Posts Tagged ‘1919’

The Dignity of Labor – The Day and the Times

September 3, 2012

Anaconda Standard (Anaconda, Montana) Sep 4, 1910

THE DAY AND THE TIMES.

Never in the history of this holiday has it come in a time so distracted and torn with industrial trouble. Labor day this year finds strikes in every part of the country, with greater upheavals brewing and vastly worse conditions threatened. It is an evil ferment. The world has just emerged from the greatest and most destructive war of all time and of everything the world today stands in need there is not enough. The costs of living here and everywhere are as a consequence at unprecedented levels. Every interference with production, every trammel upon distribution, every obstruction to commerce can have no effect but to give fresh impulse to the ascent of prices.

In this country a widespread strike in the steel and iron industry threatens to inflict practically all industry save agriculture with a paralysis from which everybody will suffer. Farther in the foreground looms the dire possibilities of a general railway strike that once launched can spell but calamity for every interest and every person. No living head in the land can wholly escape some touch of that blight. A fortnight’s tie-up of transportation will see the county stricken to idleness, hunger stalking through  the land and disorder fomenting on every side. This is no picture conjured by idle fancy. The railroads must keep things moving or there can be neither work nor wages, neither food nor fuel, and starving, freezing millions will create a ferment out of which anarchy will not be slow to rise hideously. There can be no temporizing with the question of transportation or no transportation.

Everybody suffers from abnormal conditions. Labor — meaning, that is, the unions — is suffering no more than other classes and varieties of humans who earn what they must have to live and much less than most of them. Striking to advance wages or to impose conditions simply serves to make evil conditions more acute. The need is to find the way to make the cost of living more tolerable and the means by which alone that can be done is to increase production of everything whereof there is a shortage in the world. Drives against profiteers and profiteering may here and there effect some relief, but it will be neither general nor great in degree. There can be no thorough relief in which everybody may share until something like normal conditions are restored and nothing will contribute so much to that consummation as that everybody shall remain at work, do his best and permit on every hand that the best be done.

It is a time for all labor everywhere — organized and unorganized, manual toilers and brain workers, every sort upon whose effort depends in some measure the moving of the essential affairs of the world — to keep a clear head, a stout heart and a spirit of readiness to work together and steadfastly until it has at length worked out the problem of the times. Bolshevism, socialism or any ism, cult or lunacy will not overcome the world’s shortage of necessaries. Only work can do that and the more there are who will stick to the job of producing the sooner will shortage be overcome and conditions reduced to normal. Wild-eyed radicalism will not add a peck of grain nor a pound of beef to the world’s short store. The steadfast industry of all everywhere who are able to produce something needed can pull this old world out of the hole and by no force other can it be done.

Fort Wayne Sentinel (Fort Wayne, Indiana) Sep 1, 1919

Remembering Caraway Cookies

July 27, 2012

Image from Attic Paper

AUNT LUCINDA’S COOKIES.

Oh, baker, you haven’t in all your shop,
A cookie fit to be tried,
For the art of making them came to a stop
When my Aunt Lucinda died.
I can see her yet with her sleeves uprolled,
As I watched her mix and knead
The flour and eggs with their yolks of gold,
The butter and sugar, just all athey’ll hold,
And spice them with caraway seed.

Oh, that caraway seed! I see the nook
Where it grew by the garden wall;
And just below is the little brook
With the laughing waterfall.
Beyond are the meadows, sweet and fair
And flecked with the sun and shade;
And all the beauties of earth and air
Were in those cookies so rich and rare,
My Aunt Lucinda made.

So, add one more to the world’s lost arts,
For the cookies you made are sad,
And they haven’t the power to stir our hearts
That Aunt Lucinda’s had;
For I see her yet, with sleeves uprolled;
And I watch her mix and knead
The flour and eggs, with their yolks of gold,
The butter and sugar, just all they’ll hold
And spice them with caraway seed.

— Nixon Waterman.

The Nebraska State Journal (Lincoln, Nebraska) Dec 29, 1900

Image from Homemade Dessert Recipes

Longing.

O, for the meadow-lands, warm and sweet,
Where the tall grass whispers the whole day long,
And the meadow lark on the old rail fence
Floods all the silence with exquisite song;
To lie on the south hill slope and dream —
O, wonderful dreams that never come true;
Then home to the kitchen, cool and wide,
Where grandma’s caraway cookies grew.

