Tuesday, February 28, 2012

A GRANT COUNTY CIRCUS



by Dennis A. Wilson, February 28, 2012

The circus has a long history in America, and Wisconsin was a great place to start.  Thirty-eight circuses started right here in Wisconsin.   The first of those was the Mabie Bros. “Grand Olympic Arena and U. S. Circus”, which moved from Brewster New York to Delavan, Wisconsin in 1847.  One member of that circus was in fact Frederick William Randall Chadwick, billed as the “Randall the Scotch Giant”.  He stood 7 feet 31/2 inches and weighed 450 pounds.  An immensely strong man, he and his wife Jane (who was the same height as Randall), moved to The Belmont area and are buried in the Belmont cemetery.



     Only one circus is known to have started in Grant County.  It happened in the unlikeliest of places, the quiet little village of Jamestown.  In 1863, the Civil War was at its zenith.  The war had not been easy on many circuses.  Some performers volunteered as soldiers.  Some northern circuses found themselves trapped in the south when war broke out.  Mistrusted (most circus performers were northerners), forbidden to perform, with boats and livestock confiscated for the Southern war effort, they had to make it home in whatever manner possible.  Some of the greatest circus performers at the time came from Wisconsin.   One of the best known performers was Dan Castello of Racine.   He was known for his skills as a clown, acrobat, and horse rider.  He was the master of many skills.   Today he is remembered as the first Ringmaster of what became the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey circus. 

    In 1863 a wealthy and ambitious local farmer and lead mine owner, Matthew Van Vleck, who had also served as Fairplay’s postmaster decided to put together a troop of circus veterans and start a circus himself.   This involved great expense, so he must have been a man of considerable wealth.  It was a great coup signing Castello on as a partner.   The circus would be known as the “Castello and Van Vleck Mammoth Show.”  The Dubuque Democratic Herald of May 20, 1863 related some of the cost in a story about the new circus:  “L. D. Randall & Co. have lately finished making four set of double harness for Costello & Van Vleck’s Circus Band.  The Harness exceed in workmanship any we have yet seen.  They are plated with heavy silver, ornaments and finished in the best manner.”  It further related the following:  The horses are very fine and well trained.  The performers were selected from among the very best in the country, so that this is a star company.  The pavilion is new and the seats are elegantly carpeted and scrupulously clean.”

     Circuses were not a new fad in 1863.  Lancaster had seen its first circus in 1848, and the Mabie brothers Circus had visited Platteville on Saturday, June 20th 1847, featuring Randall the Scotch Giant performing “his gigantic act on two matched Hanoverian cream studs.”  To some of the performers it was a way to travel, gain notoriety and hopefully wealth.   The promise of the circus often did not work out.  Many circuses failed.   Performers were often poorly paid.  The cost of traveling with performers and the required menagerie of exotic animals, horses, wagons, and tents required a considerable outlay of money.  The Costello and Van Vleck Mammoth Show put on its first performance on May 2, 1863 at Fairplay, only a few miles from Van Vleck’s hometown.





    The story of the Castello and Van Vleck Circus is told in the book “Ins and Outs of Circus Life, or, Forty-Two Years Travel of John H. Glenroy, Bareback Rider, Through United States, Canada, South America and Cuba” narrated by John H. Glenroy and compiled by Stephen Stanley Stanford in 1885.  Glenroy joined the Castello and Van Vleck circus in 1863.  He was famous in the circus world for being the first person ever to turn a backward somersault on the bareback of a horse before an audience.  This was in 1846 when he was 18 years old and performing for the Welch and Mann's Circus at Chepatchet, R. I.  He wrote of Castello and Van Vleck’s Mammoth Show years later:

     “In March of 1863, my engagement with Thayer and Noyes expiring, I went on to New York and finding nothing there, I went to Philadelphia where John O'Brien engaged me and another rider named Charles Read to break horses for him. Our engagement with O'Brien was for one month and at the expiration of that I received a letter from Castello and Van Vleck offering me an engagement with them to open at Fairplay, Wisconsin. After considerable correspondence between us on the question of salary, it having been finally settled to the satisfaction of all parties, I left Philadelphia and travelled to Fairplay by way of New York, Girard and Chicago. On my arrival therein the latter part of April 1863, I found the following people already engaged, and the circus ready to start out under the name of "Castello and Van Vleck's Mammoth Circus."

