Here’s a charming Christmas short story for boys and girls of all ages.
For the first time in his young life, Sidney Martin must spend Christmas alone in the big city. How he wishes he could see his family and share in their spirit of Christmas! Instead, he must spend the long day alone, doing nothing in particular and mattering to no one.
But an odd circumstance may help Sidney realize that the spirit of Christmas is alive in his heart, after all.
Click on the book cover to begin reading Isabella Alden’s 1879 short story, Sidney Martin’s Christmas.
You can find more Isabella Alden free reads by clicking on the Free Reads tab above.
Isabella Alden sometimes used terms or phrases that were common at the time, but have since gone out of use . . . and today’s readers may not have a clue what she means.
On this blog you can now easily find posts that explain some of those words and phrases. Under the Categories list on the right you’ll see a new category for Pansy’s Dictionary. Follow the link to read blog posts that define peculiar words in Isabella’s books. Here are some of the terms we’ve already defined:
Have you come across a word or phrase in Isabella’s books that stumped you? Share it using the comment section below and we’ll define the term in future posts. You’ll be speaking fluent Pansy in no time!
I will give you a general rule, which I have found a great benefit in my Christian life. If you find there is the least doubt in your mind as to the right or wrong of a certain path, give Christ the benefit of the doubt and you will surely be right.
In the book Four Mothers at Chautauqua a certain pongee coat played an important role in the story. It was because of the pongee coat that Miss Hazel Harris met handsome Burnham Roberts. It was the pongee coat that made Burnham’s mother, Flossy Roberts, realize how much Hazel’s family neglected her. And it was gossip about Hazel wearing the pongee coat that set off a fearful argument between Hazel and her aunt.
So what, exactly, is a pongee coat? And what was so special about that coat that everyone in the story seemed to notice it?
When the book was published in 1913, pongee coats were very popular, although not everyone could afford to own one. In those days women’s coats were made out of many different fabrics: serge and wool tweed were staples in cool weather; taffeta and linen in warmer months.
But in summer, when days were warm and nights were only slightly cooler, ladies needed their coats to not only ward off potential chills, but to protect their gowns, skirts and blouses from soiling.
So in summer, women’s coats had to be serviceable but light-weight and cool. Linen and taffeta were, for a long time, the fabrics of choice for summer coats; but about 1903 the fashionable world rediscovered pongee, a type of silk that originated in Shantung China over 3500 years ago.
Pongee silk was a favorite for summer wear because it was cool, soft to the touch, long-wearing, and could be bought in varying weights.
Pongee had one other advantage as a summer fabric . . . it was washable. Unlike taffeta and linen, pongee silk could go right into the laundry tub.
Ivory Soap Flakes included pongee in its list of washable fabrics in this 1920 ad.
An expensive silk that could also be laundered was a fashion game-changer in the early 1900s. By 1905 dressmakers and garment manufacturers had integrated the fabric into their summer designs.
Click on this image to read the full fashion page from the March 20, 1910 edition of the Omaha Sunday Bee.
Pongee’s natural color was a soft ecru, which was very much in vogue; but once a reliable method for dying pongee silk was developed, the fabric could be bought in every imaginable color.
It was also available in varying weights, which meant it could be used in making everything from light-weight blouses and dresses, to parasols, belts and gloves.
It was flexible enough to lend itself to tiny “pinch-tuck” details, and sturdy enough (in medium and heavier weights) to pleat nicely in skirts and tailored jackets.
Click on the image to read the full fashion article about embroidered pongee shirtwaists in a 1911 edition of The Washington Herald.
The fabric was even used to make hats. Pongee silk held shapes well; in lighter weights it was perfect for the layered scarf look so popular in driving hats.
Click on the image to read the full-page article from a 1911 edition of The Washington Herald.
Budget-minded consumers may have made do with shirtwaists and dresses made of gingham (which cost about 6 cents a yard) or cotton muslin (8 cents a yard). But if you wanted your summer clothes to be made of finer fabrics, you had to pay for it.