O, heart of mine, ’tis a weary way
From the city’s streets to the meadows wide,
From the clearer vision of manhood’s years
To youth’s sweet dreams on the south hillside;
So far from the ways that bruise the feet
To the grassy paths that my childhood knew,
From crowding walls to the kitchen wide
Where grandma’s caraway cookies grew.

— Florence A. Jones, in Good Housekeeping.

Daily Republican (Decatur, Illinois) Jul 27, 1899

Here are several Caraway Cookie recipes from various newspapers – published from 1891 – 1981:

The Mountain Democrat (Placerville, California) Jul 4, 1891

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For the Nutmeg lovers:

The Fitchburg Sentinel (Fitchburg, Massachusetts) May 12, 1898

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The Wellsboro Agitator (Wellsboro, Pennsylvania) Aug 24, 1910

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This one gives the option of using the newfangled “butterine”:

Lincoln Daily News (Lincoln Nebraska) Jan 17, 1919

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This holiday recipe uses rose water and rose-flavored icing:

Hamilton Daily News (Hamilton, Ohio) Dec 2, 1926

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For leaf-shaped cookies:

San Antonio Light (San Antonio, Texas) May 17, 1936

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This special family recipe includes honey and English walnuts:

The Maryville Daily Forum (Maryville, Missouri) Sep 8, 1941

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And finally, this “modern” recipe (1981) from the American Rose Society includes rose syrup:

The Mountain Democrat (Placerville, California) Nov 11, 1981

Doughnuts for Doughboys

June 1, 2012

DOUGHNUTS FOR DOUGHBOYS

Of course you’re planning a party for the boy home on a furlough and you will want to serve the food he likes best. Put doughnuts at the top of the list for at canteens they are first choice.

Here are doughnuts that will top any your doughboy ever tasted. Light as a feather, moist, tender, deliciously spicy pumpkin doughnuts. Sugar a few for the folks with a sweet tooth and serve wedges of cheese for added goodness. Make them often for the family, too.

Try this new way of frying doughnuts. See how light and tender they are — how delicate tasting. There’s no unpleasant smell or smoke, and foods fried the

Spry way are so digestible even the children can eat them. Will they love that pumpkin flavor, too!

Evening Standard (Uniontown, Pennsylvania) Oct 23, 1942

The doughnut has been removed from the list of indigestibles by the Chicago school of domestic science. Those who have been forced to take to their beds after eating them in the past, will now be able to partake in safety.

The Daily Herald (Chicago, Illinois) Jul 1, 1910

New York Times – Chicago Tribune Leased Wire.

CHICAGO. May 7. — Any housewife who things she may have unexpected guests — say, about 600 of them and mostly male — will do well to cut out and paste in her cook book “Ma” Burdick’s tested recipe for doughnuts.

“Pa” and “Ma” Burdick, the doughnut king and queen of the Salvation Army, reached Chicago yesterday, after nearly two years of service overseas — two years of work for the American doughboys.

“What’s the most important thing in making doughnuts?” “Ma” was asked.

“Speed, she replied. Then she gave her recipe.

“It’s for six hundred,” she said, “but I guess you can divide it.”

Here it is:

Salvation Doughnuts.
Twelve quarts of flour.
Six quarts sugar.
Twenty-four tablespoonsful baking powder.
Three teaspoonsful salt.
Three quarts milk.
Fry in deep fat.

“The secret’s in the mixing,” said “Ma.”

“Ma” Burdick’s “shrapnel cake” was another favorite with the boys.

Here is the recipe:

Shrapnel Cake.
(Three pieces.)
Two large cups sugar.
One cup molasses.
Two cups milk.
One cup strong black coffee.
Three heaping teaspoonsful cinnamon.
One heaping teaspoonful cloves.
One teaspoonful salt.
One teaspoonful baking powder.
Two large cups raisins (the shrapnel).
Flour to make a stiff batter.

The famous flapjacks were made in the following manner:

Fifty Flapjacks

One quart flour.
Two heaping teaspoons baking powder.
One teaspoon salt.
Milk to make a soft batter. Beat until light.

San Antonio Evening News (San Antonio, Texas) May 7, 1919

Hot, tasty doughnuts and a cup of steaming, fresh coffee really hit the spot these damp, cold days in England .   .   . and especially for two Iowa doughboys who know the Red Cross Iowa clubmobile was made possible through contributions by residents of their own state.

