

Up in the attic where mother goes
is a trunk in a shadowed nook —
A trunk — and its lid she will oft unclose
As it were a precious book.
She kneels at its side on the attic boards
And tenderly, soft and slow,
She counts all the treasures she fondly hoards —
The things of the long ago.

A yellow dress, once the sheerest white
That shimmered in joyous pride —
She looks at it now with the girl’s delight,
That was hers when she stood a bride.
There is a ribbon of faded blue —
She keeps with the satin gown;
Buckles and lace — and a little shoe;
Sadly she lays that down.

One lock of hair that is golden still
With the gold of the morning sun;
Yes, and a dollie with frock and frill —
She lifts them all one by one.
She lifts them all to her gentle lips
Up there in the afternoon;
Sometimes the rain from the eave trough drips
Tears with her quavered croon.

Up in the attic where mother goes
is a trunk in a shadowed place —
A trunk — with the scent of a withered rose
On the satin and shoe and lace.
None of us touches its battered lid,
But safe in its niche it stays
Scared to all that her heart had his —
Gold of the other days.

— W.D. Nebsit in Chicago Tribune.

New Castle News ( New Castle, Pennsylvania) Oct 28, 1904

Wilbur D. Nebsit was also the author of An Alphabet of History, the FRANKLIN image above taken from the book, which can be viewed/read on the Open Library website. I linked the Google book version of this book in my The Unknown Blue and Gray post, which also includes his poem by the same name.

*  *  *  *  *

A very brief Masonic Bio can be found HERE. Some of his Freemason poetry can be found HERE.

Below are  some articles that give a little more insight:

Image from The Indianapolis Star – Apr 4, 1914

RACE DRAWS LARGE GROUP OF WRITERS

Scribes From Afar Arrive to Describe Speed Battle for Papers and Journals.

The 500-mile Motor Speedway race has drawn men from two continents, whose names are known to the world of letters. These men will relate the human interest tale of the struggle of men and steel machines against time and danger in the columns of publications throughout the world. Gellett Burgess is one of the many who will pen the history of the race.

Wilbur D. Nesbit, author of poems, comic operas and books, is another. He will write the story of the race for Harper’s Weekly….

The Indianapolis Star (Indianapolis, Indiana) May 30, 1912

CHICAGO HOOSIERS ELECT.

Wilbur D. Nesbit Made President of Indiana Society.

Wilbur D. Nesbit, the well-known bard, was elected president during his absence in New York….

The Indianapolis Star – Jan 17, 1912

*  *  *  *  *

I clipped this particle biographical sketch from a book on Ancestry.com:

Source Information:

Ancestry.com. Indiana and Indianans : a history of aboriginal and territorial Indiana and the century of statehood [database on-line]. Provo, UT: The Generations Network, Inc., 2005. Original data: Dunn, Jacob Piatt,. Indiana and Indianans : a history of aboriginal and territorial Indiana and the century of statehood. Chicago: American Historical Society, 1919.
Image from the Culver-Union Township Public Library websiteCulver Through the Years
*  *  *  *  *
The following poem by Wilbur D. Nesbit appeared in The Indianapolis Star as part of:
the remarkable sermon delivered by Wilbur D. Nesbit, the famous Hoosier writer, in the Mt. Vernon Methodist Episcopal pulpit at Baltimore last Sunday…
A handful of dust, that is blown by the wind
That is sporting with whatever thing it may find.
It goes swirling and whirling and scattering on
Till it puffs into nothingness — then it is gone —
A handful of dust.
It may be a king who of old held his rule
O’er a country forgotten — it may be his fool
Who had smiles on his lips and had tears in his heart;
But the king, or the fool; who may tell them apart
In a handful of dust?
It may be some man who was mighty and proud,
Or a beggar, who trembled and crept through the crowd;
Or a woman who laughed, or a woman who wept,
Or a miser — but centuries long have they slept
In a handful of dust.

It may be a rose that once burst into flame,
Or a maiden who blushed as she whispered a name
To its ruby-red heart — and her lips were as read —
But no one remembers the words that she said,
In this handful of dust.

