1933

- posted by pioneergirl at 11:25 PM

 
"so long as we keep on eating, we don't have to do the dishes"
Yesterday, being International Pancake Day, seemed like a good day to make some buckwheat pancakes. While Laura Ingalls Wilder writes about pancakes in almost every "Little House" books (no pancakes in On the Banks of Plum Creek), readers most often associate them with Almanzo Wilder, who seems to be able to eat enough pancakes in one sitting to feed a family of four. Mother Wilder cooks ten pancakes at a time in Farmer Boy, and the family eats "pile after pile" of them. In The Long Winter, it's learned that Almanzo can make even better pancakes than his mother, and he eats at least twenty-one of them in one sitting. He didn't bother to count the ones he ate while Royal was doing the chores.

Do you know what Mother Wilder's pancake rule was? In the "Little House" books, a rule is the same as a receipt, which is the same as a recipe. In my case, I should have remembered the rule not to run get your camera to photograph pancakes while you still have some on the stove, because that batch will surely burn. The fantastic Little House Cookbook (by Barbara Walker, 1979) contains recipes for both buckwheat pancakes (The Long Winter) and pancake men (Little House in the Big Woods), but here's a recipe for common pancakes, courtesy of Godey's Lady's Book and Magazine, September 1874:

Make a light batter of three spoonfulls of flour, three eggs well beaten, and half a pint of milk, some of which, with the eggs, is to be mixed with the flour; to the other part, put a quarter of a pound of butter melted. Then mix altogether, and put into the frying-pan in a very thin layer. Fry with lard or dripping; but do not put any butter into the pan to fry them after the first frying, as they will give out enough afterwards to keep up the stock. Sugar should be served to eat with them. Or, when eggs are scarce, make the batter with flour, small beer, ginger, etc. Or, clean snow with flour, and very little milk will serve, but not nearly as well as eggs.

A couple of fun pancake trivia bits from the LH books:

In The Long Winter, Pa is invited to eat pancakes and bacon with Royal and Almanzo. There was molasses on the table and the coffeepot was boiling. In the manuscript, the boys send Pa home with a bottle of molasses. Awwwwww!!

In Little House on the Prairie, Laura and Mary wake up to the smell of bacon and coffee and they hear pancakes sizzling. In the manuscript, it's that they could smell bacon and coffee and see Ma frying pancakes. In one version of the manucript, they could see her frying them in the spider over some coals.

I listened hard, and I couldn't hear much sizzling coming from my pancakes.
- posted by pioneergirl at 9:31 PM

 
it's the middle of february and there's no more wheat

At the beginning of Chapter 23 ("The Wheat in the Wall") in Laura Ingalls Wilder's The Long Winter, Laura asks what month it is, to which Ma replies that "It is the middle of February." The middle of February was when the Ingalls family ran out of wheat, and soon, all thoughts would be on the effort by Almanzo Wilder and Cap Garland to make the dangerous journey to find more.

While visiting De Smet for Old Settler's Day in the 1930s, Laura Ingalls Wilder also "went looking" for Mr. Anderson, the soddy-dwelling Hard Winter bachelor who not only managed to grow 30-40 bushels of wheat per acre of virgin sod, but also dared to want to hang onto that seed instead of selling it to save the town of De Smet from starvation (pay no attention to those cows in the barn), while Almanzo Wilder was mythologized into a figure of heroic proportions for talking Mr. Anderson out of that wheat instead of parting with his own.

Mr. Anderson's grand-daughter wrote:

While visiting my brother several years ago, he told me about Laura Ingalls Wilder, and three other ladies from De Smet, South Dakota, driving out to my grandfather's farm in North Preston, a rural community North and East of Lake Preston, to verify the fact about the men coming to his sod shanty for the purchase of the wheat, before writing the book. They arrived in an open two-seated buggy, similar to a surrey with the fringe on top. I have heard from many of the old timers and neighbors that my grandfather could and did drive a hard bargain upon occasion and the chapter in the book confirms this fact. This chapter is Chapter 27, For Daily Bread...