Once a week the club-kitchen on wheels drops in at an aerial reconnaissance station with “doughnuts for doughboys.” When it does, Cpl. Clyde Olsen, left, and Pfc. Carl C. Larsen, right, of Forest City, Ia., are among the first to welcome it and its two comely attendants, Miss Leo Lindsley of Fallons, Neb., and Mrs. Georgette Hayes of Middletown, N.J.

Corporal Olsen, a radio operator with a Station Complement squadron, assisted his father on his farm near Missouri Valley, Ia., before he entered the army May 29, 1942. He is the husband of Lucille Craig Olsen, 1 11 Stutsman street, Council Bluffs, and a son of Mr. and Mrs. John H. Olson, RFD No. 2, Missouri Valley.

Council Bluffs Nonpareil (Council Bluffs, Iowa) Nov 17, 1943

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Sep 21, 1927

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The Chronicle Telegram (Elyria, Ohio) Oct 11, 1926

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By the way, it’s National Doughnut Day.

No Excuse — Whupp-ee!

May 23, 2012

Image from the Skagit River Journal

No Excuse.

American Traveler.

A quiet looking man went into a saloon remarking to the bar-tender:

“I would like very much to have a drink. I haven’t any money, and it is unnecessary to make a promise.”

“Are you sick?”

“No, sir.”

“Got a pain in your stomach?”

“No, my stomach is all right.”

“Haven’t got the rheumatism?”

“No, sir.”

“Toothache?”

“No.”

“Been disappointed in anything?”

“No, sir.”

“Here, sir, allow me to make you a present of a fine bottle of whiskey. You are the only man I ever saw who makes no excuse for drinking. Whenever you want anything come around,” and he turned away to wait on a man who was suffering with neuralgia.

The Landmark (Statesville, North Carolina) May 11, 1883

*****

*****

Lima News (Lima, Ohio) May 20, 1919

Town’s Lure and the Landlubber’s Chantey

November 13, 2011

In 1921, James Stuart Montgomery, according to his passport application, was working for H.D. Senat Advertising in Pennsylvania. Evidently, advertising paid better than writing poetry.

Here are two more poems from Mr. Montgomery, aka – the Finger-Print Poet:

Town’s Lure

Ah, the country’s cruel quiet
And the biting gnawing pain
Of its tireless small voices,
As they hammer on my brain —
How they hammer, hammer, hammer
On my brain, brain, brain —
Oh, the cruel rustic quiet —
I am off for town again.

Oh, the restless restful music,
With its soothing peaceful beat
Of a human mill race rushing,
Foaming through a narrow street.
Hear the slither, slither, slither
Of their feet, feet, feet,
Sniff the Town’s sweet homely stenches,
While she’s basking in the heat.

What willow shaded streamlet’s
Half so beautiful to me
As this dirty, sluggish river,
Rolling sullenly to sea,
With the rusty red old trampers
Dropping down past Liberty,
and the stately, steady liners
Creeping silently to sea?

Oh, the laughing lotus seekers,
Of these mad Arabian Nights,
With their dainty silken houris,
And their everchanging sights —
A-jeweled and embeautied
By the lights, lights, lights,
That gaze on them, unwinking,
From the star encrusted heights.

I would seek Town’s wanton kisses,
Though behind them lurked the knife.
She’s as lovely as a dream girl,
Wicked as a faithless wife —
She’s a devil’s broth of vileness,
Hate and greed, deceit and strife —
She is good and she is evil,
But she’s life, life, life.

(Copyright, 1919, by Bell Syndicate, Inc.)

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Oct 5, 1919

The Landlubber’s Chantey
(As he gazes from his office window at a ship clearing for the open sea.)

Here I drone in this human hive,
Blow, ye sirens, blow!
and three times eight are twenty-five
Blow, ye sirens, blow!
Blue Peter snaps the flutters wide,
The dripping hawser slaps her side,
She’s warping out on the turning tide!
Blow, ye sirens, blow.

Three and four and one make nine —
Roll, ye combers, roll.
The air is sharp with windswept brine,
Roll, ye combers, roll.
She’s dropped the last low line of shore,
The furrowed seas stretch out before —
Then thousand miles to Singapore!
Roll, ye combers, roll!

Lawless days and thirsty knives.
Roar, ye monsoons, roar!
Sudden ends to rum wrecked lives,
Roar, ye monsoons, roar!
On sunken reefs a gray sea moans
Of missing ships and dead men’s bones —
Oh, blast those jangling telephones!
Roar, ye monsoons, roar!

