18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Thursday, November 6, 1913: Had my first experience in banking this afternoon, when I had a check cashed for the amount of four hundred dollars. That was the largest sum of money I ever walked around with.
With five others walked to Watsontown to attend an entertainment. I enjoyed it ever so much. One part was so laughable that it became hard for me to sit still. My sides sill hurt and the tears came.
Grandma may have had her first banking experience in this building. When I was a child it housed the Farmers’ National Bank of Watsontown. (It is now a Sovereign Bank.) I’m not sure whether it was a bank a hundred years ago.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Four hundred dollars!—That’s a lot of money even today and it was a huge amount a hundred years ago.
Where did Grandma get the check that she cashed? Was she cashing the check for her father? . . . Did he sell part of the recently harvested corn crop? . . . . . .
—–
The “entertainment” sounds like fun. Was it a play? . .. some sort of variety show? . . . .
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Wednesday, November 5, 1913: If ever a girl heard high-tone language, I heard some this afternoon.
This doesn’t happen very often, but this afternoon I came to earth with a thud. Was positive there were no spectators, but afterwards learned that I had been mistaken.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Who said the high-tone words? . . . and what did he/she say?
This is a relatively long diary entry for Grandma. Are the two paragraphs both referring to high-tone language? . . . or is the second paragraph about an actual fall?
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Sunday, November 2, 1913: Went to Sunday School this afternoon. We didn’t have church, so I went for a walk with one of the girls.
Grandma probably walked down Main Street in McEwensville with a friend a hundred years ago today.
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
There’s a rhythm to the diary—and a predictable ebb and flow. But, because of the predictability, occasionally something very minor jumps out at me.
Since I began posting Grandma’s diary entries, 2 years and 10 months ago, I’ve probably posted close to 140 Sunday entries which said that she’d gone to Sunday School. I’ve often wondered why Grandma almost always went to Sunday School, but seldom mentioned church.
But this entry—with Grandma noting an exception (no church)—also tells me about her usual routine. She apparently usually went to both Sunday School and church (or I suppose she could be using the words Sunday School interchangeably to mean either Sunday School or church).
18-year-old Helena Muffly wrote exactly 100 years ago today:
Friday, October 31, 1913: At last this old house sees a party. It was fun to see the guests arrive. They were gowned in many crazy ways. One fellow wore a skirt with hoops and looked too silly for anything. We also had a clown, a ghost, and a witch. The rest were dressed in any old way. As for the false faces, they were about as ugly as could be. There were twenty-one in all and made quite a merry company.
As it was Halloween, one of the guests caught it. Someone unhitched his buggy and carted it away, but it was found at last.
Picture Source: Ladies Home Journal (October, 1913)
Her middle-aged granddaughter’s comments 100 years later:
Boo! What a fun party!
Here’s the description of a Halloween party in the October, 1913 issue of McCall’s Magazine:
The house is dark as the guests arrive. A black-robed figure silently opens the door, and mysteriously points them up the staircase, illuminated by a single Jack-o’-Lantern, to a dark room above, where they may remove their wraps. A mysterious something, swathed in a sheet, assists them. . .
As they leave the room voices have dropped to whispers and timid ones stay close together. They follow a series of pointing hands, cut out of black paper, which are indicated by the yellow splotches of candles along the dark hall.
Finally, they come to a large room, dark save for one orange light, where an icy hand takes theirs and leads them to seats. The hand is a glove filled with ice, which the hostess extends. Before the silence becomes oppressive; light appears at the far end of the room behind a sheet. Then begins a shadow pantomime. The real figures are between the light and the sheet, so that the audience sees only their shadows thrown upon the latter.
The pantomime may be anything you choose: not more than four people should be in it, and they will have no end of fun, the week beforehand, working out any scheme they devise.
Some rehearsing will be necessary to regulate the lights, as their distance from the curtain determines whether the shadows will be large or small. The last picture must show witches with capes and high-pointed caps, singing weird incantations over a caldron. They are still there when the sheet is drawn aside and the guests rush forward, to recognize in one of them their hostess. As the lights are raised, the tension breaks and the merriment runs high.
Were there still a few final touches that needed to be completed? . . . like making place cards?
A hundred years ago, place cards were often made to ensure that just the right people sat next to each other. The October, 1913 issue of Ladies Home Journal included several sample place cards.