It turns out that this Anderson grandfather wasn't even in Kingsbury County during the Hard Winter, nor was her other grandfather, also an early homesteader. But it's interesting to note that Laura went looking for Mr. Anderson in a totally different direction than he is said to be in Pioneer Girl, the Hard Winter manuscript, and in The Long Winter.

Wilder's The Hard Winter manuscript - both the version handwritten in orange school tablets and the typed copy sent to agent George Bye (folder label shown above) - are archived in The Burton Historical Collection of the Detroit Public Library. The manuscript for These Happy Golden Years is also part of the collection.
- posted by pioneergirl at 6:04 PM

 
"what do you say, laura?"

When all the trading was done, the storekeeper gave Mary and Laura each a piece of candy. They were so astonished and so pleased that they just stood looking at their candies... Both pieces of candy were white, and flat and thin and heart-shaped. There was printing on them, in red letters. - Little House in the Big Woods, Chapter 9, "Going to Town"

In the 1860s, Daniel Chase of Massachusetts began printing mottoes on lozenge candy that had been rolled, pressed, and cut into hearts, horseshoes, miniature postcards, or other shapes.

In Little House in the Big Woods, Laura Ingalls Wilder writes that at the store in Pepin, Wisconsin, Mary and Laura were given candy hearts with sayings on them. Laura's said "Sweets to the Sweet" - Mary's had a whole poem on it: "Roses are red / Violets are blue / Sugar is sweet - And so are you." Popular for weddings, early conversation candies may even have been printed with the saying found in These Happy Golden Years: "Married in black, you'll wish yourself back."

You can easily make your own "Little House" candy hearts using the same ingredients found in the original: powdered sugar, corn syrup, water and gelatin. They can easily be tinted and/or flavored.

To make the hearts, first: wash your hands! Then measure 1 teaspoon Knox gelatin, 1/4 cup water, and 1 teaspoon light Karo syrup in a microwave-safe bowl. Stir, microwave on high for about 20 seconds, and stir until well mixed.

Pour the gelatin mixture into the bowl of an electric mixer with a paddle attachment. You can mix them by hand but it will be much, much harder. Add powdered sugar - a half cup at a time (you'll need a one pound box, plus a little extra for rolling and cutting) - mixing well after each addition. Stop and scrape the sides of the bowl often. The mixture will go from a watery liquid to a dough that is quite stiff.

Once you've reached the "play-doh" stage, remove the ball of dough to a wooden cutting board dusted lightly with powdered sugar. Knead until smooth and elastic, then roll flat. I used 8mm diameter knitting needles on either side of the dough in order to roll to a uniform thickness. It's best to work in small batches, since the dough immediately starts to dry. Cover unworked dough with a moist towel, or a thin crust will form while you're waiting.

Cut the flattened dough into heart shapes using a cookie cutter, and place candies onto a piece of parchment paper to dry for at least 24 hours before stamping; the ink will run if the candies aren't completely dry. This recipe will make about forty 2-inch hearts.

I used an inexpensive printing kit from the office supply store to make stamps with the sayings from the "Little House" book; use food-safe ink for stamping. You can also write directly onto the dry candies with a food-safe marker. In the past, I've used these stamps to made fimo hearts to use as Christmas decorations; I've also stamped shrink plastic to make tiny hearts to dangle from a ribbon bookmark (make sure you punch a hole in the plastic before shrinking). If you're careful, you can also stamp royal frosting on heart-shaped cookies. And... you can even use them on paper Valentine's Day hearts in greeting cards!
- posted by pioneergirl at 2:14 PM

 
"a kiss without a mustache is like an egg without salt"

How well do you know Laura Ingalls Wilder's "Little House" mustachioed friends and family members? Almanzo Wilder grew a mustache after his marriage, and he apparently sported one for the rest of his life.

