Faneuil Hall

1895

The Old Cradle of Liberty, the Pride of the "Hub."

Fanuuil hall, the old "Cradle of Liberty," was presented to the town of Boston by Peter Faneuil for the free use of the people. It was completed in September, 1742, and was 100 feet long and 40 feet wide, only half its present width, but large for those days. Three days after its completion it was formally accepted in public meeting and a vote of thanks passed to the donor. It was also voted that the hall should be called Faneuil hall forever. Peter Faneuil died six months after, and his funeral eulogy was the first public oration delivered in the hall.

"May liberty always spread her joyful wings over this place," said Master Lovell of the Latin school in his oration. It was a prophecy; but, sad to say, the prophet afterward turned Tory and loft Boston when it was evacuated by the British. The interior of the hall was destroyed by fire in 1763, but the town immediately voted to repair the damage. The first gathering on the day of the Boston tea party was held here, but the hall was too small to hold them all, and the meeting was adjourned to the Old South church.

During the siege of Boston the hall was turned into a theater by the British. The merchants of the city gave Lafayette a dinner here in 1784. In 1806 the hall was enlarged from 40 to 80 feet in width, and a third story was added. The hall is still used for public meetings and is also used as the rendezvous of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery company, whose history dates back to 1673. — Boston Traveller.

Those Matinee Girls

1895

The Boston Type — How she Differs From Those of Other Cities.

The Boston matinee girl is quite unlike the same dear creature anywhere else, remarks a Boston Herald writer. The culture, the thirst for knowledge, the indulgence in "fads," the prevalence of reading clubs, have all had their effect on her. In other cities she may be a silly creature, about whom foolish but laughable dialogues are written. In Boston she is quite different. She may be excitable, emotional, amusing — indeed, she is — but it is all a la Boston, and the humorist looking for a subject would only find it at a Boston matinee by waiting and watching — or having great luck.

In New York if you watch a matinee audience entering Daly's, the Lyceum or the Empire you will note that every other woman kisses some one in the lobby, and that the rest seem to kiss every one they meet.

That doesn't happen in Boston. Probably knowledge and the microbe theory prevent. Anyway you will note that Boston women as they enter the theater or loiter in the parlor are content to make a great bustle of shaking hands. Then such a jostling as there is in the effort to see every one, such as standing up in the seats to find out who's there and who's with them, and such a hum of voices that the orchestra plays in dumb show! Yet, with all this, candor must confess that the matinee girl is prettier than she is silly.

Boston's Tremont House

1895

A Pamphlet Printed In 1830 Describes What Was Then a Wonder.

A curious relic has been found recently in the shape of a pamphlet describing the Tremont House, probably the only copy in existence, which was published in 1830 by Gray & Bowen of Boston.

It contains 94 pages and is finely illustrated, 74 pages being devoted to cuts and plates. Excavation was begun in June, 1828, by a company incorporated by the legislature in 1824-5, and on the July 4th following the cornerstone was laid by the Massachusetts Charitable association. The building was completed in August, 1820, and opened in October.

The dining room was heated from two open fireplaces and was regarded as a very fine apartment in those days. The reading room was free to guests, but a small annual subscription was required from others.

Rainwater was used in the kitchen from a reservoir in the yard, and a well was also drawn upon in the belief that it was inexhaustible. A cistern was placed in Tremont place, another in the cellar and two in the attic. Lead pipes were used and at that time were considered wonderful, as was also the use of mortar in the flooring.

It was considered to be extremely well guarded against fire, and the staircases were thought so wide that inmates could easily escape by them, no matter how rapid the conflagration might be.

The doric portico and stained glass skylight were the two features in which the greatest pride was taken, and the description closes by saying that up to the time of writing the patronage received by the house warranted the belief that it would be beneficial as well as ornamental to the city.

The book is valued at $100. It was published "to satisfy a curiosity which numerous inquiries for a description of the Tremont House were supposed to indicate." — Boston Globe.

Why Beverly Was Called Beantown

1895

The town of Beverly was set off from the town of Salem more than 200 years ago. About that time, it is said, a schooner with a full cargo of beans entered that port. This supplied the whole town with beans; hence the name given to the inhabitants, "Beverly Beaners." In 1687 the town of Beverly voted to impose a tax of 10 shillings on all future absentees from town meetings. In 1754 28 slaves were owned in the town. The first Sunday school in America was established in Beverly in 1810, and the fiftieth anniversary was celebrated in that place in 1860. In 1824 General Lafayette visited Beverly, and the writer of this saw him as he rode through on horseback. We are told that up to this day those in the vicinity of Beverly call it "the bean town." — Boston Transcript.