     “Dan Castello, clown. Frances Castello, rider. Joseph Tinkham, hurdle rider. George M. Kelly and Charles Burroughs, acrobats. Thomas Poland, ringmaster. William Smith, two horse rider. Thomas Burgess, clown. Natt McCollom, banjoist and negro minstrel. Richard Hammon, acrobat. John Burns, acrobat.

     “During this season I rode (besides my somersault act) a two horse act with Smith in the ring.

     “The manager of our circus I discovered to be an old friend of mine, he having been with me as groom when I went to South America in 1845. His name was Richard Van Volkenburg and he now keeps a hotel in Oswego, where he is greatly respected. He always was and still is highly thought of by the members of the circus profession.

     “On the first of May we gave a dress rehearsal and one week later we commenced our summer tour by opening in Dubuque, Iowa; and then continuing by showing in the places in Iowa: Hazel Green and Mineral Point, Wisconsin; then crossing into Illinois, we showed in Freeport, Peketonika, Rockford, Belvidere, Elgin, and Chicago. From there to Wisconsin showing in: Kenosha, Waukegan, Racine, Milwaukee, Waukeshaw, (at this place, while we were showing there the remains of Colonel Sidney Bean, who had been killed in the war, arrived, (and Castello, belonging to the Masonic order, of which Bean had also been a member) he sent the band down and they escorted the remains to the home of Bean's relatives, playing funeral airs along the march; then to Eagle, Stoughton, Madison, Janesville, Portage, Ripon, Waupon, Fond du Lac, Oshkosh, La Crosse, Watertown and Tremplo.

     “Then crossing to Minnesota we opened at Winona, and continuing our tour we passed through and showed in Minneiska, Wabasha, Lake City, Red Wing, Hastings, Hudson, Prescott, Stillwater, St. Paul, St. Anthony, Minneapolis, Shakopee, Northfield, Faribault, Owatonna, Waseca, Rochester and Chatfield. Then driving thirty miles we began our tour of Iowa the second time by opening in Waukon, then McGregor, Arcadian, Waterloo, Independence, Iowa City, Tipton, Monticello, Davenport, Muscatine, Wapello, Washington, Eddyville, Oskaloosa, Ottumwa, Keosauqua and Keokuk. From Keokuk we crossed to Warsau, then to Quincy, Carthage and Alton, all in the state, of Illinois. From Alton we drove into St. Louis where Van Vleck going into partnership with McGinley and De Haven, Castello and I left as I did not wish to travel in any company that De Haven was interested in. ( George W. De Haven is referred to by Stuart Thayer as “that undertaker of wobbly concerns) I received from Van Vleck all that was due to me and although he offered me an increase of fifteen dollars a week to stay with them, I would not stay and that closed for me and for Castello and Van Vleck one of the most successful tours that I or they had ever had.”

In the book “Olympians of the Sawdust Circle - A Biographical Dictionary of the Nineteenth Century American Circus” by William L. Slout, the  following short biography of Matthew Van Vleck is given:

“VAN VLECK, MATTHEW. (1820-June 20, 1873) General manager, Castello & Van Vleck, 1863, which had been traveling by boat along the Ohio River; the show changed hands in St. Louis, Missouri, with the new owners being Van Vleck, Ben Maginley and George W. DeHaven, the latter assuming the management. Their first engagement was for a week in St. Louis beginning October 6. Died in Cuba, NY.” 

     It is not known when Van Vleck left Grant County.  Perhaps when he combined with McGinley and DeHaven he sold his holdings in Wisconsin and never returned.  That seems doubtful, though because the 1860 census shows his Jamestown household consisting of 14 individuals not including him.  If anyone knows more than this I would like to have that information.

You can read more about Wisconsin’s circuses in the book “THE BIGGEST, THE SMALLEST, THE LONGEST, THE SHORTEST – A Chronicle of the American Circus from its Heartland” by Dean Jensen

Friday, February 17, 2012

THE MONUMENT THAT NEVER WAS


     They were found dead on the battlefield, both together with their knapsacks under their heads as if they had laid down to rest after a long day of toil.  Yesterdays great 12 hour battle was over.  Sounds – footsteps, horses, rolling wagons, coughs made it seem that the events of the past day were some violent, but distant nightmare.  The dead were all about, thousands of them.  Unfortunately this battle had been all too real. It was the Battle of Antietam.  Private Robert S. Stevenson (shown as “Stephenson” in the Roster of Volunteers), and Corporal George W. Halloway were dead; two men from tiny Beetown who had answered the call of their country as members of Company C, 2nd Wisconsin Infantry. 



