The Washington times., 1934-06-13

i jsRf jt1.i. blazing ting
Elsie Robinson bird tn a t
chuckled and cheeped and
challenged from the old fence
rail and "dasted" little girls
to come and play!
Looking back, through the
shadows of so years. Doctor
Nellie" still thrills to the magic
of it all. also remembering
certain homely data that will
make 10000 other women
laugh-and squirm!-through
understanding tears.
Those schoolgirl curls Of 1873
how beautiful they were, but
what a price we paid for them,
didn't we, we nice little girlS!"
every morning Mama
brushed my long curls over her
finger, drew my hair back
from my forehead to a bow on
the crown of my head, and
let the rest fall loose down
my back. 1t was pretty to look
at, but, oh, the tangle and
he tears every day."
But that wasn't all. Besides
the curls, there was always a
fresh gingham apron, ruffled
and tied in a bow at the back,
and startched white panties, ruff
fled and tucked and trimmed
with knitted lace.
II was a very fat little girl,
and my most vivid recollection
OF school that first spring is
walking home in the early after
noon when the sun was hot,
with my fat legs rubbing against
these starched panties until
they we're so chafed that could
scarcely endure the. torture. I
remember there was a Sumac
bush about half way home, and
I would stop and sit in it's
shade and wonder if I would
ever get home, or if someone
would come along and give me
a ride.
But I never took off my pan
ties. Perish the thought! And
although Mama was sorry, and
put on burned starch and NUT
ton tallow, she never stopped
starching those pantieS."
What was that America into
which a Child went forth" in
1870? A place so different from
the world today that it might
we'll have happened on another
star. A placid, pleasant world
small, safe and snug for most Of
its inhabitants-yet that young
nation had powers and perilS
equally incomprehensible to a
mechanical generation.
The Simple Life. Molasses
cookies, and bleaching linen
spread by the lilac hedge.
"Sugaring off" parties under
the maple trees, the hot sap
waxing on the snow. The jingle
of sleigh bells. the hot, sweet
smell of picking spice along the
drowsy street. the smell OF
burning leaf piles in the fall. =.
the flicker of the freight on
Grandma, as she spun the
winter evenings.
Erect and sturdy, in her
blue delaine afternoon dress,
she would walk lightly, back
and forth, whirling the big
wheel with her right hand. and
with her left running the fleecy
rolls of wool back and forth to
the spindle, every movement so
deft and sure that the yarn was
smooth and. eyep, of uniform
thickness and strength, with
never a lump or bunch to mar
its perfection" ..,...,.
The Simple Life-how sweet
and easy it seems on paper;
what incredible labor and for
titude it required in the max
ing! The heroism of a genera.
ton who faced the agonies OF
existence without medical or
emotional ether!
SHE WORE STARCHED
PANTIES AND THOUGH
THEY REDUCED HER TO
BL1STERS AND TEARS, SHE
NEVER THOUGHT OF TAX
ING THEM OFF, NOR Dill
HER DEVOTED MAMA DREAM
OF NOT STARCHING THEM!
There, in one laughing
deeply wise paragraph, Helen
MacKnight Doyle, M. D., ia
NOUS pioneer woman physician
gives a picture of the makingS
of America and Americans. And
sets it down in that grand book
"A CHILD WENT FORTH
Gotham House, publishers.
But the simple, mean truth
Is that the essentials of life to
day, including even ones back
bone, come, wrapped in cello
phane, from some factory OF
laboratory. And Grandma dis
played more initiative and gump
ton in one hour of her ploddine
day than the average Grand
daughter exhibits in her whole
Synthetically flaming career.
Life was real and also dog
goned earnest in 1878. AMI
SPIRITS AS WELL AS SMALL
FAT LEGS WORE STARCHEI
PANTIES!
DISCIPLINE. how they hat
1t, and how they took it! No
even dreamed of ducking it, NJ
matter how it hurt.
What did "Women'S Rights