The Modern Figure

1917

Milady's Boudoir

The modern corset for the beauty figures is a bit higher busted, and curves in a wee bit more at the waist than they have for a decade past, but the finished effect is one of suppleness and natural curves. Anything like rigidity or the stiffness caused by tight lacing is avoided and the new corset is quite as comfortable as the almost boneless model, reaching just above the waistline, which the "natural figure" demanded. Figures are better taken care of by the corset, which offers a little support to the bust and rises just high enough above the waistline not to cut into the flesh when its wearer bends or sits, as the very low girdle corset was apt to do.

This support of the bust is essential in the new basque frock or the snug-fitting girdle dividing bodice and skirt. If they are fitted over a low-bust corset, the unsupported bust bulges over the upper edge and gives a bad line.

The brassiere is an important adjunct to the modern figure, for the new corset-covers of net and chiffon are soft and transparent and something must be worn to hide the corset and break the top line. If the outer blouse is not of transparent stuff, brassieres and corset-cover may be combined in one garment. The material must be firm enough to hold the figure, but under the blouse or chiffon bodice, which demands an equally flimsy corset cover, must be worn a little brassiere of one sort or another.


Every Day Etiquette

"When a new employee comes into the office and is introduced to me, should I rise and shake hands or simply acknowledge the introduction while sitting?" inquired Mabel, the stenographer.

"It is a business affair. You should certainly rise but need not shake hands unless he extends his hand to you. A courteous bow is only necessary in such cases," said her older business friend.

Federal Clerks Receive Small Salaries

1910

By Arthur Blanchard

Government clerks are generally thought to have an easy time by many outsiders, who envy the short hours and supposedly large pay of those who labor in the big department buildings of Washington.

The facts are entirely at variance with the popular conception. The employees of Uncle Sam have had no increase of salary for years and most of them are getting exactly the same pay their predecessors drew 50 years ago.

This affects a multitude of honest, hard-working men and women who are just able to make ends meet on their scanty stipends. The condition, indeed, so far from being enviable, is pitiable.

Realizing that conditions had vastly changed and that it requires far more to live decently now than it did in 1880, or even later, Congress, a little while back, raised the salaries of senators and members of the House from $5,000 to $7,500 a year, an increase of 50 per cent.

The country at large found no fault with this piece of self-conferred liberality.

Now it is up to Congress to be as just toward many thousands of government clerks as it was generous toward itself.

Investigations lately made show that a lot of these people are forced to take their children from school to help in the family support while others are continually in the clutches of usurious money lenders.

Good Business Men

1899

Richard Cadbury, who died in Jerusalem in the spring of the present year, was one of those hard-working men who build up their own fortunes, and in doing so make the fortunes of many whom they employ. When his father died, thirty-eight years ago in Birmingham, England, Richard and his brother George found themselves the proprietors of a grocery business, one of the features of which was the manufacture of cocoa and chocolate. In it were employed a dozen men.

The sons determined to devote themselves entirely to the making of chocolate and cocoa. To-day the firm employs twenty-four hundred people in its extensive works on the outskirts of Birmingham, and the populous little town of Bournville is wholly dependent on the Cadbury enterprise for its existence.

It was, however, in relation to his workmen and workwomen that the best side of the successful business man was manifested. As prosperity came to him he allowed a share of it to fall in their way. And he not only showed by his conduct that he believed master and men to be one in aim and interest, but also that he recognized a higher Master of the business than Richard Cadbury.

The day's labors were always begun by gathering the people together for a few minutes of quiet acknowledgment of dependence on the goodness of God, and His ever-mindful care.

Richard Cadbury and his brother had a personal interest in every worker. When the women left the firm to get married, — the only thing they ever left for, — the brothers knew just where they went and how they were getting on. Such simple friendliness between employer and employed is the best check to the spirit of suspicion that in the present day divides the worker from the capitalist. — Youth's Companion.