Article from The San Francisco Call, August 29, 1909. Click on the image to see a larger version.
Prices for pongee silk varied widely. American-made pongee in natural ecru ran about 70 to 80 cents a yard.
By comparison, genuine heavy Chinese pongee suitable for making coats cost $2.00 or more per yard.
Pongee was available in colors, but dyed pongee cost much more than the natural ecru color. Lighter weights of pongee silk also cost more, and they were highly desired because they were used to tailor gowns and shirtwaists.
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Click on the image to read the full fashion article from the May 26, 1907 edition of The Evening Star.
That may explain why Flossy’s pongee coat was so eye-catching. Flossy lent her coat to Hazel Harris because Hazel had nothing to wear for a drive out in Flossy’s carriage. Flossy convinced Hazel to wear her long pongee coat so it would cover Hazel’s cheap and ragged clothes.
A gossip remembered seeing Hazel riding in Flossy’s carriage because Hazel’s coat caught her eye:
“I confess that I stared, especially at her lovely coat; it attracted me almost as much as her face.”
“Her ‘lovely coat’!” repeated Josephine, dazed.
“Yes, she had on a perfectly beautiful coat, heavily embroidered. I don’t think I ever saw a handsomer one. I am very fond of pongee.”
Hazel herself described the coat as a “beautiful coat that fitted her to perfection.”
But generous Flossy believed that it was Hazel who made the coat beautiful:
“She looked lovely in it,” Mrs. Roberts said, thoughtfully. “I didn’t know it was so pretty until I saw it on her.”
A heavily embroidered, colored pongee coat, tailored so it fit close to the body, would have been extravagantly expensive in 1913, and Marion Dennis mentioned that Flossy’s coat cost $30. Compare that with the prices of pongee coats in this ad from a 1910 edition of the Omaha Daily Bee newspaper (click on the image to see a larger version):
Flossy described the moment when the carriage ride came to an end and Hazel had to take the pongee coat off:
“She slipped the coat off in the quietest way as we turned the corner into Terrace Avenue and patted it lovingly as she laid it on the seat and said to it—not to me, mind you, but to it—’Thank you, darling; you are beautiful and I have worn you for two whole hours. I shall never forget you.’ Wasn’t that original and pathetic? She is certainly a very interesting girl. I am quite determined to know more of her.”
And Flossy did get to know Hazel quite well; and since Four Mothers at Chautauqua had a very happy ending, it’s entirely possible that Hazel was one day able to own a pongee coat of her very own.
Docia Myers just received the best birthday gift a girl could get: a new journal of her very own. Now, if only something exciting would happen in her life to write about!
In due course, wonderful things happen for Docia as she grows to womanhood in the care of her loving Christian family. But Docia is not a Christian, and her resistance to accept Christ as her Savior and Friend perplexes everyone around her—until God uses a series of events to reveal to Docia just how much more blessed her life can be when she chooses to walk with Him.
This edition of the 1874 classic Christian novel includes a biography of the author and additional bonus content.
“He was fed on brandy for days and weeks when a child. It was a physician’s prescription, you know.”
That was Mildred Powell’s explanation for Leonard Airedale’s alcohol dependence in the book, One Commonplace Day. In other words, Mildred believed the man she loved wasn’t to blame for his alcoholism—his doctor was.
Then, as now, the medical community and society at large struggled to discover the cause of adult alcoholism. How could some people have a glass of wine or beer on a strictly social basis, while others couldn’t take a sip of the stuff without forming an instant addiction?
In Leonard Airedale’s case, Mildred’s assessment would have made perfect sense. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, doctors often prescribed brandy, beer and other alcoholic drinks to patients, including children.
Dr. Abraham Jacobi, known today as the father of American pediatrics, held alcohol in great esteem as a therapeutic agent for children. He authored several books in the 19th century on pediatric diseases, and influenced the way generations of physicians treated young patients. He believed that alcohol should be given to children to fight infection, and wrote that “There is no better antiseptic than alcohol beverages.”
