16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Friday, May 19, 1911: I had to drop potatoes this afternoon. I’m so glad it only comes once in a year. I got so fatigued, but that isn’t rare.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
A hundred years ago potatoes were a winter staple, so the family probably planted lots of potatoes. Also, many families raised more potatoes than they needed so they could sell the excess to people living in nearby towns. No wonder Grandma was tired after dropping (planting) seed potato pieces in the furrows.
A 1911 book by Allen French called How to Grow Vegetables explains how potatoes were planted when Grandma was young:
The seed piece—It has been proven that the size of the piece rather than the number of eyes on it, is of importance in giving good results. . . . All pieces should be chunky and not thin; pieces the size of hens’ eggs are proper, weighing about three ounces. If they have to be stored after cutting, keep them in a cool place with wet clothes laid over the box to keep them from wilting.
Cutting Potato Seed Pieces
Distances—Rows apart, for hand culture, twenty-four to thirty inches; for horse culture, three feet or more. Plant in the row, twelve to eighteen inches apart; the richer the soil and the better prepared the closer they may stand. . . Distances are also a matter of variety: plant strong-growing or large-yielding kinds farther apart.
Depth—In heavy clayey soils three inches may be allowed. But generally speaking, it is not wise to plant less than four inches deep; if planted shallower the tubers may be sunburnt.
Culture–Cultivate once or twice before the potatoes break ground, to kill the weeds and preserve the mulch. . . The early cultivations may be deep, but once the plants are growing well, cultivation should be shallow on account of the surface-feeding roots.
Fertilizer—The soil should be rich. Humus, if supplied in the year the potatoes are grown, may come from good compost or very well-rotted manure. If fresh, the manure may cause scab. For safety, the manure is best supplied in the fall, and ploughed in; or it could be heavily fed to the previous crop. Or in farm operations green manure (leguminous crops), ploughed in, will both give humus and help to open up the subsoil. Chemical fertilizers may previously be applied at the rate of about fifteen hundred pounds per acre.
16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Saturday, April 29, 1911: Ma kept me busy a chasing the chickens out of the garden this afternoon. I get so mad at them. Carrie Stout came over this evening. Wanted me to go along with her up to McEwensville. She is afraid of the dark. Of course I went, although I looked like a witch.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
I wonder what Grandma and her friend Carrie were doing in McEwensville on a Saturday night. Today, I think that Saturday nights in McEwensville are generally pretty quiet—maybe it was hopping a hundred years ago.
Chickens
The chickens probably enjoyed eating the small emerging plants in the garden. It sounds like the family needed a fence to keep them out.
In the old days women often were able to earn a little “pin money” by raising chickens and selling their eggs. A hundred years ago women’s magazines—as well as farm magazines—had lots of poultry advice.
Paul Orr in the June 1911 issue of National Food Magazine in an article titled “Are Old Methods Best? Two Thousand Years Have Seen Little Progress in Poultry Raising” argued that the old ways of raising chickens were best—and that incubators and other “fancy” equipment were not needed. Poultry tips in that issue of the magazine included:
Beginners in poultry raising often owe their failure to the deluge of new-fangled suggestions by men who make things to sell. There are a hundred trinkets and devices on the market that are useless, and the beginner is the legitimate prey not only of egg sellers but of breeders and makers of all ilks of useless contrivances. The fact is that the old methods of poultry raising are often the best.
Advertisement in April, 1911 issue of Farm Journal
Two hundred heads are sufficient for employing the whole care and time of one person, provided that either a diligent old woman or a boy be appointed to keep watch over them, so they will not stray away or fall a prey to marauders. (Comment by Sheryl: Or I guess—at least in the case of the Muffly family—a diligent teen-aged daughter might be asked to chase after the chickens.)
They must not be allowed wander far from the coop when very young.
Let the custom be observed here, as with other cattle; pick out the best for breeding and sell the less good.
Also dispose of all hens over three years old, and those hatched after the solstice (June 21), as they will not attain their full growth.
Avoid the white kind, as they are not very hardy, and because of their conspicuous white color they fall an easy prey to hawks and eagles. Those of a reddish color, with black pinions, should be chosen.
Cartoon in April, 1911 issue of Good Housekeeping. Photo caption: “I insisted that he should see the Black Minorea”.
It is not expedient to keep a cock except he is exceedingly strong and vigorous of the same color as the hens and with the same number of toes . . . Such a male should be provided with five females.
When the breeding season begins. . the keeper must take care that the laying places are strawed with clean straw, and free from vermin; and the eggs are gathered every day and marked, so he may know that the freshest are put under the hens when they become broody. The freshest eggs are the most proper for hatching; yet such as they are stale may be set, provided they are not over ten days old.
The old hens are best suited for hatching, as they are more reliable than the young.
16-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Friday, April 28, 1911: Besse came out this morning to help with the kitchen. It seems we were working at it all day and I guess we were. Carrie Stout was over this evening. She brought Ma some flower seeds. Ruth and I went part of the way home with her.
Recent photo of the spot about half way between the Muffly farm and the Stout one. When Grandma and her sister Ruth walked their friend Carrie part way home, they might have turned around about here.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
A hundred years ago people commonly saved seeds in the fall to plant the following spring. Friends and neighbors often shared seeds with one another.
According to a book published in 1911 called The Practical Flower Garden:
One of the greatest pleasures to the gardener is in raising flowers, both perennials and annuals, from seed; and especially is it interesting to gather and sow the seeds saved from her own finest plants.
I always mark the plants whose seeds I wish to save by tying white strings about the stems when in full bloom as a sign to all that the blossom must not be cut . . . . [I keep] a box containing little pieces, about eight inches long and an inch wide, of white muslin, black cambric, pink cambric and turkey-red. I tie black upon the plants that are to be cast out in the autumn; scarlet upon the very bright red phloxes; a pink and white string upon all those of pink and white varieties; and a single white piece upon the choice white phloxes, and also upon all plants whose seeds I wish to save.
The seeds, after maturing, are gathered when dry, put into boxes, each of which is carefully labeled, and then sown either in August or the following spring.
Helena Rutherford Ely in The Practical Flower Garden (1911)
Recent photo of house where Grandma grew up. I wonder if Grandma once planted seeds in the same flower beds.The diary entry discusses friends and neighbors sharing saved seeds, but in 1911 people could also buy flower seeds. This ad is from the April 1911 issue of Farm Journal.
15-year-old Helena wrote a hundred years ago today:
Saturday, February 4, 1911. Got up late this morning. The time we usually get up on Saturday mornings. Went to Watsontown this afternoon. Bought some valentines. I was rather fortunate. I got a ride both ways from and to home which I was glad of because the roads were so slushy. Ruth did my milking tonight. Twas a wonder.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Did Grandma have to milk the cows every evening? . . . what about in the morning? Did she milk them before walking to school each morning? It seems like needing to milk cows daily was a major commitment, yet she never mentioned it during the entire first month of the diary. Apparently from Grandma’s perspective it was only worth mentioning on the day when she went to town and her sister Ruth had to do her milking for her.
Watsontown is about 2 miles west of the Muffly farm, and is somewhat larger than McEwensville. The MyWatsontown web site has some wonderful old photos—and lots of other history resources—that provide a sense of what Watsontown was like in 1911.
