18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Sunday, December 14, 1913:Went to Sunday School this morning. My nice new hat blew off. By good fortune it didn’t land in a mud puddle, but on the grass. Came back and pinned it on for I hadn’t gone very far. Mother doesn’t know it.
Grandma probably used a hat pin similar to this one when she pinned her hat on after the near catastrophe.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Whew, thank goodness it didn’t fall into the mud puddle.
. . . I went to Milton this morning on a shopping tour. I got the daintiest hat I’ve ever had for a while. It is black velvet, trimmed with old rose ribbon and pink velvet flowers.
Sometimes I wish that I was an artist. Somehow the picture I used to illustrate this diary entry seems particularly lame when the descriptions were so vivid.
I can picture it in my mind—the beautiful black velvet hat trimmed with ribbons and flowers, the expression of horror on Grandma’s face as a gust of wind tore the hat from her head (and then the look of relief when it landed in the grass), ominous black clouds, the trees with bare branches (and Grandma’s coat and skirts) blowing in the wind. . .
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Tuesday, December 9, 1913: Fizzed around this morning pretending to be doing something, but in reality doing nothing. Really it is wonderful the ways I manage to put the time in.
Went to a lecture with Ruth this evening in Watsontown. Fortunately we didn’t have to walk. We rode in a carriage. The lecture was real good and I enjoyed it quite a bit.
Recent picture of the main intersection in Watsontown. I bet that Grandma and Ruth felt proud of themselves as they rode through the intersection in a carriage.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Grandma—
I love the word picture you created. I sometimes fizz around when really doing nothing—but won’t have been able to describe nearly as well as you did.
—
Who took Grandma and her sister Ruth to the lecture in Watsontown in a carriage?
In the early 1900s lectures presented by traveling speakers were very popular in small towns. The lectures brought culture to the towns, and often were inspirational and entertaining—though they sometimes addressed serious topics.
Somehow this diary entry makes me think of Main Street by Sinclair Lewis—though it was written a little after this time period. (Main Street was published in 1920.)
Grandma attended a single lecture, but this is how Main Street described a lecture series:
(The main character in the novel, Carol Kennicott, was from a city and struggled to fit into the small town of Gopher Prairie, so she had a somewhat negative view of the lectures.)
Nine lecturers, four of them ex-ministers, and one an ex-congressman, all of them delivering “inspirational addresses.” The only facts or opinions which Carol derived from them were: Lincoln was a celebrated president of the United States, but in his youth extremely poor. James J. Hill was the best-known railroad-man of the West, and in his youth was extremely poor. Honesty and courtesy in business are preferable to boorishness and exposed trickery, but this is not to be taken personally, since all persons in Gopher Prairie are known to be honest and courteous. London is a large city. A distinguished statesman also taught Sunday School.
Four “entertainers” who told Jewish stories, Irish stories, German stories, Chinese stories, and Tennessee mountaineer stories, most of which Carol had heard.
A “lady elocutionist” who recited Kipling and imitated children.
A lecturer with motion-pictures of an Andean exploration; excellent pictures and a halting narrative.
Three brass-bands, a company of six opera-singers, a Hawaiian sextette, and four youths who played saxophones and guitars disguised as wash-boards . . .
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Monday, December 8, 1913: Had to help Daddy with his work today. He has a sore back and can’t do much.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Grandma-
Oh dear, I hope your father isn’t in too much misery. A backache can be so, so painful.
You must have a soft spot in your heart for your father when he’s ill. You generally refer to him as Pa, but I see that today you called him Daddy.
_____
Often when I start researching a post, I’m amazed by how much information I find. Today isn’t one of those days.
I thought that it would be easy to find information in hundred-year-old books about how treat backaches—but I found very little.
I got a 1913 book out of the library called When to Send for the Doctor and What to do Before the Doctor Comes. It had information about sore throats, fevers, sick stomachs, and bowel troubles—but nothing about backaches.
I then pulled out a 1911 book called Personal Hygiene and Physical Training for Women –even though it was her father and not her mother with the backache—because it has lots of great health care information. And, I again came up short. Nothing about backaches–just some information about posture, rounded shoulders, and curvature of the spine.