Abraham Jacobi, M.D.
In cases of typhoid, he wrote, “a child of three or four years may be saved by 100 or 200 ccm. of whiskey given daily, if by nothing else and escape the undertaker.”
And since 100 cubic centimeters of whiskey is equal to about 3-1/3 U.S. fluid ounces, the amount of whiskey he recommended for a three year old child was more than many adults could handle.
But that’s not all. If that daily dose of whiskey wasn’t effective, Dr. Jacobi recommended increasing the amount:
“Septic cases, with high fevers that will not improve after 100 or 200 centimetres of whiskey daily, are apt to do well with two or three times the dose, which, however, will cease to be tolerated as soon as the septic fever has passed by. Indeed I have seen such septic children of three or four years take 500.0 [ccm.] of whiskey a day.” That equates to a full pint of whiskey for a child under the age of five!
Whiskey and brandy were frequently advertised in medical and nursing journals; those same journals then published articles extolling their merits.
A full-page ad in the December 1909 edition of the Interstate Medical Journal
Doctors primarily used brandy as a cardiac stimulant because it appeared to increase cardiac output and blood pressure. But it was also a depressant, so doctors also prescribed it as a sedative for adults, children, and even infants.
Brandy and whiskey weren’t the only alcoholic beverages doctors recommended for health reasons.
Advertisement in the December 1909 edition of the Interstate Medical Journal
In 1895 Anheuser-Busch began advertising a beer product called Malt-Nutrine. The beverage contained 2% alcohol and its target market was women, especially young mothers.
The beverage was advertised in women’s magazines like Cosmopolitan, Munsey’s and Good Housekeeping. The majority of the ads featured images of nursing mothers and their babies. And although Malt-Nutrine had a 2% alcohol content, Anheuser-Busch advertised their product as alcohol free and claimed it gave special nourishment, restful sleep, strength and joyousness to mother and baby.
In other words, nursing mothers who drank Malt-Nutrine passed along its alcoholic effects to their infants.
Anheuser-Busch also advertised their product to physicians. They ran full-page advertisements in medical journals, such as this one in the January 3, 1918 Boston Medical and Surgical Journal:
They had an ingenious marketing plan that included sending artwork to doctors. The artwork incorporated images of their product and was framed or finished in a way that made it suitable for hanging in physician offices where it could be seen by patients and remind physicians to recommend it.
Example of Malt-Nutrine “artwork” sent to physicians
They also ran contests for physicians. One contest encouraged doctors to write in with suggested titles for one of their art promotions; the winning title received a cash award of $250 in gold.
A full-page ad for Pabst Extract offering free calendars to physicians. From the Interstate Medical Journal, December 1909.
Other brewers jumped into the beer-for-health market. Pabst unabashedly marketed their Pabst Extract product as “The Best Tonic” to promote sleep, strengthen nerves and invigorate the exhausted. In their ads to physicians Pabst also gave away free promotional items such as calendars and wall art.
Ad in Vogue Magazine, 1915
Like Anheuser-Busch, Pabst targeted a good portion of their advertising at mothers. And like Anheuser-Busch, Pabst downplayed the alcoholic content of their product and claimed instead that their product was “food” essential to nursing mothers’ health.
This ad in the December 1907 issue of Harper’s Bazar encouraged expectant mother’s to “prepare the way” for baby’s birth by drinking Pabst Extract.
Seattle Brewing Company introduced their own malt product, Malt Rainier, which they, too, marketed to new and nursing mothers.
A 1909 trade card for Rainier Beer
A cartoon of a baby craving beer, about 1900.
Isabella Alden might have had these beers in mind when she created the character of Eben Bruce in One Commonplace Day. Eben was a medical student, studying under the direction of the town doctor. Eben developed a habit of drinking alone in his room when he was supposed to be studying.
His mother was at fault. She had sipped her beer when he was a creeping baby, to give her strength to care for him. He never thought of blaming his mother for the fire that burned in his veins and had roused into power with the first taste of alcohol. Blessed ignorance of babyhood! He did not know that she was to blame. Miserable ignorance of motherhood! She did not know it either.