    Brave, even in the company of the wars most stalwart soldiers, Stevenson determined to do his duty, seemingly without consideration of his life.   His first act of bravery occurred during the rout of Union forces at First Bull Run, as recounted in The History of Grant County: 

"George L. Hydewas wounded in the mouth by a ball which passed through the neck. Lieut. Dean and Orderly Gibson assisted him to a place of comparative safety. James Gow, Color Sergeant of the company, hearing of his friend's condition, and being an exceptionally powerful man, went to his assistance, leaving the colors in care of George Stephenson, a member of Company C, from Beetown, who found it difficult to keep up with the rest and retain the flag. He was charged by some cavalry, but managed to put a fence between him and them. Seeing his danger and the impending disgrace from the loss of the colors, Richard Carter, one of the musicians, and his brother, George B. Carter, threw away their instruments, secured a rifle each and a few cartridges, and "rallied 'round the flag." After four or five attempts to increase their number in the presence of the enemy, a dozen or more of their comrades came to their assistance, and together they beat the cavalry back and secured their flag."

     The Battle of Antietam on September 17, 1862 was the worst one day fight of the entire Civil War, with some 23,000 men killed, wounded or missing. The 2nd Wisconsin Volunteer infantry, as part of the Iron Brigade had been in the thick of it, fighting and dying in a field of corn.  The men of the 2nd Wisconsin were not shielded.   They suffered the highest percentage of soldiers killed and dead of wounds of any Union Regiment in the Civil War, 19.7 percent.   Company C of the 2nd Wisconsin Regiment, the ‘Grant County Grays’ were there.  They had seen repeated battles; at Gainesville (more commonly called The Battle of Brawner’s Farm), on August 28th, which was the first day of the battle of Second Bull Run (Second Manassas), and at South Mountain on September 14th.  At Brawner’s Farm alone, the 2nd Wisconsin had lost 276 of its 430 men. At Antietam, already decimated when the battle began, with only 150 able to assemble for the fight, 91 of them were killed or injured. Robert S. Stevenson was courageous, standing out even in this, one of the hardest fighting units of the war.   At First Bull Run he had helped to save the colors as described above, but he would do much more.   

     Robert S. Stevenson was born in Missouri in 1821. By 1845 he was living in Dubuque.  On April 7, 1845 in Dubuque he married Caroline Shattuck daughter of George C. Shattuck (George is buried in Greenwood Cemetery, Platteville), and Anne Bronson, Yankees from Vermont and Connecticut, who had settled in the Waukon area in August of 1849.  He moved from Dubuque to Waukon Iowa in the spring of 1850, with his wife, and infant son Ralph.  They joined the Methodist Episcopal Church in Lansing in June of 1852.  On July 6th of that same year Caroline died.  In the ensuing years Robert Studied law and became an attorney.  In May of 1856 he married Minerva Shattuck, the younger sister of his first wife.  They had a child, Ida, born in 1858.

     By 1860, Robert and his family were living in Beetown, in Grant County, where he was engaged in mining.  On May 20, 1861, a little more than a month after word of the fall of Fort Sumter he enlisted into Company C of the 2nd Wisconsin.  When he died at Antietam on September 17th 1862, he left behind his wife, Minerva, and their children.  Minerva married Benjamin Howard in March of 1868, and returned to Waukon, Allamakee County, Iowa where she lived out her life, dying on April 23, 1912.  In her pension file the following newspaper clipping was found.  It is not known where it was published, but the author, Charles K. Dean, had been 1st Lieutenant of Stevenson’s company in the war: 