Some of these photos are easy to identify; a couple might be new to you. Come back on Monday to see how well you did. xxx and Happy Birthday, Almanzo!
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THE MAN BEHIND THE MUSTACHE: A. Hiram Ingalls (Laura's uncle), B. Charles Tinkham (the "bald-headed furniture guy"), C. Elmer McConnell (Ida's beau), D. Thomas Ruth (the banker who could afford to burn lumber), E. Royal Wilder, F. Cap Garland (he could make the toughest railroader back down), G. Joseph Carpenter (crew of the sailing craft "Edith"), H. Almanzo Wilder, I. Ben Woodworth (lived in the depot), J. Thomas Thayer (Eliza Jane's first husband), K. Johnny Johnson (he slept with the cows), L. Peter Ingalls (Laura's cousin), M. Eleck Nelson (Plum Creek neighbor), N. Jacob Hopp (newspaperman and printer), O. Almanzo Wilder, P. Charley Power (he got up off a pin)
- posted by pioneergirl at 9:35 PM

 
the latest and newest under the sun

Desiring to give a new zest to social gatherings someone not long ago hit upon the device of Wristlet Parties -- so called from each lady invited being required to furnish a pair of wristlets for the occasion; one of which she retained for her own use, its fellow being forwarded to the party committee. On the evening appointed for the gathering, each gentleman-guest before entering the room selected a wristlet from a basket outside; and then proceeded to look up the lady wearing its fellow, upon whom he was bound to dance attendance until the party broke up. - Chamber's Journal of Popular Literature, 1880

In Laura Ingalls Wilder's By the Shores of Silver Lake (Chapter 21, "Merry Christmas"), Mr. Boast's present is a pair of wristlets, knitted in red and gray stripes. Laura doesn't tell us whether these stripes were horizontal or vertical. Ma had made the wristlets for Pa, but "the company must have Christmas presents" (the Boasts had arrived unexpectedly on Christmas eve), and Ma could always knit more. Mr. Boast was pleased with his gift, which fitted him perfectly.

A wristlet was pulled on over the hand and was worn against bare skin and covering the wrist; it added an extra layer of protection between the coat sleeve and the glove. While Mr. Boast's wristlets may have been shaped to flare slightly below the thumb and/or over the muscles of the forearm, they also could have been knitted tubes from four to eight (or more) inches long. The wristlets pictured were knitted of fisherman's wool - 42 stitches around on size 8 needles - with ribbing at each end. They were felted slightly for added warmth.

Wristlets can also be knitted or crocheted with either a thumb-slit or thumb-tube; these are often called "fingerless gloves." They are quite fashionable today, and with fingers and thumb free, they allow for dexterity not possible in full gloves or mittens while still offering some warmth and protection. Today, a small purse with a strap is also called a wristlet, but this was not the item described in the "Little House" book!

It was believed that wearing a warm pair of wristlets was almost equal to an additional garmet for keeping the whole body warm. The blood at pulse points was said to be very close to the surface, and by keeping this area protected, the whole circulation was favorably improved. (American Agriculturist, 1873) Knitted wristlets were worn by young and old, and were often finished at the hand by a narrow fringe, crocheted border, or knitted ruffle.
- posted by pioneergirl at 10:15 PM

 
that dakota winter
An interesting way to research conditions in De Smet during the Hard Winter of 1880-1881 is to read newspaper accounts, written both during the winter itself and years or decades later. As more time passed between experiences and the telling of them, the more desperate and even fanciful the accounts became. Laura Ingalls Wilder's The Long Winter is one woman's story.

This article from De Smet was published in May 1881.

On the 6th of May the first passenger train and the first freight train on the Dakota Central Railway reached us from the East since about January 18th. The first mail by cars came May 1st. On February 16th some letters were brought, but no papers, by six men who were sent out with a hand-sled from Tracy to Pierre - about 250 miles. They had a hard trip. The next mail came to De Smet March 4th, and was brought by team and sled. Papers and letters came then. March 6th was the pleasantest day we had had in three months. It thawed a little. March 15th I found snow over the top of my barn on two sides, and the horses snowed in, with seven feet of snow against the stable door. Notwithstanding the weather, hens then commenced laying. We have gritty chickens out here. Mail arrived again by horse and sled at this date, and continued to arrive in the same way about once in two weeks till May 1st. No mail was taken out from January 18th until March 10th. Why our letters were not allowed to go out by the same teams which went East for the mail nobody knows. There was a reason for it, probably, but we can only surmise.