Unfortunately, some brewers, like The Seattle Brewing Company, weren’t satisfied with just nursing mothers drinking their beer. They wanted the mothers’ children to drink it, too, and they targeted their marketing campaign for Rainier Beer directly at children. At the time, Rainier Beer had an alcohol content of 4.91%, similar to levels of today’s beer.
Brewers got away with these tactics by labeling their beers as “pure” or “nourishing” or a “tonic.” By doing so, the product was considered medicinal.
Medicinal wines, whiskeys and beers were sold over the counter in drug stores. For serious alcohol consumption, the drugstore was the place to go; and since no prescription was necessary, virtually anyone could walk out of a drug store carrying a bottle of alcohol labeled as medicine.
This product contained a whopping 11% alcohol. Ad from the Medical Women’s Journal, September 1921.
Even a product as intoxicating as Vin Mariani was available for purchase without a prescription. Vin Mariani was incredibly popular because of the potent effects of its formula: 6 milligrams of cocaine for each ounce of Bordeaux wine. Like other “medicinal” wines, it was advertised in medical journals and was widely prescribed to children.
Ad in The Cincinnati Eclectic Medical Journal, April 1903
Could it be that Isabella Alden was right to be alarmed? Did mothers unwittingly create “a thirst for alcohol” in their children at a young age, or even before they were born? Perhaps, as Isabella wrote, the blessed ignorance of motherhood prevented them from knowing what kind of damage they may or may not have done to their beloved children simply by following doctors’ orders.
You can click on any of the images in this post to see a larger version.
It was just an average town picnic on an average October afternoon. Hundreds of people attended the gathering; but for one small group of picnic-goers who sat together to eat pickles and chicken and cream, life would never be the same again. For in the midst of that average picnic, God went to work in their hearts and set in motion a series of extraordinary events. Before long the small group of picnickers banded together to do the Lord’s work, and to shape the destinies of each other’s souls.
This edition of the 1886 classic Christian novel includes a biography of the author and additional bonus material.
“Diligent in business, serving the Lord.” There is no period dividing these. I long ago discovered that I could make a bed and sweep a room for His sake, as surely as I could speak a word for Him.
—A New Graft on the Family Tree
Agatha Hunter is a determined young lady. She’s willing to brave the dangers of the big city in order to realize her dream of attending a church missionary meeting. Imagine meeting other women with the same blessed zeal, the same divine calling to further Christ’s work in foreign lands! Why, a big, splendid church in town must have hundreds of women working together for the Lord’s cause, and Agatha is certain she will find kindred sprits there.
But Agatha’s resolve is soon put to the test as the missionary meeting falls far short of her expectations; and instead of being kindred spirits, the ladies of the missionary society would rather talk about housekeeping than evangelism. Can Agatha plant a seed for Christ in the hearts of these city people?
Click on the book cover to begin reading Isabella Alden’s 1898 short story, Agatha’s Unknown Way right now!
You can find more free reads by Isabella Alden by clicking on the Free Reads tab above.
In the middle of the 19th Century a new craze began to take hold on American college campuses. The new fad was a revolutionary form of physical exercise called gymnastics.
A Chautauqua exercise class in Physical Education, 1913
German in origin, gymnastics spread in popularity and were ultimately integrated into college sports programs. By the end of the century, gymnastics training—as well as the concept of regular exercise for overall health and well-being—made the leap into public consciousness and became a popular concept in the lives of everyday Americans.
The founders of Chautauqua Institution saw the rise of public interest in physical education and knew the concept had a place at Chautauqua. Bishop John Vincent strongly believed that a healthy body was essential to a healthy mind and soul.
Chautauqua had always offered plenty of exercise for visitors who wanted to be active. There were athletic clubs for men, women and children. Classes were offered in hiking and riding bikes; wrestling and fencing; swimming, diving, hurdle-jumping and golf.
