Things of Small? Value (In the Eye of the Beholder)

You could say that things are not my thing. But sometimes I find great pleasure in things that others might not consider significant. Antiques have never held much allure for me unless they have history that I can connect with in some way. For instance, I dragged around a gargantuan art deco bedroom set that belonged to my father's mother for many years, and finally sold it for much less than the value would be today and I'm still beating myself up for it. I hated the bedroom set; it's the idea of lost value and lost history that are eating at me. I still have old photos of people whose names I have long ago forgotten, and it is e x t r e m e l y difficult for me to let go of anything that another person gave me as a gift. I am hardly able to defile a book (write in it, bend the pages, etc.) and dislike giving or throwing them away. It's like if I keep the book, even if I hated it, I will benefit from the science, wit, experience, love, disappointment and sorrow, or whatever else was contained in those pages. I'm also a media freak, always collecting software, CD's, DVD's and all of the neat sorts of devices that make them useful. After all, there would be no symmetry to this semi-pathological collecting if it were not set to music.

I'm not over the edge yet. There is a place for everything, and even if its not in its place, none of it has grown mold, become a hazard to moving through the house or put us in danger of strange viruses... at least not on most days. I also wouldn't classify myself as a common pack-rat. I have my standards and refuse to collect old frozen food containers or balls of string, keep old newspapers (mostly worthless on the day they are printed anyway), or hang on to clothes I haven't worn since the 60's. Yes, I was born way before then. Otherwise, I would not have had time to accumulate these character building thingamabobs.

The item that inspired this little ditty is a Primer. Specifically The American Book Company of New York, Cincinnati, Chicago, Elementary Spelling Book, published in the 1880's, I think. The only real clue is an advertisement in the back for Webster's International Dictionary of the English Language ("A Grand Investment for Family or School") that covers the last page of the book. With regard to the Dictionary advertised, the following is available: "The Authentic Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, comprising issues of 1864, 1870, and 1884 (____still copyrighted), has been thoroughly revised and greatly enlarged under the supervision of Noah Porter, D.D., L.L.D., Ex-President of Yale University, and as its distinguishing title bears the name of (encircled) Webster's International Dictionary." There is more, but you get the idea. It's old.

I researched this item on the internet and it appears to be worth about as much as a good lunch. There are other existing copies and they are for sale. I may buy one so that I can see the first 36 pages that are missing in mine. For now though, I'll just be happy with the thing I like most about this book, which is the sense of history I get from it. I enjoy reading through it and thinking of the little lives it was shaping at the turn of the century. There is also a tangible sense of history contained in its pages.

These are some of the lessons our grandparents, or maybe your great-grandparents were learning at the turn of the century, taught in sentences designed to use their spelling words in context while driving home the morale of the day:

• Wolves howl in the woods at night.
• When the wind blows hard the sea roars, and its waves run high.
• The man who drinks rum may soon want a loaf of bread.
• The little sister can knit a pair of garters.
• God made the ear, and He can hear.
• Shut the gate and keep the hogs out of the yard.
• Parents should provide useful employment for their children.
• The Indians traffic with our people, and give furs for blankets.
• The drunkard's face will publish his vice and his disgrace.
• Sons and daughters inherit the estate and sometimes the infirmities of their parents.
• Savage nations inhabit huts and wigwams.
• The farmer hatchels flax; he sells corn by the bushel, and butter by the firkin.
• A virago is a turbulent, masculine woman.
• We should not trust our lives to unskillful doctors or drunken sailors.
• Never equivocate or prevaricate, but tell the plain truth.
• It is the duty of every good man to inspect the moral conduct of the man who is offered as a legislator at our yearly elections. If the people wish for good laws, they may have them, by electing good men.
• Discontent aggravates the evils of calamity.
• Option is choice. It is at our option to make ourselves respectable or contemptible.

A virago? A firkin? Hogs in the yard? Yikes!

It is interesting to me is that some of these old lesson examples are strikingly similar in meaning to what we might want our children to learn today, while others are clear references to the prejudices of the time, and some are blatant reminders of the way things have changed for the good in our country. It's a mini-snapshot of society evolving. Quite a few of the simple morales of this old text are relevant, even if the delivery of the information is different today. I think the greatest gap is seen in the direct references to God, the Bible, and morality lessons that were entrusted to the educators of this time.

I know that this is a long and wandering post, which may not be well suited for a blogbite, but I'm going to impose on your patience for just a little longer with one of the speller's fables.

THE FOX AND THE BRAMBLE from The Elementary Speller, published by The American Book Company (1880's)

"A fox, closely pursued by a pack of dogs, took shelter under the covert of a bramble. He rejoiced in this asylum, and for a while, was very happy; but soon found that if he attempted to stir, he was wounded by the thorns and prickles on every side. However, making a virtue of necessity, he forbore to complain, and comforted himself with reflecting that no bliss is perfect; that good and evil are mixed, and flow from the same fountain. These briers, indeed, said he, will tear my skin a little, yet they keep off the dogs. For the sake of the good, then, let me bear the evil with patience; each bitter has its sweet; and these brambles, though they wound my flesh, preserve my life from danger."

Even today we can feel trapped and injured by the very things that provide us shelter from harm. God, our jobs, our homes, our marriages, our friends, our families, our THINGS and our duty to preserve it all can be overwhelming. "No bliss is perfect."

What is the point of this post, you may ask. The point is only to share something interesting that ties us collectively to our heritage. I would give up this little book and all of my other trinkets if I could recover one small box of photographs of my children growing up that I lost in a basement flood years ago (sigh).

Just imagine how many of these small things of personal value were lost both to history and to our neighbors in Hurricane Katrina's wake.

Paula