Radio Script #978

Little Talks on Common Things
September 9, 1973

This broadcast begins the 26th consecutive year of Little Talks on Common Things. During the winter will occur the 1000th broadcast of this program since its beginning in 1948. Again I want to express thanks to the great number of listeners through the years, as well as to many new comers to the Waterville area, who have become listeners more recently. And, of course, my continued gratitude goes to the Keyes Fibre Company, the program’s single sponsor since its start. What a marvelous growth Keyes has had since 1948. In 1951, under the urging of Keyes’ president, “Deke” Parsons, I visited the only plants outside of Waterville and Shawmut that were than connected with Keyes, the wholly owned plant at Hammond, Indiana and the Keyes affiliate at Hantsport, Nova Scotia. Later, when I was visiting my son in Pittsburg, California the next Keyes plant was under construction, that at Sacramento. Now the company has other plants in the United States, and either Keyes owned or Keyes affiliated plants in numerous foreign countries.

The years have seen the passing of Deke Parsons, and only recently of his lovely wife, Lydia. Gone also is Bert Williamson, long associated with the founder, Martin Keyes. Retired is Ralph Cutting, who succeeded Parsons as president. Also, either deceased or retired are valuable men from the Research Department, including Sawyer, Randall, and French. From production supervision went Gus Johnson.

Because of my long association with Colby College, one of the pleasing things to me about Keyes is its employment of many Colby graduates in responsible positions. To mention any of them by name would be unfair to others, and if I started to name them I am sure I should miss some names. Perhaps it is not unfair, however, to note that the company treasurer is Carroll Abbott, Colby 1935.

How long has it been since you have used any Keyes products in your home? There are none better for household use, as well as for market display.

A few weeks ago Mrs. Beulah Henderson of Fairfield gave me a printed card distributed in 1905 by a food store that I knew very well when I was a school boy in the first decade of this century. Perhaps the best way to reveal the place is to tell you exactly what that advertising card said. Here are its words: “We announce a special sale of Swift’s Premium Hams, 13-1/2 cents per pound, Swift’s Premium Bacon, 18-1/2 cents per pound – Saturday, October 14, 1905. This is an exceptional opportunity to purchase the highest grade smoked meats at a low price. W. E. Marriner, Bridgton.”

Mrs. Henderson has also let me see some interesting magazine ads for the year 1891. That is a year of special interest to me, for in that year I was born, 82 years ago. One ad was for a California resort hotel that catered to guests both summer and winter. How one would like to get such accommodations today for those 1891 rates. The ad said: “The attention of tourists and health seekers is called to the celebrated Hotel del Monte, Monterey, California. Only three hours from San Francisco by express trains of the Southern Pacific RR. Trains run through the best sections of California, revealing wonders of climate, products and scenery that no other part of the world can duplicate. Rate for board: by the day $3 and upward. Parlors, from $1 to $2 per day extra. Children in children’s dining room $2 per day. Open all the year round. ”

Besides the popular mineral water spas where people sought health 80 years ago, salt baths, situated near salt lick deposits in several states, were well advertised. Here is such an ad: “Warsaw Salt Baths, Warsaw, Wyoming County, New York. Salt water from 2000 feet underground rushes up into capacious bathing places. Masters of massage rub strength and life into one’s flesh until the very bones seem to feel the force of it. Lovely drives, vast perspectives, glorious sunsets, wholesome food, delightful fellowship with solitariness and society alternating at one’s will. Open all the year.”

Here’s a health ad slightly different. “A Winter Sanitorium. The Glenn Springs, overlooking 30 miles of Seneca Lake, surrounded by pine forests near the famous Watkins Glen. Equipped with the most approved therapeutic appliances, including Turkish, Russian, and Electro-Thermal methods. Pure water, pure air, no malaria – modern improvements include elevator and electric bells.”

Americans were going to Bermuda as early as 1891. Here is an alluring ad. “Bermuda Islands as a winter resort. Land of the lily and the rose. (Why didn’t they mention the onion?) Most equable climate in the world. One of England’s oldest colonies, garrisoned with British troops and a winter station for Her Majesty’s Fleet. Never colder than 50 nor warmer than 75. First class hotels and boarding houses. For information write to the Royal Gazette, Bermuda.”

Here’s another Salt Bath ad. “Carlsbad Sprudel Salt. Nature’s remedy. Obtained from the Sprudel Spring by evaporation. Aids digestion, cures constipation, purifies the blood.”