A handful of dust — it is death, it is birth.
It is naught; it is all since the first day of earth;
It is life, it is love, it is laughter and tears —
And it holds all the mystery lost in the years —
A handful of dust.

The Indianapolis Star — Jun 15, 1913
Call of “30” for Poet
Wilbur D. Nesbit, vice-president of the Wm. H. Rankin and Company Advertising Agency, and an author of renown, died Saturday at the Iroquois hospital in Chicago, thirty minutes after he had collapsed on the street.
During his career, Nesbit had served as humorous writer on the old Inter-Ocean, the Chicago Tribune, Baltimore American and the Chicago Evening Post. In more recent years he had allied himself with an advertising agency, but was a frequent contributor to magazines and had acquired much fame as an after-dinner speaker. As a poet, he ranked with the best. One of his finest contributions, which will always endear his name to the patriotic people, was entitled “Your Flag and My Flag.” This poem appeared in the Baltimore American in 1902, and was circulated throughout the country during the World war. A verse will not be amiss at this time:
“Your flag and my flag,
And how it flies today,
In your land and my land
And half a world away!
Rose-red and blood -red
The stripes forever gleam;
Snow-white and soul-white
The good forefathers’ dream.”
Sheboygan Press (Sheboygan, Wisconsin) Aug 23, 1927
Famous Folk
Wilbur Dick Nesbit, the poet and journalist, whose first novel, “The Gentleman Ragman,” has just been published, was born in Xenia, O., in 1871. He began his career as printer and later worked as a reporter. His reputation has been won largely as a contributor of verse to magazines.
While Nesbit was finishing “The Gentleman Ragman” he was spending a few weeks in a country town in Indiana. He had sent nearly all of the revised manuscript to his publishers, but certain details of the completion of the plot had been the subject of discussion between himself and a friend connected with the publishing house.
One day a telegram for Nesbit was received at the village telegraph office. It read:
“What are you going to do about Annie Davis and Pinkney Sanger?”
Annie is the heroine of “The Gentleman Ragman;” Pinkney is the villain, if there is one in the book. The local telegraph operator personally delivered the message, and Nesbit wrote this reply:
“Will marry Annie Davis and shoot Pinkney Sanger as soon as I return to Chicago.”
The operator stared at Nesbit wonderingly when he read the message, but Nesbit did not fathom that stare until the morning when he took the train for home, when the village marshal stepped up and said meaningly:
“Mr. Nesbit, I would advise you, as an officer of the law, sir, not to do anything rash when you get to Chicago.”
Cambridge Jeffersonian (Cambridge, Ohio) Dec 20, 1906
The above poem is signed with Wilbur D. Nesbit‘s alternate nom de plumeJosh Wink. (see mention in below article.)
Bedford Gazette (Bedford, Pennsylvania) Apr 25, 1902

Des Moines Daily Leader (Des Moines, Iowa) Oct 13, 1901
*   *   *   *
RAY HIGGINS:
Cracker Barrel
WILBUR DICK NESBIT expounded a brand of patriotism that seems to have fallen out of fashion in the current age when draft dodgers become folk heroes and the American flag is publicly despoiled.
Born in Xenia Sept. 16, 1871, the son of a Civil War veteran and court bailiff here, he grew up in Cedarville where he learned to set type on the old Cedarville Herald in which paper his first wrtings appears.
After two years he went to an Anderson, Ind. papers as a reporter, then to the Muncie (Ind.) Star in a similar capacity. There his copy attracted the attention of John T. Brush, an Indianapolis clothing merchant, who put him in charge of his store advertising.
From there he joined the ad staff of the Indianapolis Journal and next became a feature writer for the Baltimore American under the nom de plume Josh Wind [k]. After three years he was lured to the staff of the Chicago Tribune where he conducted the column “A Line O’ Type Or Two” and then joined the Evening Post.
*   *   *
AFTER HE BECAME director of the copy staff for the Makin Advertising Co. he bought an interest in it and changed the name to Rankin Advertising Agency. HE co-authored the musical comedy “The Girl of My Dreams” and turned out reams of poetry in some of which he collaborated with cartoonist Clare Briggs.
His collection, “Trail to Boyland,” reminisced about Greene County and Cedarville in the pastoral patern of James Whitcomb Riley. He also published “After Dinner Speeches and How to Make Them,” “Sermons in Song,” and “Poems of Homely Philosophy.” His “Your Flag and My Flag” was recited in most school classrooms.
Nesbit died Aug. 20, 1927. Recently his friend and admirer, ex-Cedarvillian, Fred F. Marshall, came up with his timely and appropriate poem entitled “The U.S.A.,” which follows:
There’s them that wants to get us skeered
By tellin’ us o’ things they feared.
They say we’re goin’ to th’ dogs,
Th’ gov’nment has skipped some cogs
An’ that ef we don’t trust to them
Our futur’ wont be worth a dem!
But I want to say
Th’ U.S.A.
Ain’t figgerin’ to run that way.
I’ve noticed things fer many years;
I’ve seen these men arousin’ cheers —
These high-hat men with long-tail coats
That tells us how to cast our votes,
I’ve noticed, too, their idees is
That votin’s all the people’s biz
But I want to say
Th’ U.S.A.
Ain’t only jest election day.

