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Originally posted on Mrs Daffodil Digresses.

The Love Letter, Raimundo Madrazo

In Madrid a young lady, noted for her beauty and musical gifts, whom I had met on several occasions at the British Embassy, paid me a visit in company with her duenna in order to ascertain something very near what, I presume, she would have termed her heart. The stately duenna waited discreetly in the anteroom whilst my fascinating visitor, with impassioned volubility, declared the object of her visit. It was just this: Two young bloods of Madrid were very much in love with her. On family grounds one was as acceptable as the other, and, personally, she really had no preference. She could not marry both, but, eventually, would surely marry one of them — but which? Would I advise her? Would I make the choice for her? Alas! what had I to do with other people’s little love affairs? And what man has yet been born who could safely and wisely take upon himself such a momentous decision? Obviously I promptly declined the role cast for me. But she resented my refusal with the prettiest possible display of petulance.

I explained that in my country when in doubt we frequently tossed for it, letting the spin of the coin determine our decision. It, I added, would possibly collide with her conception of things to toss a coin with “Heads — Jose; tails —Juan.” She agreed that it would not be a convincing decision. It, to tell the truth, was much too matter-of-fact for her romantic disposition. There is chance, but precious little sentiment, associated with the tossing of a coin. Finally, I suggested that as she was uncertain in her choice, and as, presumably, it didn’t really matter much either way who was the successful suitor, she should…

via Choosing a Husband for Clarita: c. 1915 | Mrs Daffodil Digresses.

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Happy New Year to Followers Old and New!

Now don’t all shout at once but I have Mr FND’s computer to work on! It’s not a Mac so progress is slow (I loathe everything about Windows – ugh!) but the USB stick works with it (we don’t have WiFi) and thus I can do a little more than I’ve been able to do with data roaming on the mobile.

In the meantime, I give you an amusing ditty from 100 years ago to welcome 2015.

Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah x

From Troubles of The World

The Antiseptic Baby and the Prophylactic Pup
Were playing in the garden when the Bunny gamboled up;
They looked upon the Creature with a loathing undisguised; —
It wasn’t Disinfected and it wasn’t Sterilized.

They said it was a Microbe and a Hotbed of Disease;
They steamed it in a vapor of a thousand-odd degrees;
They froze it in a freezer that was cold as Banished Hope
And washed it in permanganate with carbolated soap.

In sulphurated hydrogen they steeped its wiggly ears;
They trimmed its frisky whiskers with a pair of hard-boiled shears;
They donned their rubber mittens and they took it by the hand
And ‘lected it a member of the Fumigated Band.

There’s not a Micrococcus in the garden where they play;
They bathe in pure iodoform a dozen times a day;
And each imbibes his rations from a Hygienic Cup —
The Bunny and the Baby…

View original post 12 more words


This charming vintage bride comes from The Old Design Shop and is the cover of a 1915 Easter edition of the American periodical, Pictorial Review.  The Great War (WWI) was being waged in Europe at the time and the United States, many of whose citizens were firmly on the side of neutrality, had yet to join.  American feelings about the war were encapsulated by the popular song, also from 1915, I Didn’t Raise My Boy To Be A Soldier, with lyrics by Alfred Bryan, music by Al Piantadosi and sung by Ed Morton. This sheet music cover comes from Wikipedia.


Take care and keep laughing!

Sarah

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