Bathing at Chautauqua, 1908
Even their courses on gardening and horticulture emphasized the mental and physical benefits of growing orchard and garden crops.
Beginning riders in the Bicycle School, ca. 1896A leisurely game of shuffleboard at the Chautauqua Sports Club, ca. 1920s
With the nation’s growing interest in fitness and outdoor sports came an increased demand for trained teachers of athletics. Chautauqua Institution answered the call by establishing the Chautauqua School of Physical Education. The school focused on preparing teachers for placement at schools, universities, Young Men’s Christian Associations, and athletic clubs; and they were the first to give certificates to teachers in physical education.
Students at the Chautauqua Gymnasium, 1896
As usual, Chautauqua Institution offered the best instruction that could be furnished in several lines of athletics.
And, as always, Chautauqua assembled the country’s premier instructors for each area of specialty. Here, for instance, is a roster of the faculty during the summer of 1903:
Between 1886 (when the school was founded) and 1904 the school trained an estimated 1,200 to 1,500 physical education teachers from across the United States. In addition to the Normal Course, the school offered classes “suited to the needs of men, women, misses, boys and children.”
Chautauqua Class in Physical Culture, 1896
In other words, summer visitors to Chautauqua had ample opportunity to learn track and field, gymnastics, and virtually every other athletic technique from the country’s best instructors, assembled in one place.
A unique aspect of the physical education training offered at Chautauqua was the melding of three different physical education systems.
The German gymnastics system was based on strenuous exercise performed on equipment such as pommel horses, parallel bars, climbing walls and rope mechanisms.
The Swedish gymnastics system focused on calisthenics, stretching and breathing.
And the Delsartean system integrated lighted physical exercise with artistic movement and relaxation techniques. The system was named for Francois Delsarte, who devoted his life to studying the laws of human motion, gesture and expression.
Together these three systems formed the school of physical culture. As students learned to master the different techniques, they often exhibited their skills in the Chautauqua Amphitheater.
A Gymnastics Class exhibits in the Amphitheatre, about 1895Click on this image to read a 1901 article from the Chautauqua Herald about a Physical Education Class exhibition
The Physical Culture exhibitions were extremely popular as a form of entertainment for summer Chautauquans. At the time, most people had never before seen athletes displaying skills with light devices such as dumb-bells, rings, poles, and Indian Clubs. As a source of entertainment, these displays were something of a phenomenon.
But athletes didn’t demonstrate strength and skill alone. The Delsartean system stressed beauty of movement. Under Delsartean teaching it wasn’t enough for students to simply lift a dumb-bell in front of an audience; they learned to lift dumb-bells in prescribed forms that created pleasing compositions, all accompanied to appropriate music.
Physical Culture Class using dumb-bells, 1890A Physical Culture Class using rings, 1890A Physical Culture Class using gymnastic poles, 1890Physical Culture Class using Indian Clubs, 1890
Perhaps the most popular portion of the program was the display of mastery of Indian Clubs. Indian Clubs looked something like modern-day bowling pins. They were often hollow with removable tops so sand or other substances could be inserted to give them weight. By swinging the clubs according to Delsartean rhythms and movements, men, women and children got an effective upper body workout.
Isabella Alden wrote about a public performance of Indian Clubs in her short story “Agatha’s Unknown Way.” She described the exhibition as “fancy club-swinging.”
Demonstrations like the one Isabella described were extremely popular and drew large audiences, which is exactly what happened in “Agatha’s Unknown Way.”
In the story, the solo performer was a woman, which would have been very unusual at the time, and she certainly would have drawn a crowd. She also probably stimulated audience members to try exercising with Indian Clubs themselves.
It would have been easy enough to learn how. By the turn of the century over 20 different best-selling books had been published on Delsartean techniques. People bought the instruction books and used them to practice the system of movement and exercise in the privacy of their own homes.
Other exercise-at-home books sold well, too, such as this Ladies’ Home Calisthenics book published in 1890.
In this book, push-ups, weight lifting, and club swinging exercises were modified for women in consideration of the restrictions on their movements caused by their corsets.
Hand Exercise from Ladies’ Home Calisthenics, 1890How to do push-ups, from Ladies’ Home Calisthenics, 1890
Women were expected to wear their corsets at all times, even while exercising; but at least one corset manufacturer, spotting the new exercise trend, advertised that women wearing their corset could “perform in comfort any exercise of physical culture.”
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The physical culture movement wasn’t just about lifting weights and swinging clubs. The Delsartean system had at its core a principle of movement based on art, relaxation, balance and the natural flow of breath. Over time, the Delsartean system expanded to address areas of “self-expression.” For example, some public speaking classes at Chautauqua adopted the breathing and relaxation techniques designed by Delsarte, as did courses on deportment and “self-expression.”
Announcement of a new class at Chautauqua
In Four Mothers at Chautauqua Isabella Alden wrote about a Chautauqua class on relaxation that was founded on Delsarte’s principles. Grumpy Mrs. Bradford learned about the relaxation techniques after her daughter Isabel showed her a brochure about the class.
“‘Exercise that rests.’ I wonder what kind it can be? I’m sure I have exercise enough, but I must say I don’t feel especially rested. Why in the world do you want me to go and look on at those idiots twisting their bodies into all sorts of shapes? Look at this one trying to reach her toes without tipping over! I must say I have no patience with women who make fools of themselves taking such exercises. It is bad enough for silly girls to waste their time and money in that way.”
However, she had turned from her doorway and was allowing the eager Isabel to pilot her down the avenue toward the “School of Expression.” She continued to read, as she walked, and to make comments. “‘It is not the work we do, but the energy we waste when not working that exhausts us.’ Humph, much she knows about it! I never waste any energy.”
Yet perhaps there was never a woman who wasted more than did Mrs. Bradford. The trouble with her, as with many another, was that she did not know herself.
She read on: “‘Learn to relax, to let go—physically and mentally—to untie the fuss and worry knots.’ Yes, I wonder how? It’s easy enough to talk!” But the tone was less scornful; there was even a touch of wistfulness in it.
Isabel caught at the wistful tone and answered it.
“You wait, Mother, she will tell you how. She says she has been doing it a good many years, and has rested more tired women than she can count.”
And it was a fact that as soon as the teacher began to talk, to explain, to answer with ready comprehension and sympathy the volley of questions poured at her, to move that supple body of hers that seemed to have no more weight in it than a cork, and did her instant bidding with an unfailing ease and grace, Mrs. Bradford discovered what every member of the large class had done: that here was one body that was a willing servant, instead of a tyrant demanding from the jaded spirit impossibilities.
“You want to learn how to get a good healthy ‘tired,’ that will make rest a joy, and work that follows it a pleasure;” she said brightly, as if that was a very ordinary lesson easily mastered.
Mrs. Bradford, from listening with an air of endurance as one who had been smuggled in against her will, grew interested, grew absorbed in the genial flow of talk that was not a lecture nor a lesson, and yet was distinctly both. When she came to herself, and found herself standing with the others trying to reach her toes without tipping over—the precise effort that she had so sharply criticized—she did not know whether to be ashamed, and indignant at somebody, or to laugh. But fun got the upper hand, and she joined in the hearty laugh that was going the rounds at the expense of them all. After that, she forgot that it was a class, and a lesson, and that she was a middle-aged woman with dignity to sustain. For a full half hour she did that excellent thing for such women as she: forgot Mrs. Bradford entirely.
Mrs. Bradford laughed outright, a merry laugh such as she had not in years relaxed sufficiently to give. The comic side of this strange morning was getting possession of her.
Next stop of our tour of Chautauqua: The Teacher’s Retreat
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Click here to read more about Four Mothers at Chautauqua.
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You can read “Agatha’s Unknown Way” forfree! Click on the book cover to read Isabella Alden’s short story now.
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You can learn more about the Delsartean system of Physical Culture by following these links:
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