Debit Smith and credit Ross —
Sigh, ye Southern seas.
Brightly burns the starry cross —
Sigh, ye Southern seas.
A breeze with spices laden down;
A Venus done in ivory brown
Gleams through her sketchy cotton gown.
Sigh, ye Southern seas.

Where Christians loaf and heathens sweat,
Heave, ye rollers, heave!
There’s life to live and gold to get.
Heave, ye rollers, heave!
Under the ocean’s sunlit green
Are pearls to grace an Eastern queen —
And eight and nine are seventeen.
Heave, ye rollers, heave!

(Copyright, 1919, by Bell Syndicate, Inc.)

Oakland Tribune, (Oakland, California) Oct 5, 1919

The Finger-Print Poet

November 12, 2011

NEWS!

A MURDER in the tenderloin,
An eminent statesman’s views,
A scandal breaks in the avenue,
It’s news, all news, big news!
A hurried dash for a subway train,
Some feverish pencil jots—
The public must have its morning thrill
Over its coffee pots.

A lone man battling Russian snows,
Another, the desert’s thirst—
Each fired by thoughts of a record “beat”
If he gets on the wire first,
With a story the harried cable clerk
Shall hurl on—dot by dash—
The public reads of the wide, wide world
Along with its breakfast hash.

Battle of typewriters, driven hard,
And crash of the linotypes,
Maddening click of the telegraph,
And the fog from the reeking pipes!
The grueling race by flesh and blood
‘Gainst Time’s unflagging legs—
The public must have its news served hot
And fresh as its breakfast eggs.

One last wild rush, and the presses start
Their rumble and roar overhead;
A stretch, a yawn and a heartfelt sigh—
The paper’s been “put to bed.”
Few of us know what each line has cost,
Nor ask how the price is paid—
We only know that the public wants
Its news with its marmalade.

(Copyright, 1919, by Bell Syndicate, Inc.)

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Nov 2, 1919

The Mysterious Poet

James Stuart Montgomery!! He is the poet of the finger-prints. He revealed his identity to New York publishers simultaneously with an effort to trace his finger-prints in the War Department at Washington.

The mysterious Finger-Print poet was born in Rome, Ga., in 1890. He was educated at the University of Georgia and the University of Pennsylvania, where he graduated in 1911. In 1917 he attended the first officers’ training camp at Fort Niagara, N.Y., and was commissioned a first lieutenant. After being assigned to the 316th Infantry, 79th Division, he was promoted to captain and appointed personnel officer and assistant to the regimental adjutant.

On September 30, 1918, he was wounded while serving with his regiment at Montafuson, where some of the fiercest fighting of the famous Meuse-Argonne offensive took place. After some time in a base hospital he was invalided home.

Before entering the army Captain Montgomery wrote verses occasonally merely for his own amusement. In France it helped to while away the time.

Some of his best verse, including “Je Ne Me Fiche” and Her Glove,” was written while he was in a military hospital in France. He is now living in Strafford, Pa.

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Nov 2, 1919

Her Glove

It was a waltz — a wild Hungarian air,
A mad, uprushing storm of vivid tone,
That on its own exulting passion seemed to bear
Us up to Paradise — us two alone.
That waltz. ‘Twas one that cried aloud and throbbed
Of loves in their own fires purified,
And rose and fell and laughed and sighed and sobbed
It self to amorous dreaminess — and died.

Still through our veins that molten music rain,
Bathing each sense in rosy, leaping flame;
And I was man as Adam was a man,
She, woman, without reticence or shame.
The star sewn purple of the night above —
Her softness yet a presence on my arm —
With eager fingers stripped she off her glove,
That I might kiss the rose leaf of her palm.

For one eternal instant I have known
The heights and depths of all-consuming love.
She was his promised bride — and he, mine own
Familiar friend. And this — it is a glove.

(Copyright, 1919, by Bell Syndicate, Inc.)

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Oct 26, 1919


Je Ne Me Fiche (I Should Worry)

If you should raise the dander of
The highest high commander of
Your outfit by some petty little sin,
He may fret and cuss and shout,
As he bawls you inside out —
Just wait until he bawls you outside in —
Quite neatly and completely outside in.

When the Q.M. commissary,
In its waggish way and merry,
Announces that the grub has given out,
You are saved, beyond all question,
From the pangs of indigestion,
You never will be troubled with the gout —
The illfulness and pillfulness of gout.