To the People of Grant Co.
The following we publish by request of the wife of the deceased, who now lives at Waukon, in this State:
Many of our late citizens now lie in humble graves in remote parts of the country, who have fallen victims to this unholy rebellion. Among the number is Robert S. Stevenson, late of Co.C, 2nd Regt. Wis. Vols., who fills and honors a soldier’s grave on the bloody field of Antietam.
Being only a private, and thus having no place in the regular color guard of his regiment, yet it was his pride to stand by and uphold the colors, in the face of every danger, regardless of personal safety, as the following record will show:
1. During the disasterous battle of Bull Run the 1st, while our forces were everywhere scattered, and in disorderly retreat, he voluntarily relieved the color Sargeant of the colors, and bore them safely out the conflict.
2. In the severe fight of Gainsville, on the 28th of August, ’62, where the Regiment, in the short space of one hour and twenty minutes lost over 250 officers and men out of the 450 engaged, and when every man of the color guard had fallen, he rushed to the post of danger, and after the enemy were driven back; bore the National colors from the field, and carried them all through the two days of fierce battle which followed that bloody day.
3. At South Mountain, Sept. 14th, though too unwell for duty, he was there to float his favorite flag in the face of the foe. And—
4. At Antietam, in the early morning of Sept. 17th, as the sound of the first gun announced the opening of that memorable conflict, he left a sick bed in the hospital at the rear, and disregarding the remonstrances of the medical officers, sought his regiment then in line of battle under fire, and saying to his Capt. As he came up—“Captain I am with you to the last,” took his post by his favorite colors, when he well knew what was apparent to all—that he was entertaining “the very jaws of death.” Brave, noble man, and worthy of a better fate; it was his “last.” Within an hour he fell pierced with five bullets!
Some idea of the hazard attending the post which our deceased comrade fought can be formed by an examination of the regimental colors of the 2d. They show in the National colors, two bullet marks in the staff, and twenty-two in the colors; and in the State, 3 in the staff and 24 in the colors; and besides these, many marks have been shredded out and worn away by the hard usage the colors have seen.

Fellow citizens, I call upon you to unite with me in paying a proper tribute of respect to the memory of Private Robert S. Stevenson. Let us erect a monument, to him which shall have engraved upon it in imperishable characters the record of his patriotic devotion to the flag of our country, and of his glorious death; to inculcate in the minds of all, both of the present and future, the virtues of him whom it will commemorate.
I beg leave to name Hon. J.H. Rountree, Esq., S.E. Lewis, Esq. and Geo. Cole, Esq, as suitable persons to act as Trustees in this matter, and would respectfully suggest the Court House Square at Lancaster, as a proper place in to locate the proposed monument. The persons named or their representatives can call upon me for $25, or twice that amount if required, as my contribution to the fund.
Respectfully submitted,
C.K. DEAN

Stevenson's death is recounted in The Military History of Wisconsin, by Edwin Bentley Quiner:  "Private Robert Stephenson, of Company C, Second Wisconsin, who carried off the regimental flag on the first Bull Run battle-field, and bore it on the 29th and 30th of August, 1862, on the same bloody field, sprang from his bed in the field hospital at Antietam when he heard the skirmishing on the morning of the 17th, and pushed on alone to find his regiment. It was under fire. He reported himself to his Captain, saying, ' Captain, I am with you to the last,' and took the colors, which he held until he was shot down with seven bullets. Corporal Holloway was mortally wounded at the same time. When discovered after the battle, their bodies were found with their heads resting on their knapsacks."

No Monument was ever constructed to remember his brave deeds.  We do not know why, but his name is engraved on the Civil War Monument that sits near the Courthouse in Lancaster, Wisconsin. 
 
     Today, more than a dozen soldiers of the 2nd Wisconsin are buried at the Antietam National Cemetery.  Among them are Private Robert S. Stevenson and Corporal George W. Halloway, two brave men of Beetown, Wisconsin.  They rest in peace, side by side, part of a field of silent sentinels who affirm to us over the span of nearly 150 years that we are one nation, indivisible, and still a beacon of freedom to the world.

Monday, February 13, 2012

SPINNING HISTORY


MARY BARBARA SCHAUFF – SPINNING HISTORY

     In 1938 members of The Grant County Historical Society made a field trip to Muscalunge, near Beetown.  They went to see one of the last practitioners of the traditional art of Wool spinning in this area practice her craft.  Mary Barbara Schauff was seventy three at that time (she died in 1942), and was still very active in making socks, sweaters, even underwear from native wool.  She used dyes that were derived from local sources.  All in all, it was of great interest to the GCHS members of that time, and I suspect it might interest some of us now, even those of us who have never seen the practice.  Let’s hope that modern artisans do not forget the fabric arts of the past.  Below you will find two articles about Mrs. Schauff, and photos of the Historical Society visit.