I’ve seen ’em lift their trimblin’ arm
An do their p’intin’ with alarm
Afore election! An’ I’ve seen
How they don’t do much work between
Elections! Seem to save their brains
For workin’ durin’ th’ campaigns
An’ I want to say
The U.S.A.
Don’t give them fellers its O.K.

There’s one or two that I wont name
That keeps a firm hand-holt on Fame
By stormin’ up an’ down the road
A-tellin’ us what long we’ve knowed
That is, they rise to heights sublime
Along about election time
Yit I want to say
The U.S.A.
Ain’t figured yit to turn their way.

It ain’t th’ men that tells our sins
That almost al’ays sometimes wins —
Its them that rolls their sleeves an’ helps
While these yere talkin’ humans yelps
That makes us know our native land
Has got a craw that’s full o’ sand
An’ makes us say
The U.S.A
Is settin’ tight an’ here to stay!

Xenia Daily Gazette (Xenia, Ohio)  Nov 2, 1972

Dickens, the Pirate

January 28, 2011

GREAT WRITER A REAL BOY

Charles Dickens, Like the Average Youngster, Had His Dreams of Becoming a Pirate.


Image from Shorpy.

The English boys of years ago — there never was any doubt as to American boys of that or any other period before or after — had romantic ideas as to becoming ruthless robbers by land or pirates on the high seas is shown by a recently discovered speech made by Charles Dickens and reported in the London Times of April 13, 1864, from which the following quotation from the London Dickensonian is taken: “Mr. Dickens said his first recollections of the northwest of London (this was in 1824, when he was twelve years old), were connected with a certain waste plot of ground used almost exclusively for beating carpets. The only ornaments of the locality, were a piece of stagnant water, a few straggling docks and some stunted greens.

With it, however, was associated the romantic story of the ‘Field of the Forty Footsteps,’ according to which a duel had been fought there between two brothers, the forty dreadful paces over which the victor pursued his victim being marked by the withering up of the grass in forty distinct places. Dickens had often gone there, he said, accompanied by an adventurous young Englishman, aged eleven, with whom he had intended going to the Spanish Main as soon as ever they could amass sufficient wealth to buy a cutlass and a rifle.”

The University of London afterward was erected on this site. Dickens as a boy in April, 1827, saw the cornerstone laid and “the ceremony of laying the first stone of a new and splendid public building” of which Mr. Pecksniff was the architect, as narrated in “Martin Chuzzlewit,” was a reminiscence of this event.

Suburbanite Economist (Chicago, Illinois) Jan 23, 1914

Title: Coming out; and The field of the Forty Footsteps.
Authors: Jane Porter, Anna Maria Porter
Published: 1828
Original from: Oxford University

Google book LINK

Why Catsup? It’s Ketchup

January 28, 2011

Image from Grow & Resist.

When I first ran across this article for Ohio Ketchup, I had no idea that “ketchup” was ever anything except the red stuff that comes in a bottle.

Seasonable Recipes.