If you lose an ear or arm, sir,
You’ve another. What’s the harm, sir?
And even if they amputate your pegs,
Why, they’re making ’em of cork, sir —
That can dance and walk, sir —
Oh, quite the very latest thing in legs —
The raciest and paciest of legs.

You may even lose your head, sir;
Yet, when all is don and said, sir,
There wasn’t so much in it, let us hope.
If a shell should come and spill you,
Or the gentle Fritzies kill you,
They can’t do more than make you into soap —
The jelliest and smelliest of soap.

(Copyright, 1919, by Bell Syndicate, Inc.)

Oakland Tribune (Oakland, California) Oct 11, 1919

Dry Bill – Bye, Bye, Booze

October 28, 2011

Miami News: Two were shot in the first raid on a New York saloon under the Volstead act. The other patrons were half shot.

Ada Weekly News (Ada, Oklahoma) Nov 20, 1919

***

Posing as prohibition agents, six men forced their way into the home of Joseph Wolff, former wholesale liquor dealer at Chicago, blew open a vault in the basement and carried away 100 cases of 20-year-old whisky.

***

In defiance of the laws against combinations  in restraint of trade, to say nothing of the Volstead act, bootleggers of Spokane, Wash., have organized to boost the price of liquor.

***

Overpowering three guards and smashing down the doors, a gang of liquor robbers, believed to have numbered 30, escaped with 2,100 gallons of whisky from a warehouse at Burkittsville, Md.

Boyden Reporter (Boyden, Iowa) Mar 16, 1922

Old Ben.

(From Cincinnati Enquirer.)

Each night, for more than 40 years,
He drank a couple of good beers.
He never would exceed that number,
He said that beer promoted slumber;
It was a tonic, so he said,
And to him it was liquid bread.
He said that whisky poisoned men,
He was against it, was Old Ben.
So he went out and voted dry,
To kill the bourbon and the rye.
He killed the whisky, but, oh, dear!
He also found he’d killed his beer.
He needed beer, and he was sad,
For there was no beer to be had.
*     *     *     *     *
Now in a cell we hear him groan —
For Old Ben tried to make his own.
_________
Man’s first trouble was an apple in the garden.
Now its peaches on the roof garden. R.R.

Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) Jun 28, 1920

More Truth Than Poetry

By James J. Montague.
(Copyright, 1920, by the Bell Syndicate, Inc.)

The Disaster.
(Apologies to the Late James T. Fields.)

We were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul was at the bar,
For the splendid floating palace
Hadn’t traveled very far.

‘Tis a fearful thing on shipboard
To be preyed upon by thirst,
and to hear the Captain’s warning,
“Pass the three mile limit first.”

Strong men twitched, with nervous fingers
At the buttons on their coats,
Women, gulped to ease the yearning
Of their parched and panting throats.

So we watched the idle steward
With one eye upon the clock,
When we heard below the grinding
And a sudden, dreadful shock.

And so slowly on the billows
We began to dip and lift,
“All is off,” the Captain shouted.
The propeller’s broke adrift.

But the Captain’s little daughter,
Who’d been looking at the log,
Cried: “We’ve passed the three mile limit,
We’ve been drifting through the fog.”

Then we kissed the little maiden,
Life again became worth while,
And we all were nicely jingled,
‘Ere we’d logged another mile.

Syracuse Herald (Syracuse, New York) Jun 28, 1920

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

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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

Today in History: Woolworth Opens First Store

June 21, 2011

Image from the City of WATERTOWN New York website

June 21, 1879, F.W. Woolworth opened his first store. Although it failed almost immediately, he didn’t give up, and  eventually, Woolworth became a household name. Here is a collection of items mentioning Woolworth’s, from company business, to jokes, a movie and chewing tobacco; together they show the influence of the Woolworth “brand.”

FIVE AND TEN CENT STORES IN BIG TRUST

NEW YORK, Nov. 3. — A $65,000,000 corporation to merge the greatest string of 5 and 10 cent stores in America is announced today by F.W. Woolworth. Six hundred concerns will enter the new corporation, which will be known as F.W. Woolworth and Co.

The new corporation will take over the business of F.W. Woolworth of New York; S.H. Knox & Co. of Buffalo; F.M. Kirby & Co. of Wilkes-barre, Pa.; the E.P. Charleston & Co. of Fall River, Mass.; C.S. Woolworth of Scranton, Pa.; W.H. Moore of Watertown, N.Y., and W.H. Moors & Son of Schenectady, N.Y.
The corporation also will assume a controlling interest in the English business of F.W. Woolworth & Co. limited.