Loses Life But Saves Hundreds

Printed Jan. 1908

Tunnel Track Walker Wins Glory In His Death

New York. — A few laboring men dropped around to Tommy Ryan's house on West Forty-ninth street "to help pack up and move." They took their hats off in the dark hall below and walked up the stairs with muffled feet. In the front room a neighbor's daughter was trying to amuse two pretty babies, one four and the other two years old.

Tom Ryan, big, hearty, good-natured Tom, who loved his wife and children, was not there. He was buried and his two babies were cared for at the home of a neighbor while his friends followed him to the grave. The children do not know he is dead. Neither does his wife, who is sick unto death in a hospital where for four weeks she has been battling with typhoid fever. She thinks that she is so sick that the nurses will not let her see even her husband. And no one, not even the hospital physicians, have yet dared take the responsibility of letting her know the truth.

This story should interest those persons who took the 9 p.m. local train for Westchester county from the Grand Central. Their train went safely through the tunnel, carrying them to their waiting families in the suburbs, but they never knew why. They didn't even know that as they passed the signal lamp at Eighty-sixth street in safety their train had swept over the body of the man who had saved them.

Thomas Ryan had been married about a dozen years. His oldest child had died and six months ago, to give his wife and the remaining children the home he wished, he took the hazardous position of lamp man in the New York Central tunnel. He was a sober, industrious man, six feet in his stockings and perfectly healthy. His day began at 6 p.m. and ended at 7 a.m., and it was his duty to patrol the tunnel and keep the lamps burning on the signal towers.

Two weeks ago his wife was taken ill with typhoid fever, and grew rapidly worse. He told his fellow-workers he feared his wife would die before morning. Nevertheless, he set about his task of seeing that the lamps were all right so that the passengers hurrying home would pass in safety. At 9 p.m. he saw that the distance signal lamp on the outbound track three was smoky. He remembered that several accidents costing human live had happened because of smoky lamps.

He ran across the tracks, dodging a down train and reached up for the signal lamp. With his pocket handkerchief he rubbed the chimney bright and turned down the wick a little. As he did this the lamp swung around in answer to the signal tower man, cautioning the up train to go slow. A down train came tearing through the tunnel, making a great noise and drowning the noise of the approach of a train in the opposite direction. Then he stepped down on the track, conscious that he had probably saved an accident — and the next instant the train hit him.

"The engineer, with his eyes on the signal — as was his duty — did not see the shadow that flickered for an instant under the forward wheels. But the track-walkers, passing a few moments after, found the crumpled mass under the light of their lanterns. They found the handkerchief with the lampblack on it, and saw the finger-marks of the man on the signal lamp chimney, and they understood. The case was reported to the police and entered on the station house blotter.

But it was "just a man killed in the tunnel — a trackwalker or a lampman." It was not till days after that a stray word dropped by a trackwalker revealed that big Tom Ryan had given his life to send a trainload of commuters home in safety.

Eccentric Tramp Character Dead

1914

"Johnny" Wire Wealthy, But Dressed and Lived as a Tramp

York, Pa., Jan. 24. — "Johnny" Wire, one of the most familiar figures of York county, died here.

He was known over the county as "the rich tramp." Wire was possessed of a fortune, but dressed as an ordinary tramp, wandering from place to place over the country and walking many miles to get a free meal from some of the farmers.

His brother died some time ago leaving an estate of several hundred thousand dollars. Wire was about seventy years old.


Superstitions of Miners

As a man of perilous occupation, the miner has many superstitions. One widespread belief is that to introduce a rabbit into a mine is to court disaster, and many stories are current of catastrophes heralded by the appearance of a white rabbit to the men who were doomed to die. He would be a bold miner, too, who would whistle at work for whistling is a direct invitation to disaster, and though miners are cleanly folk, very few ever wash the small of their back, lest the roof should fall on them.