OHIO KETCHUP. — The Buckeyes are in the habit of making a certain kind of ketchup which I have found no where else, and have, therefore, taken the liberty to call it “The Ohio Ketchup.” Is is an article that should be found in every household. You may pardon me for not attempting to give you an idea of its deliciousness, because my pen cannot do justice to the subject. The season will soon be here when this “happy combination of vegetables” can very easily be made. I will therefore transcribe the receipt for the benefit of your readers: Take about three dozen full grown cucumbers, and eight white onions. Peel the cucumbers and onions; then chop them as finely as possible; then sprinkle upon them three-quarters of a pint of fine table salt, then put the whole into a sieve and let it drain for eight hours; then take a tea cup-full of mustard seed, half a cup of ground black pepper, and mix these well with the cucumbers and onions; then put the whole into a stone jar and fill up with the strongest vinegar and close tightly. In three days it will be fit for use, and will keep for years.

Let all your readers give the Ohio Ketchup a fair trial, and you and I will receive sixty thousand thanks for letting them into the secret of making it.

TO PRESERVE TOMATOS. — The following has been handed to us as the receipt of a good housewife for preserving or “curing” tomatoes so effectually that they may be brought out at any time between the seasons “good as new,” with precisely the same flavor of the original article; Get sound tomatoes, peal them, and prepare just the same as for cooking, squeeze them as fine as possible, put them into a kettle, bring them to a boil, season with pepper and salt; then put them in stone jugs, taken directly from water in which they (the jugs) have been boiled. — Seal the jugs immediately, and keep them in a cool place.

Watertown Chronicle (Watertown, Wisconsin) Sep 4, 1850

NOTE: The Republic Compiler (Gettysburg, PA) Jul 29, 1850,  also carried this article and  included its author as E.B.R. Springfield, Clarke co., Ohio, 1850.

TOMATO KETCHUP. — The following, from long experience, we know to be the best receipt extant for making tomato ketchup.
Take one bushel of tomatoes, and boil them until they are soft. Squeeze them through a fine wire sive, and add —

Half a gallon of vinegar,
One pint and a half of salt,
Two ounces of cloves,
Quarter of a pound of allspice,
Three ounces of cayenne pepper,
Three table-spoonful of black pepper,
Five heads of garlic, skinned and seperated.

Mix together and boil about three hours, or until reduced to about one-half. Then bottle without straining.

Daily Commercial Register (Sandusky, Ohio) Sep 9, 1852

** Bushel: In dry measurements, equals 8 gallons or 32 quarts of a commodity. Associated Content from Yahoo

Tomato Catsup — Tomato Sauce.

As the season is drawing near for all good housekeepers to commence putting up different kinds of preserves, pickles, &c., we copy the following recipe from the August number of the [American Agriculturist] for making tomato catsup and sauce: “The basis of tomato catsup, or ketchup, is the pulp of ripe tomatoes. Many defer making catsup until late in the season, when the cool nights cause the fruit to ripen slowly, and it may be t is gathered hurriedly for fear of a frost. The late fruit does not yield so rich a pulp as that gathered in its prime.

The fruit should have all green portions cut out, and be stewed gently until thoroughly cooked. The pulp is then to be separated from the skins, by rubbing through a wire sieve so fine as to retain the seeds. The liquor thus obtained is to be evaporated to a thick pulp, over a slow fire, and should be stirred to prevent scorching. The degree of evaporation will depend upon how thick it is desired to have the catsup. We prefer to make it so that it will just poor freely from the bottle. We observe no regular rule in flavoring. Use sufficient salt. Season with cloves, allspice, and mace, bruised and tied in a cloth, and boiled in the pulp; add a small quantity of powdered cayenne.

Some add the spices ground fine, directly to the pulp. A clove of garlic, bruised and tied in a cloth, to be boiled with the spices, imparts a delicious flavor. Some evaporate the pulp to a greater thickness than is needed, and then thin with vinegar or with wine. An excellent and useful tomato sauce may be made by preparing the pulp, but adding no spices, and putting it in small bottles while hot, corking securely and sealing. If desired, the sauce may be salted before bottling, but this is not essential. To add to soups, stews, sauces and made dishes, a sauce thus prepared is an excellent substitute for the fresh fruit. It should be put in small bottles containing as much as will be wanted at once, as it will not keep long after opening.