All the concerns involved in the merger own a chain of 5 and 10 cent stores, 600 in number, in all sections of the United States, Canada and England.

It is understood the new corporation will have 7 per cent preferred stock to the value of $15,000,000 and common stock to the value of %50,000,000. It is said that Goldman, Sachs and Co. and Lehman Bros. of New York and Kleinwortsen & Co. of Cleveland will acquire an interest in the new company.

Woolworth one of the founders of the scheme, was one of the originators of the 5 and 10 cent store business and has piled up  millions of dollars on his chain of establishments in which 10 cents will buy anything in the store. His fortune is so great that practically unaided he financed the building of the great building in course of construction in lower Broadway, which will tour 50 stories about the street.

The life of F.W. Woolworth head of the big merger announced today, is the romance of an idea. It is the story of how a tremendous store was built up from nickels and dimes.

Woolworth is the head himself of 286 stores besides supplementary warehouses in Lewistown, Maine, and Denver, Colorado. He has twenty stores in England.

A recent census showed that 1,500,000 persons entered his stores in a day.

The man who mastered such a business is less than 50 years of age. He started without wages as a farmer’s boy in a dry goods store in Watertown, N.Y., set up his first store in 1879 and has been in business for 30 years. He was born in Jefferson county, New York.

When he worked in a store as a boy he evolved the idea that brought him great wealth. Woolworth fixed a uniform price — five and ten cents. He opened his first store in Utica, but the proposition did not go. He tried again in Lancaster, Pa., and there laid the foundation for his fortune. Now Lancaster is an important Woolworth center with a new warehouse that is one of the sights of the town.

New Castle News (New Castle, Pennsylvania) Nov 8, 1911

After deliberating nearly 11 hours a Des Moines, Ia., jury last night decided that bay rum sold in a Woolworth five and ten cent store there is “an intoxicating liquor fit for beverage purposes and should be condemned as such.”

Of course the decision applies only to bay rum in the Des Moines store. It will not affect the sale of similar “lotion” in the Edwardsville Woolworth store, or in stores elsewhere in the country.

As a matter of fact it seems that Edwardsville residents who are brave enough to tackle the liquid will be better off than the folks in Des Moines. Testimony in court there was to the effect that a dime would buy three ounces of the liquid.

Image from The California Perfume Company website

Here it was possible this morning to purchase for a dime a bottle of bay rum, which, according to the label, contained four ounces. The label also said that the liquid contains “60 per cent of alcohol, by volume.” There is nothing to indicate the character of the remaining 10 per cent.

The Iowa case resulted from the seizure, some months ago, by state officers of 3,000 bottles of bay rum. The state charged that the liquid was intoxicating and fit for beverage purposes, which view was upheld by the jury. There was no charges against Woolworth officials, the state merely seeking to confiscate the bottles. Counsel for the company objected.

It was announced today that an appeal would be taken.

At the same time prosecuting authorities at Des Moines announced that a drive would be instituted against sale of bay rum anywhere with their jurisdiction.

So far as is known, this is the first time a jury has passed upon the question of whether bay rum is intoxicating and fit for beverage purposes.

Edwardsville, Intelligencer (Edwardsville, Illinois) Sep 13, 1929

The Newark Advocate (Newark, Ohio) May 10, 1919

HE WAS THIRSTY TOO

I spied a smart dog quench his thirst in Woolworths 10c store yesterday. Watching the people take a drink at the bubbler, he raised up and helped himself also, to the amusement of all who saw it. G.L.C.

Appleton Post Crescent (Appleton, Wisconsin) Apr 14, 1923

Customer to girl pounding a piano in Woolworth’s: “Would you mind playing Some Time?”

Girl: “Wadda ya think I’m doin’ big boy? Sleepin’?”

Appleton Post Crescent (Appleton, Wisconsin) Aug 12, 1926

He — “I’ll take the first two dances.”

She (who worked in Woolworth’s) — “Twenty cents, please.”

Sheboygan Press (Sheboygan, Wisconsin) May 20, 1926

The Daily Northwestern (Oshkosh, Wisconsin) Oct 18, 1923

STABS AND JABS AND COUNTERS
By JOE WILLIAMS

Yes, we call those tricky little golf holes “Woolworths.” We make ’em in five or ten.