From an 1878 Map of Grant County 


From a Herald Independent article of 1938:

“I’ve Been Spinning Yarn for Nigh onto Thirty Years…”
       
"I've been spinning ever since my man brought home a spinning wheel that he bought at an auc­tion sale down in Beetown, nigh onto thirty years ago." And with this remark, Mrs. Mary Barbara Schauff began an interesting res­ume of events that have tran­spired during her fifty-three years of married life on the old home farm, located just over the brim of Schauff Ridge, five miles south­east of Beetown.

"So you're The Independent man?" is the way she greeted the writer. "Bring in the spinning wheel, Annie, and some wool, and show him how it works." And Annie, one of the three daughters at home, brought in the spinning wheel, and the spool holder, and the frame on which the finished skein is wound.

"Yes sir," spoke Mrs. Schauff, whose seventy-three years have dealt kindly with her memory, "My man came home one night from an auction sale held down at Beetown, and he had bought a spinning wheel that must have been pretty old then." "Bless you, no," she replied to our in­quiry," this isn't the same one. I wore out that one; bought a new one and wore that one out, and this is the third. Oh, a fellow up at LaCrosse still makes them, but land sakes, they cost $13.75 now."


Picture taken “at the Grant County Historical Society meeting at the old Muscalunge Mine - 1938”

Mrs. Schauff takes a short cut of the finished product because she has eliminated the carding of the wool.  Experienced fingers manipulate the rough wool as she treadles the wheel and from out of her hands flows connected strands of wool that is twisted into a single thread and wound onto the spool held in place on the spinning wheel. She next joins the strands from two, three or four spools, depending on what she is going to use the yarn for, and twists them into heavier yarn which is run from the spools onto the skein wheel.  When this wheel is filled    to its capacity with rough wool yarn, it is securely tied to prevent it    from tangling.  It is next washed to snow whiteness, and then dyed to suit her demands, or left the natural color.  “Yes, I've had as many as 14 skeins hanging out on the porch at one time to dry." "See this color here,” and she pointed to a square block that was one of many that made up a chair back.  It was a beautiful golden brown, of mottled effect.   "I dyed that from Walnut husks.  That makes the finest kind of dye."

Mrs. Schauff not only spins yarn for her own use but for many people   of  that community who bring rough wool to her, and she knits for many of them, too.  An attractive pair of mit­tens was brought out to show the weight of the yarn used, but the style of knitting employed by Mrs. Schauff was of more interest than the weight.  Two colors were knitted at the same time into an original color effect.  "That's easy," said Mrs. Schauff,  "you just run the two strands of dif­ferent colors over your fingers, and keep tract of the number of purls."  Just that easy, we thought. "Oh yes. I have knitted dozens of pairs of mittens and socks, and sweaters; and I have knitted underwear from home   spun wool for a Cassville man.  Some of my, knitting has gone as far as Kan­sas.  I knit lots of things for around the house, too."

"We have lived on this farm for .... well, we celebrated our golden  wedding three years ago… it has been fifty-three years we have lived here. We fed 240 people for dinner on our gold­en wedding day."
Living at home are three daughters, Annie, Adeline and Mathilda and two of the boys, Tony and Carl.

"Well, come out again said Mrs. Schauff as The Independent man made ready to depart, "and I'll try to have a supply of wool on hand. See these black socks. Well they are made from the wool of black sheep, and I think it's the best kind of wool."

Despite the chill out-doors, and the effect of such weather on bothersome rheumatism, Mrs. Schauff followed the writer out onto the porch.  "See those log buildings? Well, they was built long before I came to this place to live.  Yes, they're pretty old. The old log house stood right over there. Well, the boys will be getting home before long. They went over to Slaght's this morning to butcher. Goodbye, and come out again."

And so ended a very pleasant visit with a kind old lady, who may have spun yarn from rough wool, and knitted it into socks and mittens for the men folks be­cause of necessity thirty years ago; but today it is our guess that it is a hobby, a pastime, that she just don't care to give up.