The Heral and Torch Light (Hagerstown, Maryland) Aug 2, 1882

— Old Virginia Ketchup. — Take one peck of green tomatoes, half a peck of white onions, three ounces of white mustard seed, one ounce each of allspice and cloves, half a pint of mixed mustard, an ounce of black pepper and celery seed each, and one pound of brown sugar. Chop the tomatoes and onions, sprinkle with salt and let stand three hours; drain the water off; put in a preserve kettle with the other ingredients. Cover with vinegar, and set on the fire to boil slowly for one hour.

— Ladies’ Home Journal.

The Wellsboro Gazette (Wellsboro, Pennsylvania Sep 5, 1895

** Peck: Equivalent of 2 gallons of dry weight, or 10 to 14 pounds.  Associated Content from Yahoo

Image from the Local Food Local Farms Local Sustainability website.

Ketchup.

Why catsup? Nearly every bottle which comes from a public manufacturer is emblazened with that spelling. Wrong Ketchup is the word. It is a corruption of the Japanese word kitjap, which is a condiment somewhat similar to soy. It is a pick me up, a stirrer of the digestive organs, a katch me up, and hence its application to the mingling of tomatoes and spices, whose name it should bear.

— Philadelphia Times.

North Adams Transcript (North Adams, Massachusetts) Jan 15, 1896

NOTE: At the link for the mushroom ketchup (scroll down,) it says that Ketchup came from a Chinese word, rather than Japanese.

Image from the Simple Bites website – Real Food for the Family TableCanning 101 Home Canned Tomatoes

TO MAKE KETCHUP.

When you cut up the tomatoes remove that part of pulp which holds the seeds, as that produced only some of the watery fluid which afterward must be got rid of. Then cook the tomatoes until perfectly soft and strain like this: Take a pan sieve; place over a two gallon crock, the top of which is a little smaller than the sieve. Set the crock in a dishpan. When you pour the hot tomatoes in the sieve, the thinnest liquid will run through the edge which extends over the crock, into the pan, and you can throw all that liquid away, which otherwise would have to be boiled away. Then with a spoon, and afterward with your hands, rub the tomatoes through the sieve. In half the time the ketchup is better and thicker than ever. When it doesn’t cook too long, the ketchup also is lighter in color. This fact, and because I tie the spices in a bag, makes it as bright as that you buy.

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Jul 1, 1907

Sauce for Chops.

Pound fine an ounce of black pepper and half an ounce of allspice, with an ounce of salt, and a half ounce of scraped horseradish and the same of shalots peeled and quartered; put these ingredients into a pint of mushroom ketchup or walnut pickle; let them steep for a fortnight and then strain it. A teaspoonful or two of this is generally an acceptable addition, mixed with the gravy usually sent up for chops and steaks; or added to thick melted butter.

Another delightful sauce for chops is made by taking two wineglasses of port and two of walnut pickle; four of mushroom ketchup; half a dozen anchovies pounded, and a like number of shalots sliced and pounded; a tablespoonful of soy and half a drachm of Cayenne pepper; let them simmer gently for ten minutes; then strain, and when cold put into bottles, well corked and sealed over. It will keep for a considerable time.

Suburbanite Economist (Chicago, Illinois) Jan 23, 1914

American Pickles for Queen Victoria.

Lusden & Gibson, grocers, of Aberdeen, Scotland, regularly supply Balmoral Castle, the Queen’s residence, with Heinz’s sweet pickles, tomato soup, pickled onions, ketchup and chutney. The goods are supplied through H.J. Heinz Company’s London Branch.

— New York Sun.

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Mar 1, 1899

T.M. Shallenberger comes to the defense of labor as an institution. The subject is one that admits of endless discussion, without arriving anywhere. If a man like to work, it is entirely proper that he should be given the privilege; but it not fair that people who detest work are compelled to work if they would be considered respectable. It  would be just as reasonable to compel a man to play ball, although he abhors the game.