Reno Evening Gazette (Reno, Nevada) Aug 24, 1927

Bob: “If you stand over a dime what would you resemble?”

Rob: “I don’t know.”

Bob: “Woolworth’s. Nothing over ten cents.”

The News (Frederick, Maryland) Apr 11, 1922

ALICE WHITE LEADS CAST

Pulchritude and New Plot Ideas Mark Liberty Film.

Dialogue as she is spoke. A whiff of fresh plot ideas: Legs, Curves. Pulchritude with a pull. Good music, good singing, clever lines. That describes “The Girl From Woolworth’s,” which heads a good bill at the Liberty for three days beginning today.

But it doesn’t halfway describe the genuine enjoyment you’re going to get from this First National and Vitaphone offering, because we haven’t mentioned Alice White, the dynamic little star of the piece, and the rest of a really great cast.

Charles Delaney, that engaging young Irish ace of the World war and stunt flyer of the movies, who played opposite Miss White in “Broadway Babies,” is again her leading man. Wheeler Oakman, Ben Hall, Gladden James, Bert Moorehouse, Rita Flynn, Patricia Caron, William Orlamond and Milla Davenport appear in support.

These are not all familiar names on a film offering, because some of them are stage celebrities. Every member of the cast does excellent work And it wouldn’t be fair to pass up a mention of that delectable, pulchritudinous and clever night club chorus of 24 girls. They’re the regular First National — Vitaphone chorus, imported from Broadway, New York, and every inch, curve and kick is class. And William Beaudine‘s direction is splendid.

Still it seems that there is something more that should be said about “The Girl From Woolworth’s” as a charming, heart-touching little love story. The five-and-ten atmosphere, the big town background, the sophistication of the night club — and yet it’s human. That’s it. Human and direct and simple, so that it almost seems old-fashioned. Why, you can tell the story in one short sentence: The love of a boy and girl for each other in the wrong sort of Eden proves strong enough to make the Eden the right sort of garden after all.

By all means, take in “The Girl From Woolworth’s.”

Billings Gazette (Billings, Montana) Dec 29, 1929

*****

NOTE THE BARGAINS:

Sheboygan Press (Sheboygan, Wisconsin) Oct 18, 1918

Left My Bed and Board

March 9, 2011

Perplexing Case.

Hon. James H. Knowlton, one of our most eminent Western advocates, met with the following perplexing adventure in his early practice in Wisconsin:

A stranger came into his office and abruptly informed his that his wife had deserted him, and wished to have her replevined at once. Knowlton told him that that remedy would not meet his case exactly, and went on to inform him that if he would be patient until the desertion had continued one year, he could obtain a divorce. —

The stranger said he did not know that he wanted a divorce. What he mostly feared was that his wife would run him in debt all over the country.

“In that case,” said Knowlton, “you had better post her.”

What his client understood him to mean by posting, remains a mystery to this day. He said, in a meditative way the he didn’t know where she had gone, and beside, that she was fully as strong as he was, and he didn’t believe he could post her, even if he knew where to find her.

Knowlton hastened to inform him that by posting his wife he meant puting a notice in a newspaper, saying:

“Whereas my wife Helen has left my bed and board without any just -”

“But that ain’t true,” interrupted the client — “that ain’t true. she didn’t leave my bed — she took it away with her.”

The Adams Sentinel (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Sep 25, 1861

CAUTION.

WHEREAS my wife Anne, late widow of David Risher, had left my bed and board without just cause, on the 26th inst. — This is therefore to caution all persons, from trusting or harboring her on my account, as I am determined to pay no debts of her contracting after this date.

BALTZER KOONTZ, Son.
Bethlehem tp. July 27.

The Ohio Repository (Canton, Ohio) Aug 19, 1824

NOTICE. — WHEREAS MY WIFE, Anna Rolland, has left my bed and board I shall pay no more bills of her contracting from this date.

LEVI (his X mark) ROLLAND,
Fitchburg, Jan. 23, 1874.

The Fitchburg Sentinel (Fitchburg, Massachusetts) Jan 29, 1874

Caution.

NOTICE is hereby given to all persons, that my wife Hannah Fosdick has left my bed and board, and has taken one of my children with her, John H. Fosdick. I hereby forbid all persons harboring or trusting her on my account, or in behalf of the child, as I will pay no debts of her contracting after this date; as I will support the child when returned to me at Norwalk.

JOHN M. FOSDICK.
Norwalk, Sept. 4, 1844

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Sep 24, 1844

NOTICE.

