18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Wednesday, October 29, 1913: Ditto
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Grandma and her sister Ruth were getting ready for a Halloween party they are going to host.
What foods were they planning to serve their guests?
The October, 1913 issue of Ladies Home Journal had the following suggestion:
Serve ice cream in orange Jack-o’-lantern shells.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Tuesday, October 28, 1913: Working away as usual.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Hmm. . . Grandma wasn’t exactly doing her usual work. She and her sister Ruth were preparing to host a Halloween party. The previous day they sent invitations to friends.
Were they making any Halloween decorations? . . . Maybe the carrot and apple head bogeyman shown in the October, 1913 issue of Ladies Home Journal?
I’m a bit foggy about why the magazine caption calls the bogeyman a candle holder since I don’t seen any candles in the picture.
The magazine didn’t provide directions for making the bogeyman, and instead said that if you wanted directions for making the “novelties” shown that you should send a stamped self-addressed envelope to the Entertainment Editor.
Here’s how I interpreted the picture when I made the bogeyman:
I bought some old-fashioned fat carrots (and some apples) at the farmer’s market.
I carved a jack-o-lantern face on the apple and then cut a round hole about 1-inch in diameter and 1-inch deep in the bottom of the apple. I dipped the carved face in lemon juice so that it wouldn’t turn brown.
I peeled the carrot and cut the bottom off so that it would sit flat. I then cut away part of the top of the carrot to create narrower piece that could be inserted into the bottom of the apple. I also cut notches on each side of the carrot for the twig arms.
I then assembled the bogeyman. The “buttons” on the front of the carrot are raisins that I attached using pins.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Monday, October 27, 1913: At last and for the first time Ruth is going to pay back some of the entertaining she owes. She is going to give a Halloween Masquerade party. I suggested it over a month ago. I almost gave the thing up last week, but now the invitations are out and I’m fixing things up to beat the kill.
“Invitations written on post cards decorated with button-face freaks Iike those shown will be unique.”
Ladies Home Journal (October, 1913)
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
What fun! Grandma and her sister Ruth were going to have a Halloween party.
The October, 1913 issue of both Ladies Home Journal and McCall’s Magazine included directions for Halloween parties. As Grandma and Ruth prepare for their party over the next few days, I’ll share what the magazines said.
Today, I’m sharing the instructions for making invitations. The direction in Ladies Home Journal are above. Here are the directions in McCalls:
Buy a ten-cent package of black-witch silhouettes, or cut them out yourself, and paste it in the lower corner of the invitation. Across the top write the following:
Attend, attend, attend:
Lend an ear!
The witches are back,
They’re all come here!
They buried them deep,
But they won’t be still
On All Saints’ Eve,
When the winds blow chill.
They’ll meet you here.
At the hour of eight
Come, see queer things
And learn your fate.
On the reverse side of the card the address is written.
Incidentally, the poem from which the above verses are parodies is entitled “The Broomstick Train” by Oliver Wendell Holmes.
McCall’s Magazine (October, 1913)
.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Sunday, October 26, 1913: Went to Sunday School this morning. Took my umbrella it didn’t rain. Other Sundays when it rains my umbrella is likely to be at home. No one came this afternoon and I didn’t go any place, but managed to put the time in somehow.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
The same thing always happens to me. When I take an umbrella, and am prepared, it doesn’t rain—and when I don’t, it inevitably does.
There seems to be strong correlation between taking an umbrella and no rain (and vice versa), but I suppose that I just remember the times I’m over-prepared (or under-prepared).
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Saturday, October 25, 1913: Ma and Jim went to Milton this morning. They both got new beds. Ruth also has her fine apparel. I am beginning to wonder when poor insignificant me can sport something new.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
It must have been a good year for the Muffly’s. It sounds like they felt like they were “in the money,” if both Grandma’s mother and little brother Jim got new beds, AND her older sister Ruth has nice clothes.
The family just finished harvesting the corn. It must have been a good year. The success or failure of crops means the difference between a good year and a devastating year for farmers.
Poor Grandma–Why didn’t she use any of the money she earned from husking corn to also buy something new?
An aside—I think this is the first time Grandma called her little brother Jim. In the past she’s always referred to him as Jimmie. He was eight-years-old, and must not longer seem really little.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Friday, October 24, 1913:
10/20 – 10/24: It’s been so rainy and dreary this week that I begin to feel awful grouchy. I certainly am under the weather these days. Any way October never was a favorite month of mine. I don’t have much to write about for her.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Cold, dreary days in October always make me think about the upcoming winter—and the need get prepared. Maybe Grandma made herself a new winter hat while she was stuck inside.
All of the caps pictured are from the October and November, 1912 issues of Ladies Home Journal.
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Thursday, October 23, 1913:
10/20 – 10/24: It’s been so rainy and dreary this week that I begin to feel awful grouchy. I certainly am under the weather these days. Any way October never was a favorite month of mine. I don’t have much to write about for her.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Yesterday, I shared some excerpts from a 1913 book called A Woman’s Winter in Africa: A 26,000 Mile Journey by Charlotte Cameron Since Grandma didn’t write a separate diary entry for this date I’m going to share some more from the book. I’m still amazed at how adventuresome some women were a hundred years ago.
Here’s some quotes from the chapters about Mrs. Cameron’s visit to Victoria Falls. The falls are located on the Zambezi River at the border between what is now Zambia and Zimbabwe.
In a short time the train stops in a sort of wood. A small tin station stands close by—and a big white wooden signboard spells: “Victoria Falls.”
Five minutes’ walk under trees, and through pretty gardens which, have large whitewashed stones round the flower-beds brought me to the Victoria Falls Hotel. After registering I passed through the hall to the verandah.
A beautiful view greats you as you look down two great gorges covered with fresh trees and kept ever verdant by the ceaseless spring. Victoria Bridge, 600 , foot high, with a cantilever span of 500 feet, is the loftiest bridge in the world, and in the blue distance resembles filigree work I take a hasty breakfast feeling I must lose no time before seeing the Falls. I set off, camera, sunshade, and notebook in hand.
The managing clerk accompanies me to the end of the verandah. “Don’t you think I should have a guide?” I inquire. “Oh, no it’s not necessary,” he responds. “The paths are well laid out, as you will see by the signboards.”
In all the hotel advertisements one reads that the Falls are only a few minutes away. This is quite deceptive. After half an hour’s walk over a rather rough road you come to Victoria Bridge. All along the approach the roar of the Falls increased its thunder; but even so you are totally unprepared for the scene that opens before you?
Everywhere are wonderful trees, crystallized into eternal freshness by the mist They crown and decorate well-worn pinnacles of rocks. They you stand on Victoria Bridge. To the left and far below is the dark brown water, churning in what is called the Boiling Pot. The water rushes in, swirls, runs about in impotent anger, having been hurled over a precipice, down 400 feet, and into this maze from which there is no outlet. At last, however, it rushes under the bridge, flows with loud protest, hissing over rocks, and wends its way through deep and narrow channels to its natural bed.
According to Wikipedia the bridge was constructed in 1904-05. I’m continually amazed at how many technological wonders are more than one hundred years old.