In my diary of April 12th (and it is correct), is the memorandum: "Took, as it has twice a week for three months, till noon to feed and water two horses. Drifts this morning at barn above top of door; snow still flying some." On April 15th wild geese appeared in large flocks. April 16th I had my last sleigh-ride of seven miles; snow very soft and deep. From that date it thawed fast, and in a week the snow was all gone, except here and there a drift, and our dry lakes which abound in Kingsbury, and adjoining counties were suddenly filled with water, and every time the wind blows the whitecaps roll to the shore on the waves where last July we were all running mowers and cutting from two to six tons to the acre of the choicest round-stem hay, which, with no grain, has kept horses and cattle fat, all through the dreary winter. We shall have to cut blue-joint and fine hay on the higher land this year, and cannot get in such an overflowing abundance either, but shall probably have enough.

On April 25th, prairie fires were to be seen all about us. Ten days before the snow was twenty inches deep, or nearly that, on a level. The rapid change to dry prairie grass and fires seemed marvelous. We are now (May 6th) in the middle of sowing wheat, oats and planting potatoes.

The supply of flour on this road was exhausted about February 18th, and from that time till today everybody, nearly, has had to grind wheat in coffee mills for bread. Meat and sugar were long ago exhausted, except fresh beef, which disappeared only two weeks since. Soft coal had been $20 a ton, the last flour was $5 a hundred, and potatoes 75 cents a bushel and very scarce.

Until March the snow was so soft as to be impassible for horses, and the only way any one could go any where to any distance was to follow the railroad grade, which cold generally be found, and on which one could not get lost even where the road could not be recognized, for the telegraph poles were a guide to the general location of the track.

On April 18th the writer found a man who had a little yellow sugar, which he would not sell for money. He was shown eighteen fresh-laid eggs, and told that money would not buy them, but that three pounds of that sugar could. We traded. From the middle of March to the middle of April we drove horses and loaded sleighs on the crust of the snow. We had the best of roads over drifts from six to ten feet deep. Prior to that time we could hardly go anywhere.

The timber claim wheat has stood between us and starvation the past winter. The Timber Culture law provides that five acres of each timber claim (one claim every square mile) must be broken the first year and cultivated the next, and many of the settlers who came in a year ago -- and nearly all of us did -- were glad to put in a little wheat on these five acre patches. They sowed better than they knew. The price of wheat has been almost uniformly $1 a bushel.

The weather is delightful - 88 in the shade to-day - but the ever-present southwest winds cool one off so pleasantly, that he is surprised to learn that it is in fact a hot day.
- posted by pioneergirl at 11:50 PM

 
borrowed names

Borrowed Names: Poems About Laura Ingalls Wilder, Madam C.J. Walker, Marie Curie, and Their Daughters. By Jeannine Atkins, to be released in March. If you haven't done so already, pre-ordering is a great way to celebrate Laura Ingalls Wilder's birthday! CLICK HERE for a preview.
- posted by pioneergirl at 1:05 PM

 
it's hard to be humble
The March 2010 issue ofCountry Living ™ magazine mentions Pepin and Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House in the Big Woods in their "It's Hard to be Humble When You're From Wisconsin" story, a feature in each issue about attractions in a different state. It's not the first time "Little House" has been included. Check it out!
- posted by pioneergirl at 11:51 PM

 
ida and laura would have nothing to do

[Mr. Owen] told Laura and Ida that their part in the Exhibition would be to recite the whole of American history, from memory... "I'm glad you've got the longer part, anyway," said Ida. "I've only got to remember from John Quincy Adams to Rutherford B. Hayes, but you've got all that about the discoveries and the map and the battles, and the Western Reserve and the Constitution. My! I don't know how you ever can!" -- Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little Town on the Prairie, Chapter 23, "Schooltime Begins Again"

Had Laura and Ida been in school in North Carolina today instead of 1880s Dakota Territory, Mr. Owen would have had to change their parts in the School Exhibition. North Carolina schools propose to begin the teaching of American history at the high school level (in the eleventh grade) with the presidency of Rutherford B. Hayes, 1877-1881; President Hayes is shown above.