I, the undersigned, caution the Public against trusting my Wife LYDIA M’WHIRTER — she having left my bed and board last October, without any provocation and against my consent. I will not pay any debts of her contracting from this date.

JOHN M’WHIRTER
Baltimore July 17, 1841.

The Adams Sentinel (Gettsyburg, Pennsylvania) Aug 2, 1841

CAUTION AND NOTICE.

WHEREAS my wife Elvira Bridges, without any good cause or reasonable excuse there for, has left my bed and board and absconded with my two children this is to caution all persons from harboring her or them and to give notice that I shall pay no debts of her contracting or pay any expense for their or either of their support having suitably provided for them at my house in Bucksport.

EPHRAIM BRIDGES, Jr.
Bucksport Oct 12 1841

Bangor Daily Whig and Courier (Bangor, Maine) Oct 26, 1841


NOTICE.

MY wife, REBECCA, left my bed and board, and refuses to live with me under any consideration whatever, after intercessions and propositions of every kind, that an affectionate husband could make. I, therefore, hereby warn all persons not to harbor or trust her on my account, as I have arrangements made for her board, and by calling on me, or on Messrs. Wareing & Benson, or C. & J. Culp, she can have information, and be conducted to the house.

MATHEW M’KELVEY.
Plymouth, Huron County, Nov. 16, 1842.

Huron Reflector (Norwalk, Ohio) Nov 29, 1842

Pass Him Round. — Mrs. Elizabeth Peterman, of Rochester, Fulton county, Indiana, thus notices her absconding husband: “Left my bed and board, last August, thereby making my expenses lighter, my dearly beloved companion, David Peterman, without any just cause or provocation. All the old maids and young girls are hereby forewarned against harboring or trusting him on my account, as I am determined not to be accountable for his debts, or, more especially, for his conduct. Papers will please copy, and oblige a female who is rejoicing at her happy riddance.” — Indiana Blade.

The Adams Sentinel (Gettysburg, Pennsylvania) Apr 13, 1846

Dennis O’Shanessy advertises as follows in the Columbus Republican: “I hereby give notice that my wife Bridget has left my bed and board and that I will not pay her debts, as we are not married.”

The Ohio Democrat (New Philadelphia, Ohio) Apr 12, 1872

Poetry Against Prose.

The following notices appear as advertisements in the Ticonderoga Sentinal of recent date:

NOTICE.

Whereas my wife Josephine has left my bed and board without just cause or provocation, all persons are hereby forbidden to trust or harbor her on my account, as I shall pay no debts of her contracting hereafter.

W.O. MEASECK.
_________
NOTICE.

No bed or board as yet we’ve had
From William O. or William’s dad.
Since last September, when we were wed,
Have furnished him both board and bed;
And for just cause and provocation
Have sent him home to his relation.

MRS. JOSIE MEASECK.

Josie has the best of it in wit if nothing else.

The Ohio Democrat (New Philadelphia, Ohio) Oct 5, 1893

NOTICE.

To whom it may concern: All persons are hereby notified that Joseph Leipert has left my bed and board without any cause or reason therefor, and that hereafter I will not be responsible for any board, lodging, clothing, food, expenses, or other article furnished him.

Dated at Corning, Iowa, February 26, 1898.

ANNA LEIPERT

Adams County Free Press (Corning, Iowa) Mar 10, 1898

NOTICE.

My husband, John S. Sanders, having left my bed and board, notice is hereby given the public not to sell him anything in my name as I will not be responsible for debts or bills contracted by him.

MRS. ANNA M. SANDERS,
New Oxford, Pa.

New Oxford Item (New Oxford, Pennsylvania) Sep 5, 1918

To all Whom it may Concern.

My wife, Francis Catching, having separated from me, and having left my bed and board without any just cause or provocation, I hereby notify all persons not to trust or give her credit on my account, as I will pay no bills, debts, or obligations contracted by her from and after this date, of any nature or kind whatever.

JOEL P. CATCHING.
Missoula, M.T., Feb. 23, 1883.

The Daily Miner (Butte, Montana) Mar 4, 1883

MY WIFE, Mrs. I.H. Tupen, having left my bed and board, I will not be responsible for any debts contracted by her after this date, December 11, 1919. Irving H. Tupen.

P.S. — Her name formerly was Miss Avy Alice Cutlip.

Woodland Daily Democrat (Woodland, California) Dec 19, 1919