No rhyme or reason, quirky bits from the past
By Sandy Vasko
As you have probably gathered by now, I get much of my information from newspapers. Not every edition has important articles; most are hardly worth reading. But then there are a few that make you laugh or look twice to see what the date on the newspaper really is.
Today, we have no main topic, we will jump from topic to topic with no rhyme or reason.
Our first entry had me checking the date: “The investigation into the electoral fraud has passed entirely out of the category of ridiculous things. No one seriously disputes its grave importance any longer. There was never very good ground for ridiculing it. An investigation which threatened to expose the invalidity of the title to the Presidency of the man who is administering the office is hardly a laughing matter.
“If a majority of the voters have been cheated out of the right of electing a Chief Executive Magistrate, it would seem to be a wrong of too much magnitude to be turned off with a sneer. We scarcely believe that even the candidates feels like laughing very loud and very heartily over the investigation at present; and as it proceeds the mirrors of their private apartments will undoubtedly often reflect wry faces.
“That the presidency of the United States was obtained, not by honest votes, but by fraud and a corrupt bargain, made in his name, is not a thing to laugh at; and unless the evidence already before the committee shall be disproved, no one can doubt that it was so obtained. We apprehend the solemnity of the case to the parties immediately concerned will not diminish as it progresses.”
No, this is not about Biden/Trump. This was printed in June of 1878, referring to the election of Rutherford B. Hayes over John Sherman. History repeating itself?
In the realm of politically incorrect in every way, shape and form, we read in April, 1871: An eastern paper says, ‘A good father in Vermont offers his farm to anyone who will marry his daughter.’ We’d do it, but the farm is mortgaged, and the girl is cross-eyed, stutters, has a red head and isn’t divorced from her 7th husband as yet.”
Ed Conley, editor of the Wilmington Advocate, considered himself quite a humorous guy. He would put small jokes as fillers, here and there. Note I said small, not funny: “Why is a moth fluttering round a candle like a man getting off a horse? Because they are both going to a-light.
“A whole-souled and intelligent subscriber endorses the Advocate as ‘a live, spicy paper, with nothing dry about it.’ We rise to explain, that it is not dry, owing to the amount of due (dew) on it from the last year’s subscribers.
“A lover was thrown from his fiery steed in front of his girl’s residence the other day. Her guardian heard the prostrate lover call for her, as he supposes, but says he must have another girl and got the name mixed. The name pronounced sounded like ‘Helen Damnation.’
“Twenty-three able bodied men and voters witnessed the death of a poisoned dog on Monday, in front of Rauworth’s meat market. Their gaze alone would kill any ordinary dog, leaving poison out of the question.
“It is said that dancing makes girls’ feet large. It is also said that ice cream makes freckles. Doctors are of the opinion that hanging on the front gate produces rheumatism. A few more opinions like these and the girls won’t have any fun left them.
“The new styles of fans which ladies carry nowadays are about the size of a small lumber raft, when spread out, and are excellent things to sleep behind in church.
“It is a curious fact that it is the fashion at summer resorts, this season, for ladies to promenade in the open air bareheaded, and to sit at the dining table with their hats on.”
Even in the 19th century there were fashion commentators. However, I am having a hard time forming a mental picture of this outfit: “At the recent Independence ball Miss M____ wore a red bombazine dress, ruched (trimmed) with point alpaca, and an overskirt of rose gingham with a border of parsley blossom. Her tournure was particularly noticeable from the fact that her hair was so deliciously scrambled in front. She also wore No. 9 lilac double button gloves, and No. 6 store shoes slashed at the heel, and pompadour socks.”
And fashion related, “A curious looking arrangement was found on the canal bridge this morning, and while two men were holding it and hotly disputing as to what it was, a woman came along and explained it in a hurry. ‘I’m looking for that; I lost it last night; it’s the cover to my bustle – if you want to know very bad.’ And those two men wished the canal bridge would give away and let them through. They know more about the mysteries of female raiment now then Demosthenes ever knew of philosophy.”
And speaking of bustles, “Everywhere upon the streets you meet bustles – hanging up on stores and in front of stores, and they are a never-failing source of anxious inquiry among unsophisticated males. The great point of discussion among the observing masculines is why the part that the ladies do not get into is so much more commodious than is the part they do get into. Why this should be a fact is something that only the ponderous wisdom of the bustle manufacturer can explain. It is a conundrum we do not care to tackle.”
And finally farm related: “A Wesley farmer sprinkles his tomato vines with whiskey; the worms get drunk, drop off and either break their necks or cripple themselves so that life is a burden.
“In a rash moment a Wesley farmer offered his children ten cents a quart for potato bugs. He has his choice now to suspend payments or mortgage his farm.”