There is something wrong with the man who really enjoys working: he is not balanced right; the busy bee is a sample worker; it sweats around all day, going three or four miles to get raw material that could be obtained just as well a few yards from the hive.

Ketchup is another worker; when it is bottled, instead of taking things easy, it begins to work and gets sour and spoiled. That is the way with most people who work; they get sour and spoiled.

We are arranging to organize a new political party, composed of non-workers. The only toll permitted will be the working of candidates for cigars, which is a pleasing and profitable employment.

The Nebraska State Journal (Lincoln, Nebraska) Aug 13, 1899

I wonder if this works:

Household Hints

WHEN cooking ketchup, etc., try putting a few marbles into the kettle to prevent burning. The heat will keep the marbles rolling and prevent the stuff from sticking to the kettle.

Appleton Post Crescent (Appleton, Wisconsin) Jun 9, 1922

When the slow eater calls for ketchup, he means business.

–[N.O. Picayune.

The Mountain Democrat (Placerville, California Jun 19, 1880

When Casey’s small son was asked by the teacher to give the plural of tomato, he promptly answered: “Ketchup, mem.”

Suburbanite Economist (Chicago, Illinois) Jul 4, 1913

The following poems aren’t  ABOUT ketchup, but the do mention it. I have bolded ketchup:

Image from the USDA National Agricultural Library

A Sunnit to the Big Ox

Composed while standin within 2 feet of Him, and a Tuchin’ of Him now and then.

All hale! thou mighty annimil–all hale!
You are 4 thousand pounds, and am purty wel
Perporshund, thou tremenjos boveen nuggit!
I wonder how big you was wen you
Wos little, and if yure muther wud no you now
That you’ve grone so long, and thick, and phat;
Or if yure father would rekognize his ofspring
And his kaff, thou elefanteen quodrupid!
I wonder if it hurts you mutch to be so big,
And if you grode it in a month or so.
I spose wen you wos young tha didn’t gin
You skim milk but all the kreme you kud stuff
Into your little stummick, jest to see
How big yude gro; and afterward tha no doubt
Fed you on otes and ha and sich like,
With perhaps an occasional punkin or squosh!
In all probability yu don’t no yure enny
Bigger than a small kaff; for if you did,

Yude brake down fences and switch your tail,
And rush around, and hook, and beller,
And run over fowkes, thou orful beast
O, what a lot of mince pize yude maik,
And sassengers, and your tale,
Whitch kan’t wa fur from phorty pounds,
Wud maik nigh unto a barrel of ox-tail soop,
And cudn’t a heep of stakes be cut oph yu,
Whitch, with salt and pepper and termater
Ketchup, wouldn’t be bad to taik.
Thou grate and glorious inseckt!
But I must klose, O most prodijus reptile!
And for mi admirashun of yu, when yu di,
I’le rite a node unto yore peddy and remanes,
Pernouncin’ yu the largest of yure race;
And as I don’t expect to have a half a dollar
Agin to spare for to pa to look at yu, and as
I ain’t a ded head, I will sa, farewell.

LeRoy Gazette (LeRoy, New York) Apr 20, 1859

CINTHY ANN’S NEW HOUSE.

I built a house for Cinty Ann — an made it red and rich,
An rigged it up with cuperlows an lightnin rods and sich,
An built a wide piazzer roun ware she could set and sew,
An take her knittin work an gab with ole Kerturah Snow.

An Cinthy Ann was happy fer about a week or so,
And then she foun the chimbley draft wus workin ruther slow;
For the smoke came in her kitchen an she couldn’t bake her pies,
An her pudd’n only sizzled, an her johnny cake wouldn’t rise.

An soon she foun her buttry wuz too small to hol her stuff,
For apple sass and blackb’ry jell it wasn’t large enough,
An all her things were scrooched right in ez tight ez she could cram,
Her pickles, an her ketchup, an her elderberry jam.

An then a dog day storm came on an drizzled for a week,
An the roof around the chimney had to go an spring a leak,
An mildewed four er my white shirts thet she hed made an biled,
An her winter muff was rooined and her weddin dress was spiled.