Educators in North Carolina say that by throwing a significant chunk of American history out of the curriculum, students would be able to spend their time in high school focusing on more recent history. After all, a lot has gone on since 1877, and it's not like earlier American history wouldn't have been covered in grammar and middle school. Can it only follow that the next step would be to make sure that no later American history is covered in grammar or middle school?

When you heard the story on the news tonight, did you, too, immediately think of Laura Ingalls and Ida Wright and their recitation of the whole of American history? Did you remember enough American history on your own to realize that Ida's part should have also covered James Garfield and mentioned Chester A. Arthur?
- posted by pioneergirl at 10:35 PM

 
snakeoil is snakeoil, even if the salesman calls himself 'professor'

"An intellectual is one of the intelligentsia. One of the intelligentsia is one whose head is full of ideas derived from * (repeat X times from asterisk) Plato and on mythilical prehistoric Lycurgus.

"While an intellectual may be mistaken, at a distance, or while in rapid flight, or by an inexperienced intellectual-watcher, for a specimen of the human species, he or she may easily be distinguished by a number of typical characteristics. The intellectual, male or female, is incapable of obtaining food by direct effort and is invariably parasitic. Habitats are foundations, colleges, governments, non-profit organizations.

"Absence of mind may be noted. An intellectual may often be heard twittering, in self-congratulatory tones, 'I'm not absent-minded!' or sounds to that effect. Another frequent note is 'I forgot.' An alert ear will hear these in the intellectual's stream of chattering; no intellectual is ever silent when awake and none has yet been observed sleeping. The eye appears normal but is able to see nothing but print; an intellectual sees nothing before his nose unless it be a book.

"Mr. Walter Lipmann, a typical intellectual, recorded in 1933 the fact that he had learned in college 20 years earlier that there are no more opportunities in America since there is no more free land (Note: Cherokees Run, last large tract of land thrown open to homesteading, 1879. Greatest number of homesteaders in late 1920s; largest number of acres homesteaded in the year 1932. Homestead act repealed, 1933) and added, 'I have seen nothing since then to lead me to modify the view then formed that nothing remains to be done but to divide more equitably the wealth already created.'

"This unusually coherent statement by an intellectual himself verifies the general observation of the intellectuals' inability to see anything but print... The intellectual believes any printed statement.

"Intellectuals never are seen singly; they live, read and speak in compact groups and move in flocks. If one goes to Paris, all go to Paris; if one goes to Taos, all go to Taos. Their unanimity in twittering is striking, and it is observed that frequently, and always simultaneously, the flock changes its twitter. So far as is known, a twitter once discarded is never again repeated...

"An eagerness to be in print is also characteristic, presumably derived from the peculiar structure of the eye; hence the common name of the species, often heard in the vulgate as apply to a single specimen, 'publicity hound.'"

-Rose Wilder Lane, 1949
- posted by pioneergirl at 1:14 PM

 
the great american buffer zone
In Laura Ingalls Wilder's Farmer Boy, Almanzo Wilder questions a conversation between his father and Mr. Paddock at the 4th of July celebration, during which Father says, "It was axes and plows that made this country." Father Wilder later explains:

"We fought for Independence, son," Father said. "But all the land our forefathers had was a little strip of country, here between the mountains and the ocean. All the way from here west was Indian country, and Spanish and French country. It was farmers that took all that country and made it America...

"...the Spaniards were soldiers, and high-and-mighty gentlemen that only wanted gold. And the French were fur-traders, wanting to make quick money. And England was busy fighting wars. But we were farmers, son; we wanted land. It was farmers that went over the mountains, and cleared the land, and settled it, and farmed it, and hung onto their farms.