Niece of Poet Resigns Office

1916

Boston, Sept. 9. — Mrs. Marian Longfellow, a niece of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, the poet, announced her resignation, last night, as vice-president of the International Longfellow Society of Portland, Me., explaining that she disapproved of the methods employed by that society.

"I am president of the Longfellow Birthplace Association of Boston. Both societies are trying to preserve the Longfellow birthplace in Portland, but while I am in full sympathy with the aims of the other society I simply cannot approve of its methods. For that reason I have come to the conclusion that I cannot continue my membership in it," said Mrs. Longfellow.

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 12, 1916, p. 6.

$1,000 an Acre From Dandelions

1901

The dandelion is but little grown in this country as a vegetable other than in some parts of New England. Some of the market gardeners in the vicinity of Boston claim to have taken as much as $1,000 worth from an acre. The variety known as the improved French thick leaved is the best and most generally grown. It is not at all particular as to soil or situation — in fact, it will thrive anywhere — but the larger profits are made in growing it on heavy loam, with good tilth. The seed should be sown soon after May 1, but good results are obtained when grown as a second crop, the seed being sown as late as Aug. 1.

The soil should be finely prepared as the seeds are very small, and the young plants because of their dark color are quite inconspicuous. Sow in drills one foot apart and cover thinly. Roll the ground after sowing. In order to see where the rows are a little lettuce seed should be mixed with it, say two ounces to the acre. The lettuce will plainly show the rows. Cultivate in summer so that weeds will not grow. Upon the approach of cold weather cover with any coarse litter and remove same in early spring. One quarter of a pound of seed is sufficient for an acre, says Rural New Yorker in conclusion to the foregoing.

Ends Long Hike

1919

Man Walks From Chicago to Lynn, Mass., in 22 Days.

BOSTON, Massachusetts — Michael Doyle, the champion pedestrian of Lynn and one of the best known walkers in New England, has completed his walk from Chicago to Lynn, covering the distance in twenty-two days and eighteen hours. His friends declare that he made the distance in a few hours less than the record made several years ago by Weston.

When Doyle arrived in Lynn no one was about to greet him. His friends had expected him to reach the city later and had waited up to give him a reception. When he arrived he visited a barber shop and then repaired to his home for rest. He completed the last leg of his long hike from North Brookfield, Mass., to Lynn, a distance of sixty-seven miles, between noon and morning.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 10.

Little Waldo Suffers

1910

"It's disgusting," said Mrs. Waldo Beaconhill of Boston; "the makers of children's blocks never think of putting Greek letters on them; and there is my poor little Emerson simply dying of ennui for the want of a good fairy tale in words of moderately extensive syllabification."



Slap on the Wrist

Tightwad — Did you ever notice, my dear, that nearly all these misers reported in the papers are single men?
Mrs. Tightwad — Yes; but that's only natural. Married misers are too common to be worth mentioning.

Wave Tosses Fisherman Out of Dory in Storm

1915

Victim of Accident Drowns Out From Boston

BOSTON, Mass., Dec. 16 — Just as the fishing schooner Elk, Capt. Patrick Murphy, arrived at the Fish Pier, South Boston, in the gray of dawn the other morning, with her colors at half-mast, Philip Kusa, aged 24, one of two men lost from the schooner a fortnight ago during a gale on Browns' Bank, came in aboard the Yarmouth steamer, reporting that his dorymate, Gordon Goodwin, aged 22, of East Publico, Mass., had been washed from his dory and drowned.

The drowned man was a brother of Griffin Goodwin of the schooner Flavilla.

The Elk had been fishing on Browns' for several days. One morning recently, the dorymen, fishing two in a boat, were out hauling trawls. At sundown, Kusa, making his first fishing trip, and Goodwin failed to report aboard.

There was a high wind blowing and a terrific sea. Captain Murphy sailed about searching for the two men, but without success.

Meanwhile the two dorymen were battling with a terrible sea. Their little boat was tossed about like an eggshell. Finally a vicious wave washed Goodwin clean out of the boat, while Kusa clung on for dear life.

Unable to do anything to save his companion young Kusa clung to his boat and watched his companion sink. All that night he was tossed about by the waters and all next day. About 5 o'clock that night, weak from lack of food and drink and unnerved by the fearful experience of seeing Goodwin drown, Kusa was picked up by the schooner Pauline.