Finally, I got out my copy of The Compendium of Every Day Wants (1908). It didn’t have detailed information, but I finally found some liniments and ointments for “lame back.” For example, here are directions for making a liniment that could be used to “bath” the sore area:
Mix 1/3 pound of cayenne pepper with 1 pint of pure alcohol.
Today, there are lots of books with detailed information about treating backaches. I can’t figure out why I couldn’t find much in the hundred-year-old books. I’ll have to dig around some more, and if I learn more about old-time backache treatments I’ll tell you about them in a future post.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Sunday, December 7, 1913:Went to Sunday School this morning. It proved to be rather rainy. Made a call this afternoon. Ruth and I were going to church this evening, but it started to rain.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
What does “made a call” mean? Did Grandma mean that she visited a friend? . . . .or did she mean that she made a telephone call?
Telephones were unusual enough a hundred years ago that a phone call may have merited a mention in the diary.
In the 1910s telephone lines were being strung from poles in the general area, but I’m uncertain whether Grandma’s family had a phone. Some families who lived in town or along the main road between Watsontown and McEwensville definitely had one.
Back in 1911, Grandma wrote:
. . .This afternoon I went over to Stout’s. My first experience in telephoning. The voice at the other end of the wire sounded rather squeaky. I telephoned to Besse.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Wednesday, December 3, 1913: Nothing——-That word I have good use for.
The Schoolboy must be coming home from school since his luncheon is all gone. He wears a cotton suit with a wool coat, and crocheted shoes.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Grandma—
It can’t be that bad. Where’s your Christmas cheer? Maybe you should read the current issue of Ladies Home Journal, there were a couple of articles that made me smile.
—-
Here are some pictures of Christmas Dolls from Russia that were in the December, 1913 issue of Ladies Home Journal. According to the magazine:
Christmas Dolls from Russia
Most dolls are clothed with the idea of making them pretty, but the dolls on this page were dressed to typify certain kinds of people and are accurate representations. The most interesting things about them is the fact that they were dressed by children in an orphan asylum in far-away Russia, and the money the children earned is their own. They are reproduced courtesy of the Russian Peasant Handicraft Center.
Ladies Home Journal (December, 1911)
The Russian Gentleman in velvet and gold braid looks very proud, with his fur-trimmed turban, and his dainty kid boots, which were made from someone’s old kid glove.
.
The Russian Lady is dressed in a satin gown, velvet coat and elaborate headdress.
.
The Coachman, to make himself quite pompous in the doll world, has stuffed his coat in front with cotton.
.
The Water-Carrier looks so pretty and warm in her plaid shawl and green coat, beneath which there is a glimpse of a wool dress and a gingham apron. The water-pails have been whittled out of pine.
.
The Broom-Seller being a poor little lady, is dressed in gingham.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Sunday, November 30, 1913: Went to Sunday School this afternoon.
This isn’t the church Grandma attended–she went to the Baptist church which was torn down years ago–, but here is a recent photo of St. John’s United Church of Christ in McEwensville.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Grandma went Sunday School almost every Sunday, so she obviously got something important out of attending: however, a hundred years ago church leaders sometimes worried about teens who did not attend Sunday School.
I found an interesting book published in 1913 called The Sunday School and the Teens. It is a report of the Commission on Adolescence of the International Sunday School Association.
The Commission sent a questionnaire to girls between the ages of 13 and 20 in “widely scattered sections of the country.”
Girls who answered the survey question who no longer attended Sunday School gave many reasons including:
“We had no regular teacher.” “The Sunday School lessons weren’t interesting.” “I didn’t get anything out of it.” “There were so few girls my age in Sunday school I finally left.” “My family moved and I did not enter a new school.” “Sunday is my only day and I did not want to spend the afternoon in Sunday school.” “The other girls in the class weren’t sociable and I got sick of it and left..” “ I think Sunday school is well enough for children but I don’t see anything in it for a business girl” “ I’m too tired.” “I’d rather go to church.” “I simply did not like it.”
The Sunday School and the Teens (1913)
The report concluded that the girls wanted Sunday Schools with:
