Marcia Livingston, Isabella’s sister, was a widely published author whose work appeared in magazines and newspapers across the country. While she often wrote stories for young children, her stories about the trials and joys of marriage are true to life, charming, and inspiring.
Marcia’s story “Deacon Bates’ Wife” is about appreciating the ones we love, recognizing their burdens, and taking the time to look at them with fresh eyes.
When “Deacon Bates’ Wife” was published in newspapers in 1892 it was very well received. One New York newspaper editor added this thoughtful introduction:
“The following story … conveys an admirable lesson. We commend it to the considerate attention of all “good men” who have “over-worked wives.”
Deacon Daniel Bates takes great pride in his thrifty, hard-working wife, Cynthy, unaware that decades of unceasing labor have taken a toll on her spirit. It takes a keen-eyed summer guest and a dose of plain speaking to open the deacon’s eyes before it’s too late.
If you’ve spent any time getting to know the characters in Isabella Alden’s novels, you’ve probably met them multiple times: the widow who takes in lodgers to keep her family afloat, the young store clerk boarding far from home for the first time, the landlady presiding over a dinner table crowded with as many opinions as boarders. Boarding houses show up so often in her stories that it’s easy to read right past them — but for Isabella’s original readers, they needed no explanation. For us, more than a century later, a bit of an explanation is in order.
Newsapaper ad for a private boarding house in Florida, 1878.
A boarding house was, at its simplest, a private home where the owner rented out rooms and provided meals — typically breakfast and dinner were included in the weekly rate, with lunch offered as a lighter, extra meal since working boarders were away at midday. This is an important distinction: a boarding house was not the same thing as a rooming house, where a lodger rented a room but ate meals elsewhere, usually at a restaurant. Boarders lived and ate under one roof; roomers just slept there. Isabella’s characters moved between both kinds of arrangements, and knowing the difference helps explain a lot about their daily routines (and their complaints).
A small private home open to boarders. The sign near the seated woman reads “Rooms by day or week.”
A well-run boarding house was expected to offer more than just a bed. According to the standards of the day, a boarder could expect a clean, whole set of bedding, a washstand with a large pitcher for washing up, fresh drinking water left by the bed at night, and a well-supplied bathroom down the hall. Whether a house actually delivered on these basics — or fell woefully short of them — could make the difference between a boarder’s contentment and outright misery. We meet both kinds of houses in Isabella’s novels.
A boarder’s room at a boarding house in Uniontown, Pennsylvania (courtesy Uniontown Public Library).
In Isabella Alden’s lifetime, a woman who needed to support herself — or her family — had only a handful of respectable options. She could teach school. She could sew. She could clerk in a store. Or she could keep a boarding house.
That last option had a particular appeal for women who already owned a home, especially widows left with a house too large for their remaining family and no other income. It required little starting capital. You didn’t need to buy a building or stock a shop; you just opened the doors of the house you already had. And on paper, it looked deceptively simple: cook a bit more food, make up a few extra beds, and collect the weekly rent.
The dining room at Mrs. Heath’s boarding house, Duluth, Minnesota, 1893.
In practice, as Isabella’s own characters discover, it was one of the hardest ways a woman could make a living. Keeping boarders happy, fed, and paying required real business sense — knowing what to charge, what “extras” to allow, how to set rules boarders would actually obey and respect — and it demanded relentless physical labor that often fell hardest on daughters and servants rather than the woman whose name was on the sign. That was certainly the case in the Ried household in Isabella’s novel, Ester Ried.
Ad for a large well-staffed boarding house in the Toronto Daily Star, 1904.
Isabella Alden probably had some personal experience as a boarder. As the wife of a minister who moved frequently from one calling to the next, she likely spent time in boarding houses and rented rooms herself, sizing up landladies and dining rooms much the way her characters do. That experience may be exactly why her boarding house scenes feel so specific and true.
Isabella’s fellow boarders had their own reasons for renting rooms. They were people who needed lodging but didn’t have or want a household of their own — young unmarried clerks and salesmen, professionals new to a city, widows and widowers, traveling businessmen with schedules that didn’t match a family’s routine, and increasingly, by the turn of the century, single working women living independently of their families for the first time.
Some residents of the Taylor Boarding House in Denton, Texas, 1904.
That mix of backgrounds, ages, and personalities all sharing one dining table is exactly what made boarding houses such fertile ground for Isabella’s imagination. For her, a boarding house dining room could be the setting for a marriage proposal, a theological argument, a landlady’s quiet influence on a wayward young man, or a boarder-turned-lifelong-friend, all in the course of an ordinary week. Isabella used her boarding houses not just as scenery, but as places where her characters’ true selves came out and sometimes, their spiritual journeys were corrected.
Join us again on October 20 when we’ll begin looking at the boarding houses in Isabella’s novels, starting with a weary young heroine named Ester Ried and the exhausting responsibilities she carries as she tries to keep her family afloat.
Long before modern crossword puzzles appeared in 1913, Victorians enjoyed word games to pass the time. One of the most popular forms was the acrostic—a puzzle where the first letter of each line spells out a word, name, or hidden message when read vertically down the page.
A classic acrostic poem looks like this:
Stars up in the sky They sparkle with love All so glorious Radiant above
Reading the first letters top-to-bottom reveals the secret word: STAR.
In The Pansy magazine, Isabella Alden encouraged her young readers to build acrostics, but with a spiritual twist — she asked them to spell out their names using lines from their favorite Bible verses.
Children responded with enthusiasm, sending in hundreds of scripture acrostics over the years, many of which Isabella published.
Here is one example sent in by a young reader who drew her verses from the Coverdale translation of the Bible. Can you read the first letter of each line to figure out her name?
Keep innocency, and take heed unto the thing that is right. And call upon me in time of trouble, so will I hear thee. Teach me, O Lord, the way of thy statutes. Early in the morning do I cry unto thee.
Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips that they speak no guile.
Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth. Order my steps in thy word, and so shall no wickedness have dominion over me. Delight thou in the Lord, and he shall give thee thy heart’s desire. Make me to understand the way of thy commandments. A small thing the righteous hath is better than great riches of the ungodly. Now are ye light in the Lord, walk as children of light.
Did you figure it out? The writer was Kate K. Rodman!
Another reader, Fanny C. Tingue, submitted a verse acrostic with a surprise. Instead of spelling her own name, she used scripture to spell out the name of her favorite author:
My sheep hear my voice. Righteous lips are the delight of kings. So that we may boldly say, the Lord is my helper.
Great is the Lord and greatly to be praised. Remove from me reproach and contempt.
And many believed on Him. Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me. Divers weights are an abomination unto the Lord. Every man shall kiss his lips that giveth a right answer. Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you.
Fanny’s acrostic spells out MRS. G. R. ALDEN—Isabella’s married name—a thoughtful tribute that must have delighted Isabella.
Encouraging children to craft scripture acrostics was a wonderfully creative way to help them search the Scriptures, practice reading, and memorize verses that touched their hearts.
Why not try following Isabella’s challenge yourself? Choose your name, open your Bible, and see if you can create an acrostic using your favorite verses!
In an 1891 issue of The Pansy magazine, Isabella Alden shared a thoughtful passage by the famous preacher Charles Spurgeon.
Because her magazine was written for young readers and families, Isabella frequently featured quotes and insights from spiritual leaders that illuminated simple truths. Spurgeon’s words draw a beautiful parallel between astronomy and the heart, reminding her readers—and all of us—how personal communion with Christ naturally deepens our devotion.
You can find more words of wisdom like the one above, which you can print and share. Just enter “quotables” in the search box on the right to see more.
In the early 1910s, Americans were experiencing a world in turmoil. With major events like the start of World War I and the sinking of the Titanic, many people found themselves looking for reassurance, order, and a sense of control over their futures. One surprising place they turned to—The stars.
During this time, a massive craze for astrology, palmistry, and fortune-telling swept the country. Newspapers filled their classified pages with advertisements from self-proclaimed astrologers, clairvoyants, and palm readers promising to map out business prospects, cure health troubles, and—most popular of all—arrange perfect marriages.
from the Telegram and Gazette (Worcester, Massachusetts) September 6, 1914.
Raymond Macdonald Alden—Isabella’s son—recognized the growing trend. Raymond was an acclaimed scholar and author in his own right. He held a doctorate, served as chair of the English department at Stanford University, and was a noted expert on Shakespeare and classic literature who frequently delivered popular lectures.
from the Richmond Times Dispatch, May 1, 1919.
Raymond was also an award-winning short story writer. He watched the growing obsession with astrology and palmistry with a sharp, humorous eye. In 1914, he confronted the trend the best way he knew how: through a light-hearted romantic story that poked fun at the craze. His story playfully shows how common sense, honesty, and real human connections make a far more reliable foundation for love than any horoscope ever could.
When a skeptical young man stumbles into a Los Angeles “Bureau of Destiny” to cure his heartache, he has little hope for a happy future. But as the bureau’s clever secretary takes his romantic fate into her own hands, he soon learns that destiny works in mysterious and delightfully unexpected ways.
As a minister’s wife for over four decades, Isabella Alden knew firsthand what D.L. Moody describes in this month’s Bible class: how quickly a congregation’s criticism can wear down a pastor’s spirit, and how “the Holy Spirit will not work in an atmosphere of criticism.”
In Lesson 11, Mr. Moody introduces us to both the Person and work of the Holy Spirit — His conviction of sin, His gift of hope, His call to love the unlovely, and His power to bring true liberty to a captive soul.
This is a lesson for anyone who wants to better understand the Holy Spirit’s work in daily life.
One hundred years ago, J. B. Lippincott Company published two new novels by Isabella’s niece, Grace Livingston Hill: A New Name (her 43rd novel) and Coming Through the Rye (her 44th novel).
The Philadelphia Inquirer, March 27, 1926
The mid-1920s were an interesting time for an author like Grace. While literary critics enthusiastically praised modernist writers like Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald, everyday readers continued to turn to Grace for something entirely different: comfort, clear moral lessons, and stories that reminded them that life could have a noble purpose.
Evening Express, Portland, Maine, September 28, 1926
Community reading groups like the Riverside Reading Circle in Bridgeport, Connecticut, frequently placed her latest releases right at the top of their schedules:
The Bridgeport Telegram, May 24, 1926.
That enthusiasm wasn’t limited to the 1920s. Decades later, readers were still discovering her work for the first time—and realizing their mothers and grandmothers had loved her, too. In April 2000, a newspaper in Kentucky published an article by a feature writer named Nancy Taylor, who wrote:
I discovered a small volume, Coming Through the Rye, and enjoyed it so much, I mentioned it to my mother as if I were telling her something she didn’t know.
“Grace Livingston Hill!” she said. “I’ve read so many of her books I don’t know where to begin. Matched Pearls is one of my favorite stories ever.”
Chicago Tribune, September 25, 1926.
Ms. Taylor went on to write:
My great-grandmother read them, my grandmother read them, my mother read them, I’ve read them, and my daughter reads them.
St Louis Globe-Democrat October 16, 1926
The old adage, “the more things change, the more they stay the same” is still true. Grace’s novels continue to hold the same place in readers’ hearts today as they did in 1926, and every year since. Perhaps Ms. Taylor said it best in the closing lines of her article published twenty-six years ago:
Where there is discouragement in the world, Grace sowed encouragement. Where there is yearning, Grace sowed hope, and she did it across generations. It is such a comfort to know that words which so long ago inspired our great-grandmothers are today an inspiration for our daughters. Grace Livingston Hill is the author of that gift.
LEAVE A COMMENT AND TELL US:
DO YOU SHARE GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL’S BOOKS WITH OTHERS?
DID YOU BECOME A FAN BECAUSE SOMEONE SHARED THEM WITH YOU?
In 1918, Isabella’s husband, Reverend G. R. Alden was a healthy, hardy 86-year-old. Though retired from his ministerial duties in the Methodist church, he remained incredibly active. The Aldens were living in Palo Alto, California at the time, and because the Reverend didn’t drive, his bicycle was his primary mode of transportation. Seeing him pedaling his bike around town was a familiar and endearing sight in the neighborhood.
A roadster bicycle from about 1915, described in advertisements as “admirably suitable for the young and middle-aged.”
Rev. Alden was also a well-known dog lover. Years earlier, he had written two children’s novels centered around a canine protagonist named Major: Major’s Autobiography and Major’s Friends, were both serialized in the pages of The Pansy magazine in 1892.
An illustration from the 1892 serial story, “Major’s Friends.”
He was very open about his affection for four-legged friends. In the opening lines of Major’s Friends he declared to his young readers:
“By this time you will begin to believe that I am fond of dogs. Well, I am, if they are good, and I am especially fond of large, intelligent dogs.”
With such a deep affection for man’s-best-friend, it must have come as quite a shock to the Alden family—and the community—when the local papers ran a startling headline in July 1918.
According to the July 17, 1918 issue of the Peninsula Times Tribune, Rev. Alden was riding his bicycle near his home one evening when he was suddenly “assaulted” by a vicious bull terrier. The dog bit him, leaving a painful injury on his left leg just above the ankle. The next morning, Rev. Alden reported the attack to the police, requesting that immediate action be taken to muzzle or properly handle the dangerous dog.