An then sez I to Cinthy, w’en she sut down to cry,
“Ther ain’t no home upon this side the mansions in the sky
But what has some leak in the roof, some trouble in the flue,
Some mis’ble cluttered buttry” — an poor Cinthy said “Boo hoo!”

We build our pooty houses that are ternal fine to see,
An we stick’em up with cuperlows and sich like filigree,
An in our dreams they’re fair ez heaven, but let us wait a week,
This pooty palace of our dreams is sure to spring a leak.

— S.W. Foss in Yankee Blade.

Edwardsville Intelligencer (Edwardsville, Illinois) Sep 14, 1892

Joseph E. Baker: Coloring the Editorial Pages of the Oakland Tribune

August 31, 2010

Roosevelt Bear Hunt (Image on Picassa by Eduard)

I ran across this humorous critique of Joseph E. Baker’s poem, “Teddy in the Lowlands, Low,” by a rival newspaper editor, while searching for articles about grasshoppers. Fortunately, I was also able to find the poem being referenced. After noticing Mr. Baker’s use of the “n” word, I did a little more searching to see what other colorful things he may have written while working for the Oakland Tribune.

Baker as Near-Poet

Our great and esteemed friend Joseph E. Baker of the Oakland Tribune, swayed undoubtedly by the applause that has greeted George Sterling and other residents of the Athens of the Pacific who have from time to time emulated Mr. Silas Wegg and have dropped into poetry, has fetched a swat at verse himself and in the Tribune of Tuesday we find him doing stunts with the English language, rhyme, rhythm and other things in an article denominated “Teddy, in the Lowlands, Low.”

At first blush we were inclined to exclaim: “Ah, that mine enemy should write a book.” But on second thoughts, it appears that it would be better to say: “Oh, that Joe Baker hadn’t done it.”

Joseph, you’re rhyming ear is all agley. For instance, “gale” doesn’t rhyme with “sails” even in the classic shades of Berkeley, nor can it be truly said that “fermenti” and “spermaceti” are allowable. Doubtless, those grave and reverend hymn-writers who made “grasshopper” and “caterpillar” rhyme in their poetic version of the Psalms were excusable, but Joseph, you never wrote those hymns, old in Sin as you are.

And again, why did you do it? Why cease in your earnest efforts to remove the brand from the prey of Rudolph Spreckels to wade through those dark lagoons, magnolia- scented.

“Where the crusty alligator
“Snoozes lazily in the sun,
“In the Louisiana lowlands, low,”

as you express it? Wouldn’t it have been better to sit lazily back in the Tribune editorial chair and gibe and jeer at the gentry across the bay?

You’ll regret it, too. There will be days when you will wish that you had been buried deep beneath the ooze of the Louisiana lowlands, four times as low as now you dream of, for WE SHALL PASTE THAT POEM IN OUR SCRAP-BOOK and draw on its contents from time to time.

Oh, what did you do it for?

Nevada State Journal (Reno, Nevada) Oct 10, 1907

This poem was published in the Oakland Tribune on October 8, 1907.

WHEN TEDDY ROOSEVELT WENT BEAR HUNTING IN LOUISIANA By Robert L. Moncrief, provides a detailed account of the bear hunt. Definitely worth reading.  ROOTSWEB LINK

To read more, check out the article,  The Great (Teddy) Bear Hunt .

The blog, East Carroll Parish, Louisiana Genealogy provides pictures and information about the other men on the bear hunt.

Back to Joseph E. Baker, the “poet”  and editorial writer.   He seems to have been  a real mover and shaker in the Oakland area. As a young man,  he served in the Confederate Army during the Civil War. You can read more about him  HERE, in this Alameda County Biography.

Below is Mr. Baker’s editorial on the “Indian/Hindu” problem. It is in several pieces because it took up the whole upper half of a newspaper page!

Wow, “human locust,” “slaves of slaves,” “expect to be treated like dogs.”  Mr. Baker certainly had a way with words!

Upon Joseph E. Baker’s death, the Oakland Tribune ran several days worth of articles about him, quoting  the fond remembrances of friends and associates. The newspaper also stated he was an ardent DEMOCRAT.