The schooner landed him at Shelbourne and he secured passage to this port.

Courtesy to Women

1920

We used to forgive the vaudevillians who coined patter about the gentlemen who occupy the trolley seats while less aggressive female passengers cling to the straps, says the Boston Post. That was because the same vaudevillians also cracked those ancient Brooklyn slanders, which caused us to think that both were part and parcel of the "original" production.

It is getting past that point now. Boston is suffering from the same capitulation to selfishness, to smugness and to irreverence. A woman, in a recent letter to the Post, complaining of the jams in tunnel and subway stations, touched a matter that concerns not only politics and economics, but sociology. For the bitterest lines in her letter are those describing an attempt to force an entrance into an "L" train during the rush hour. "I made three attempts," she writes, "and was hurled back by a mob of males (you couldn't call them men), and finally the fourth train I got in, and was almost crushed doing so."

This indicates that, for what reason philosophers will, we have got farther away than is good for us from the simple, honest acceptance of courtesy and comity.

A Bird's Long Journey

1878

During the great snow storm of January an adult female Louisiana tanager was seen to approach a house in Lynn, in which there were canaries hanging near the window. An open cage, with food was placed just out of the door, into which the bird at once entered and allowed itself to be captured. It was to all appearances a wild bird, and, though very hungry, was not in a wasted condition. This bird had its home during the summer months in the region between the Great Plains and the Pacific. In winter it visits Mexico and Central America.

The great snow storm of January, as is known, began on the Pacific coast of Mexico, passing north and east, with violent winds, progressing about 1,000 miles every twenty-four hours. It seems more than probable that the bird was caught in its vortex, prevented by the stormy currents of air from returning, and driven onward some four or five thousand miles to our inhospitable coast. —Boston Journal

A woman in St. Louis had her nose broken last week by the explosion of a toy steam-engine with which her children were playing.

Never strike a mustache when it is down.

Tales of Two Nickels and a Five-Dollar Gold Piece

1903

TALES OF TWO NICKELS

Singular Things That Happened to Street Car Travelers.

It was in a Boston street car. When the car stopped at a crossing, a lady got up and went to the door. As she rose there was the chink of a coin on the floor, but before it occurred to any one to stop her, she was out of the car and across the street. Two ladies, who had sat next to her looked with anxious indifference on the floor. One of them leaned slightly forward, but said nothing. Just as the conductor was reaching for the bell-rope a young man spied the coin, and dashed out of the car. He caught the lady who had left the car, handed her the coin, ran back, caught the step of the car as the motors began to sing in crescendo, and sat down breathless. One of the two ladies opposite him leaned forward and said coldly, "Young man, what did you do with the nickel I dropped?" The passengers tittered. An old man at the other end of the car turned to his neighbor, "That reminds me," he said, "of something that happened to my wife years ago.

"It was before the days of conductors, when we used to drop nickels into a slot, and they ran down a groove to the box behind the driver.

"My wife had started out with a little change and one of those troublesome five-dollar gold pieces which used to be more commonly in circulation than they are now. Her eyes were not good, and so she was nervous about her gold piece, and had it on her mind all the way downtown.

"When she took a car for home, she met a friend, and grew interested in conversation with her. She put her coin in the slot absentmindedly. The driver turned as it struck the box. You remember the coin fell into a glass compartment first, and then the driver pushed a lever which sent it into the strong box below.

"As my wife heard the click of the lever, she thought of her five-dollar gold piece. She looked in her purse. Sure enough it was gone. She went forward and spoke to the driver. He said he hadn't looked very carefully, but he thought there were only three nickels in the glass receptacle when he pushed the lever.

"My wife insisted. The driver said if she would ride to the end of the line, the cashier at the station would open the box. This meant a journey of two miles beyond our street, and my wife was in a hurry.

"An old gentleman who sat by the door said he was going to the end of the line, and offered to give her $4.95, and get the gold piece at the station. My wife thanked him and took the money. When she got home she found the $5 gold piece in the lining of her purse.

"Next day I went to the station. The cashier said an old gentleman had made him open the box. There was no gold piece. The old gentleman had left in a rage, refusing to give his name. He said he had been swindled, and did not want to be known for a fool.

"We advertised in the papers, but we never heard from him. — Youth's Companion.

—Davenport Daily Republican, Davenport, Iowa, March 4, 1903, page 3.