"This country goes three thousand miles west, now. It goes 'way out beyond Kansas, and beyond the Great American Desert, over mountains bigger than these mountains, and down to the Pacific Ocean. It's the biggest country in the world, and it was farmers who took all that country and made it America, son. Don't you ever forget that." --Farmer Boy, Chapter 16, "Independence Day"

I've read this exchange hundreds of times, and this reading, what made me stop and think was the phrase: Great American Desert. This is the only "Little House" book that includes it. It's not in the Farmer Boy manuscript; in fact, Almanzo's only thought about Independence in the manuscript is that he didn't remember seeing either the lion that got its tail twisted or the eagle that screamed. He liked the drums and he liked the fifes, but that was about it. And I'm guessing that a lot of readers plow straight through Father Wilder's speech (added, I suspect, by Rose Wilder Lane) without giving it much thought.

Pop quiz: On the map shown, locate the boundaries of the Great American Desert at the time of Farmer Boy (circa 1866, if that makes a difference).

General George Armstrong Custer writes about the Great American Desert in his My Life on the Plains (published in 1876):

There was a time that every schoolboy, supposed to possess the rudiments of a knowledge of the geography of the United States, could give the boundaries and a general description of the Great American Desert.

As to the boundary the knowledge seemed to be quite explicit: on the north bounded by the Upper Missouri, on the east by the Lower Missouri and Mississippi, on the south by Texas, and on the west by the Rocky Mountains. The boundaries on the northwest and south remained undisturbed, while on the east civilization, propelled and directed by Yankee enterprise, adopted the motto, "Westward the star of empire makes its way." Countless throngs of emigrants crossed the Mississippi and Missouri rivers, selecting homes in the rich and fertile territories lying beyond. Each year this tide of emigration, strentghened and increased by the flow from foreign shores, advanced toward the setting sun, slowly but surely narrowing the preconceived limits of the Great American Desert, and correspondingly enlarging the limits of civilization.

At last the geographical myth was dispelled. It was gradually discerned that the Great Americcan Desert did not exist, that it had no abiding place, but that within its supposed limits, and instead of what had been regarded as a sterile and unfruitful tract of land, incapable of sustaining either man or beast, there existed the fairest and richest portion of the national domain, blessed with a climate pure, bracing, and healthful, while its undeveloped soil rivalled if it did not surpass the most productive portions of the Eastern, Middle, or Southern States.

Discarding the name Great American Desert, this immense tract of country, with its eastern boundary moved back by civilization to a distance of nearly three hundred miles west of the Missouri river, is now known as The Plains...

The Great American Desert first appeared as the Great Desert on an 1820 map by Stephen Long (1784-1864), American engineer, explorer, and inventor. You can see Long's map HERE.

After several mapping expeditions through land acquired as the Louisiana Purchase, Long declared that a large portion of it was unfit for habitation and was only useful as a "buffer" between the eastern (wooded) part of the country and the lands held by the Spanish, British, and Russians. It was also where hostile Indians lived, tribes Long had run into a time or two during his own exploration. In 1820, Long wrote that the Great Plains region:

"...is almost wholly unfit for cultivation, and of course uninhabitable by a people depending upon agriculture for their subsistence. Although tracts of fertile land considerably extensive are occasionally met with, yet the scarcity of wood and water, almost uniformly prevalent, will prove an insuperable obstacle in the way of settling the country. This region, however, may prove of infinite importance to the United States, inasmuch as it is calculated to serve as a barrier to prevent too great an extension of our population westward, and secure us against the machinations or incursions of an enemy."

Long's label kept settlers from the area for a while, but his misconceptions about the area were soon noted. After all, Long came from New Hampshire, and his idea of what "desirable" land looked like was based on his home state. Note that Father Wilder's definition of the Great American Desert is slightly broader than Custer's.

Westward the star of empire made its way...
- posted by pioneergirl at 4:56 PM