Overworked Brewery Employees

1886

To the ordinary tramp, who has to obtain his supply of beer by pouring stale stuff from beer kegs in front of saloons into empty tomato cans, from which he quaffs, and runs chances of having the ragged tin cut a hair lip for him, it would seem that the brewery employees, who are allowed unlimited beer free of cost, have a soft thing.

And yet those men, who can drink beer all day without being compelled to put up the regulation nickel, struck for less hours of work and higher wages. To read the accounts in the papers of the amount of beer the workmen about a brewery drink during the day, the reader does not wonder that the men are overworked and asked a reduction of hours.

It is said that some of the men drink forty glasses of beer per day. Considering that they have to walk nearly a block to the extreme end of the brewery yard, where a gentlemanly agent of the brewing company waits upon them without price, it will be seen that considerable valuable time is lost, besides the wear and tear on the men. Of course the brewery employees are able-bodied men, or they could not stand the strain.

Forty glasses of beer put into a stomach in ten hours would seem to be hard enough work for any one man, if he did nothing else. Then the necessity of walking forty blocks and returning to work, makes eighty blocks per day of pedestrian exercise. This of itself is enough to make an ordinary man tired, if he did not have to carry in his overworked stomach forty glasses of beer.

From the statistics it is plain that the brewery laborers are the most overworked of any class of citizens, and something should be done for them. It may be outside the province of the humane society to step in and protect those men, but certainly there should be some organization that can stand between those men and overwork. What is the matter with the temperance societies, in taking hold of this grievance? If the temperance societies are true to their motto, of "Faith, Hope and Charity," they will see a chance to do a great work.

Let each society detail enough of its members to man a brewery, and do all the work. This would leave the regular employees with nothing to do but walk back and forth between the places where the temperance apostles are at work, and the place where the beer is given away. The temperance people could work for nothing, for Charity; they could have Faith that the regular brewery men would draw their salary all right; and Hope they would have a good time.

If the temperance people kick on this idea, it is possible the brewers might employ temperance men to make the beer and do the work, discharge the old employees who strike, and thus save oceans of beer. But if it is impracticable to employ temperance people, and the brewers feel that things must go right along as before, they can save at least the time that the men lose in marching on the beer keg forty times a day, and save the wear and tear on the men, by a simple device which The Sun will suggest.

Each man could be provided with a coil of hose, the small rubber hose such as is used on infants' nursing bottles. A reel could be fixed on the back of each laborer, containing enough of the small rubber pipe to reach from a central tank of beer to any part of the brewery, with a spring, so that when the pipe is uncoiled, and the laborer returns toward the tank, the slack will be taken up on the reel. A nozzle could be arranged near the mouth of the overworked laborer, so that he could take his sustenance at any moment, wherever he happened to be.

Of course a hundred men with hose reels on their backs would look odd at first, but the oddity would soon wear off. Some may think that the employees of a brewery should pay for their beer, the same as bakers pay for the bread in a bakery where they work, shoemakers pay for their shoes, and journeymen tailors pay for their clothes, but this would be plainly a violation of the constitution of the United States. The strike of the brewery laborers has shown that they are the beat treated of any class of laborers in the country. The only thing the public wonders at is that the brewing companies have not been compelled by their employees to give them a house and lot and horse and buggy each. — Peck's Sun.

A Pair of Hobos – Interfering with Switchman, Found Guilty

Ohio, 1894

A Pair of Hobos

On Trial for Interfering with a Switchman in the Lake Shore Yards

Two men named James Johnson and Thomas McLaughlin were on trial in the Common Pleas court nearly the whole of Thursday on an indictment charging them with interfering with a switchman in the manipulation of switches and signals.

Johnson is a middle aged man who hails from Buffalo and says he is employed in erecting telegraph poles. He also claims to be something of a pugilist, and his looks support his claim. McLaughlin is a younger fellow of 21, who says he is a waiter on board lake steamers, is an innocent looking fellow whose own statements that he has been arrested for vagrancy and drunkenness would astonish any ordinary person not accustomed to criminal court scenes.