Because Isabella and the Reverend were such prominent figures in the region, the story quickly spread beyond Palo Alto to nearby San Jose. The Aldens were frequent visitors to the Mount Hermon Christian Camp in Santa Cruz, where they owned a cottage, so two days later, the Santa Cruz newspaper also picked up the story and added a few additional details for its readers.
The article made sure to note that Mrs. Alden was the famous author of the beloved “Pansy” books, and proudly mentioned that their son, R. M. Alden, was currently serving as a professor at nearby Stanford University.
Thankfully, an injury above the ankle couldn’t keep a robust 86-year-old retired minister down for long, and Rev. Alden was soon back on his bicycle, pedaling around Palo Alto. It’s fascinating to see how a minor local mishap can reveal so much about the Aldens’ daily lives, their tight-knit family, and their enduring fame in California.
Did you know Reverend Alden wrote children’s stories about dogs? Have you ever read about Major’s adventures? Leave a comment below and share your thoughts!
Isabella Alden was a teacher at heart. She learned at an early age that the best and most lasting lessons are often taught through real-life examples (read more about that here). It was a philosophy she shared frequently with other parents—whether she was speaking to mothers at church, during her summers spent at Chautauqua, or while traveling on her lecture circuit.
Isabella loved discussing the unique challenges of raising children with Biblical truths as their guide. In a 1901 article in American Mother magazine, she shared a bit of advice she had learned from a mother who found a brilliant way to do just that:
Teaching Self-Reverence.
I knew one mother who, before her son could speak the words plainly, taught him the Bible verse, “I will give thanks unto thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”
Then, every evening, during their half-hour of confidential talk, she gave him, in minute detail, some proof of the truth of this verse. He was interested in “chu-chu cars,” and had been allowed to stop and examine the great engines, and to ask numberless questions about them.
That evening, his mother told him of the engine in his body that worked day and night at its appointed task. He had a chance, one evening, to look through a small telescope and saw wonders; and was led to think of the two perfect telescopes that he carried about with him daily.
For days, for weeks, for months the marvels went on, given in serial chapters; the revelation of one small human being to his human self. Every night he repeated, with increasing reverence, the words, “I will give thanks unto thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”
Can you imagine Isabella nodding and smiling as she listened to this mother’s clever idea? Long before modern science had mapped out the intricate inner workings of the human body, this mother used a child’s natural curiosity over trains and telescopes to inspire a deep, foundational reverence for how God made him. It’s a reminder for us today that Isabella’s philosophy was right, and that the greatest truths can often be taught in the quietest moments of a daily routine.
Do you have a favorite way you’ve seen scripture or deep Biblical truths made simple for children?
Our July free read is a short story by an author who may be new to you. Margaret Marshall Saunders was a Canadian writer of children’s stories and a passionate advocate for animal welfare. She was thirty-two years old and just starting her writing career in earnest when her novel Beautiful Joe was published in 1893 under her pen name “Marshall Saunders.” The book quickly became a worldwide bestseller and made history as the first book by a Canadian author to sell over a million copies.
Margaret Saunders was a talented writer, and when she submitted her short story “It Might Have Been” to Isabella Alden for publication in The Pansy magazine, the story must have touched Isabella’s heart.
Margaret Marshall Saunders with her dog, Billie Sunday.
Like the character of Ella Crouse in the story, Isabella had a temper! Throughout her life Isabella candidly shared times when her quick flare-ups and uncontrolled anger often got the best of her, leading to situations she later regretted. It’s easy to see how she identified with Margaret Saunders’ beautifully written story. She undoubtedly knew that this tale of regret and sisterly love would resonate deeply with her readers.
Published in the June 1895 issue of The Pansy, “It Might Have Been” by Margaret Marshall Saunders is a lovely short story that reminds us that building character is a slow process—earned through daily patience, forgiveness, and love.
Ella and her sister, Jessie, are opposites in every way. While Jessie is calm and fragile, Ella possesses a fierce, volatile temper that she struggles to master. One chaotic morning, a minor misunderstanding over a pair of gloves escalates into a passionate argument that Ella regrets. But when an unexpected crisis strikes the family later that day, Ella is forced to confront the terrifying reality of what might have been if she never got the chance to say “I’m sorry.”
Reviews and giveaways for Christian fiction and sweet, clean fiction. Bringing readers information on great stories and connecting authors with their readers.