There’s been a Heap of Spinning in the Home of Aunt Barbara Schauff
(Milwaukee?) Journal Special Correspondence (1939)
Cassville, Wis. - -Sheep shearing time didn't come any too soon this year to Mrs. Barbara Schauff’s place in Waterloo town if you ask Aunt Barbara herself.
"This house is plumb out of fleece," she said.   "What with all these sweaters and things to be finished, it'll take a heap of spinning.”
 The big dining table in the center of the room was loaded with knitted articles in various stages of completion.  Unflustered by unexpected visitors in midmorning, Aunt Barbara resumed the knitting she had laid aside when a carload of company swarmed in upon her.  She was putting the finishing touches to a man's cardigan jacket, and as she shifted the heavy garment around, a big ball of natural blond wool rolled from her lap under the table.   One of the visitors hastened to retrieve it, remarking on the four thread strength, and the evenness of the texture.
 “Yes, it's our own make,” Mrs. Schauff acknowledged.
“Mother can spin a thread that's as fine as store thread” one of the grownup daughters offered, indi­cating a little old red spinning wheel in the corner.  "And just as even too," she said.
Aunt Barbara's knitting needles clicked steadily. The faint note of the Zephyr's siren was borne in on the clear air, carrying the reminder that beyond the next ridge to the west gleaming streamlined trains carry men and women swiftly to and fro in a complicated modern world.
A World Far Away
Here, with the talk of reels and spindles, of carding and knitting and dyeing, that world seems very far away. As natural as the serene Mississippi river hills, among which she has spent the whole of her 75 years, Aunt Barbara Schauff finds nothing strange in her devotion to one of the most primitive and all but forgotten household arts. "For 40 years she has taken the fleece from the backs of her own sheep, carded, spun and fashioned it into innumerable useful articles of clothing for her own kith and kin. That strangers from "outside" should marvel at that is a source of Wonderment to her.
Ever since that fellow from the historical society happened in last summer, caught her spinning and carried her and her spinning wheel off to a big meeting at Muskellunge, more and more "outsiders" have been finding their way to this re­mote spot in the rugged western Grant county hill country.
A devious way it is, too, across the Rattlesnake River, then up, into the hills, and finally over the narrow road cut out of the side of the rocky ridge which leads to the farm. In a white house perched on the very summit of the ridge, surrounded by ancient oak and walnut trees, Aunt Barbara sits and spins.
Yearned for Wheel
"When I was a little girl," she told her visitors, "I wanted, more" than anything in the world, a spinning wheel.  My mother was too busy with a family of 15 children, to humor any one of us, so it was long after I was married and had chil­dren of my own that my wish came true. One day the mister came home from a sale in the neighborhood, bringing an old spinning wheel that he had picked up for 75cents.
"Now you can spin all you're a'mind to," he said, "if you can get the wool." '    :
"I'll get the wool," I promised him. "I'll raise it. We started our flock that year with a pet lamb one of the neighbors gave our 9 year old Josie, and we've been raising our own wool ever since. I didn't have anybody to show me, so I learned to spin myself, and a pretty mess I made of it too for a while.  Finally I got the hang of it, and now it's as easy as wash­ing your hands.”  She broke into a chuckle.  "I've brought my children up right, too, you'd better believe.  I've seen to it that every one of them learned to spin and knit, even the boys!”
Mrs. Schauff is particular about not washing the fleece.  It's best, she says, with all the natural oils left in it. She cards, spins and knits it up in its natural state. Then comes the washing process, with a mild soap and soft water. When it is dry, it is, she asserted, as soft and fluffy as a pet kitten.
As for dyeing, some folks hold with store dyes, but Aunt Barbara thinks there's nothing quite like a rich brown dye made from the hulls of the native black walnut.
Zippers Are Popular
The even, burnished brown sam­ple of her craftsmanship which she displayed to her visitors would have done credit to the most exacting pioneer dye maker. The zipper front on the dyed jacket gave the garment a finish and professional look.
A comment to that effect drew from Aunt Barbara a wry face.  Then with a twinkle in her eyes, she told how, for a long time she had re­fused to have any truck with the new fangled fasteners.  Finally one of her innumerable male relatives for whom she was knitting a sweat­er, outtalked her, and much against her better judgment she finished his garment off with a zipper.
To her surprise it caused its own­er no trouble. But it is causing the knitter plenty!  The word got around and now all the boys she has made sweaters for during the last two or three years, are coming prancing back with 'em, to have the fronts taken out and changed to zippers!
Life, it seems, is complicated, even in Arcadia!
(“Arcadia” as used figuratively above refers to A mountainous and picturesque district of Greece, in the heart of the Peloponnesus, whose people were distinguished for contentment and rural happiness.)
                                            Mrs. Schauff 1938
 
The “Coloroto” pic­ture of Mrs. Barbara Schauff in the header is from the Journal (presumably the Milwaukee Journal).  Coloroto stood for “color” and “roto” – a rotogravure printed in more t