The evidence showed that on the night of September 13 a young man named Kimball, who is employed as night switchman in the Lake Shore yards, went to turn the switches and also the target signals which are used to let the trains of the Lake Erie & Western Railroad company enter the Lake Shore depot, when he was confronted by the prisoners who told him they were running things. There were three other hobos in company with the accused. The switchman knocked down one of the men with his lamp and brushed the other aside, thus being enabled to make the switches. There was some delay, however, and a west bound train was detained temporarily. The men were arrested late at night, one while asleep on the target platform and the other while in a drunken sleep in a lot adjoining the railroad right of way.

Mr. W. W. Bowen assisted Prosecutor Mackey for the State and Judge Colver defended the accused. The case went to the jury at 5:30 and an hour later a verdict of guilty was returned.

—The Sandusky Register, Sandusky, Ohio, Dec. 21, 1894, p. 5.

Machinist Given Surprise Birthday Party, Receives New Pipe

Indiana, 1906

BOLINGER WAS SURPRISED

Carl Bolinger, a machinist at the Pennsylvania round house, was greatly surprised Wednesday evening, when fifteen of his shopmates marched in upon him unawares and announced that they had come to celebrate his birthday anniversary. As soon as the callers were divested of their overcoats they surrounded Mr. Bolinger and one of their number, speaking in behalf of all, presented him with a handsome and costly pipe. Games, music and luncheon followed the presentation and the guests declare they never had a more pleasant time.

—The Fort Wayne Sentinel, Fort Wayne, Indiana, January 19, 1906, page 11.

The American Breed, Girls Smoking, Welsh Evangelist

1906

The American Breed

Professor Edward A. Ross, of the University of Nebraska, uses the term "the American breed" to describe what he calls a distinct type of man — the restless, strenuous people so different from the easy-going types of Europe. There are reasons why our immigrants should become nervous and energetic in one or two generations, but Professor Ross seems to think that the restlessness is not acquired here, but is the reason why these types left Europe. America is therefore weeding out the energetic folks from Europe — they are selected, venturesome natures and constitute a type. Whatever the reason is the type is fairly distinct and the chances are that much of our prosperity is due partly to our energy and not altogether to our tariff.


Girls Smoking

Cigarette smoking among girls is stated by the secretary of the Leeds, England, branch of the Anti-Cigarette league to be on the increase. The practice is particularly prevalent among the factory and warehouse girls in Leeds. Many of them, however, have taken the following pledge: "I promise, with God's help, to abstain from purchasing or using tobacco in any form, at least until I reach the age of 21, not only for my own sake, but for the good of my country." The league has now 4,000 pledged members.


Evangelist Endowed

Evan Roberts, the Welsh evangelist, has been given an income of £5 a week for the remainder of his life by will of Mr. Robert Davies, a millionaire philanthropist. Mr. Davies' idea was to enable Mr. Roberts to engage in continuous revival work wherever he felt called upon to go, without having to think too much about the money question.

--The Weekly Sentinel, Fort Wayne, Indiana, April 18, 1906, page 4.

Professor in Rags Talks to Workers

1920--

Tells Clothing Shop Hands Perils of 40-hour Week

BOSTON, Mass., May 20. -- Exhibiting the tattered lining of his coat, Professor William D. Ripley of Harvard told the Amalgamated Clothing Workers' convention here that the public could not afford to buy clothing at present high prices. The workers had just pledged themselves to cut their working hours to forty a week at present wages.

"If you will look at the clothing of more than one-half of the people of the country today you will see that it is well worn, old, or made-over clothing," Professor Ripley said. "You have the problem to work out. Remember that if you ask large profits to divide up between you and forget us, the public will not buy, and there will be nothing to divide."

--The Saturday Blade, Chicago, May 22, 1920, page 4.