For those unable to put up their own mincemeat, a prepared package was ready in 1891. “New England Mincemeat. In paper boxes, enough for two pies. Always ready. Easily prepared. The most satisfactory condensed mincemeat on the market. 15 cents.”

Here’s an old ad that will bring back memories to many of our older citizens. “Portraits of healthy infants, sent us by many thankful parents, give irrefutable proof of the excellence of Mellen’s Food.”

Before the popularity of Campbell or Heinz soup, a favorite New England soup was Hacker’s, made in Boston. Their ad said: “Besides such common varieties as beef, pea, bouillon, consomme, tomato and vegetable, we invite a trial of our excellent oxtail, terrapin, milligatawny and vermicelli. All are rich and perfectly seasoned. Require only to be heated and served.”

Even more familiar than Mellen’s Food was an 1891 product still with us today, Ivory Soap. Its ad was in rhyme:
“My lady’s boudoir’s fair to see,
And so’s her maid, petite Marie,
Who shakes her lady’s silken pillows
And sighs for France beyond the billows.
Her cap and apron white as snow,
And all the room a shining glow.
What keeps them so? You’d like to know?
‘Tis Ivory Soap.”

By this time you listeners are aware of my fondness for old account books. Recently I examined one kept in the 1820’s, a century and a half ago, by a storekeeper in Castine. Though considerable distance from our Kennebec Valley, that region’s 1820 prices were not much different from those I have seen in Kennebec account books of the same period. Just consider what that storekeeper paid for board and lodging on a trip to Boston: 3-1/2 days at Quincy House, lodging and meals, $4.50. Now consider these absurdly low prices: beef 2-1/2 cents a pound, turkey 4-1/2 cents, lamb 5 cents, a whole goose 20 cents, a dozen fowls $1.00. Butter was 9 cents a pound, sugar 10 cents, cheese 7 cents, and flour $8.75 a barrel. On
one occasion the merchant sold a fur hat for $3.25.

I am sure many of my listeners recall the Ima Wanderer column in the Waterville Sentinel 50 years ago, written regularly by the editor Caleb Lewis. I had very close relations with Mr. Lewis because he was secretary of the Kiwanis Club when I was its president in the mid-1920’s, and it was Caleb who saw to it that I made the trip to St. Paul for an international convention of Kiwanis. I was delighted, therefore, to run across an Ima Wanderer column that appeared in 1922. It said: “Follow prices through the years and you will find that they compare favorably with wages paid the workers. The great difference today is taxes. Since the Civil War taxes have gone up and up, as more people have come to depend on someone else to do the things they ought to do for themselves. It seems impossible to convince some people that the government does not have some way of obtaining money except by taking it from people. ”

If Caleb Lewis felt that way about taxes and government spending in 1922, what would he think today? I fear he would explode.

One of the well known magazines of a century ago was Leslie’s Weekly more correctly titled Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper. It was recently my privilege, through the courtesy of Mr. Joseph Roy of Hallowell Street, Winslow, to examine the issue of March 21, 1874. The illustrations – all drawings, not photographs – included a scene of St. Petersburg’s principal street, a ship placed at mouth of the Danube Canal to prevent inflow of ice, and three pictures of the Ashantee war in Africa, a Negro uprising against Arab slave traders, a conflict in which England had intervened by sending a naval brigade to Capetown.

An interesting article, with accompanying drawings, showed how burglars then operated, with rope ladder, chloroform sponge on end of a stick to keep a householder asleep, and a kit of tools that included jimmies, skeleton keys, pliers and nippers, loaded club, sand bag, and brass knuckles. It all looked like too obvious an invitation to take up the burglar’s vocation.

The magazine’s center spread across two pages concerned a street railway that was planned but never built. Called Speer’s Endless Railway, it called for a moving platform erected above the street in New York from Bowery to Central Park, then down to the Astor House. It was a moving platform on which were settees for sightseers or elderly travelers. There were luxurious drawing rooms for the wealthy, and open walks for pedestrians. The platform stopped at major stations, and moved by others so slowly that the average person could step on or off as easily as on a modern escalator. There were stairways at every street corner. The track was supported by fancy iron pillars 14 feet high. All was driven by stationary engines below the ground, about a mile apart. The article said, “The cost will be trifling compared with the underground tunnel that is proposed.”

Of course Speer’s moving sidewalk never got beyond the drawing board, but the despised tunnel did. Not the overhead moving platform, but the underground subway, became a New York reality.

Year: 1973