Club Minutes: Mutual Improvement Association, 1912-1916

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Bound 201-page ledger containing original, handwritten minutes from December 6, 1912 to October 19, 1916 for the Mutual Improvement Association society located in Sandy Spring, Maryland. The Mutual Improvement Association has met continuously since May 1, 1857.

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164 Ingleside 3-2-1916

The Asso. met at Ingleside on 3-2-1916.

Mary T. Bond, Albina O. Stabler, Martha Holland, Eliza N. Moore, Eliz. T. Stabler, M. G. T. Moore, Alice Tyson, Mary Scott and Sallie R. Janney were absent.

Edith Hallowell, Eliz. Willson, Miriam Thomas and sons, and little Brook Moore aged 6 months, were guests of the day.

Fanny B. Snowden’s excellent sentiment was from an unknown source to some of us, - “It may be a little farther around the corners of a square deal, but the roads are better.”

Elma P. Chandlee gave a bright sketch of Robert H. Lord, the man who first wrote and had printed practical Christmas cards. He was a promising artist and poet while a school boy, and when grown he opened a small shop in Springfield Ill., for the sale of little souvenirs. He began on Christmas of new designs and mottos and soon turned them out, suitable for all known purposes and occasions when people send such a remembrance. Easter, birth-days, to parents, to children, to old friends, to lovers, to husbands, wives and travelers until every human relation had its own card. He was asked for one appropriate to a friend going abroad. He made it in the shape of a baggage-tag and put this rhyme, -

“I’d like to be a baggage tag With nothing else to do But dangle from a steamer trunk And tag along with you.”

Duplicates sold by thousands and it became the greatest globe-trotter ever known. One day he was tying up a calendar for a friend and he tucked in one of his own visiting cards upon which was written, “It’s and old, old wish – upon a little card, To wish you Merry Christmas But I wish it awful hard.”

These reproduced in the same size found 50,000 purchasers. Two others must be quoted, -

“When Santa Claus on Christmas Eve Upon your door comes knocking, I hope he’ll find a happy heart And leave a well-filled stocking.”

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“This gift is just a token Of good wishes from a friend, Whose love is vastly greater Than the present she can send.”

Florence Wetherald asked for new kinds of sandwiches as her soul was vexed with putting up lunches each day and every day that school kept. Ham, tongue, broiled bacon, nuts, cheese, jam and many others were suggested, but she had tried them all apparently. One genius said, “Give them plain bread and butter for awhile, or let them put up their own lunches.” Louisa T. Brooke thought canned soups especially liked and they may be heated on a spirit lamp.

Virginia Steer offered a short poem upon “Life’s Loneliness”

“Thoughts, words, and deeds To stand for truth in all, This is the crest that counts Staunch fortitude and strength of trials borne, Securely treading, though the way be uneven.”

Rebecca T. Miller told of an effort to arouse the nation on the subject of fire-prevention. The class of Bryn Mawr College has endowed five scholarships to make this new study possible, and the department of labor and industry has accepted the gift. Rebecca’s second selection was entitled “Success” –

“If you want a thing bad enough To go out and fight for it Work day and night for it Give up your time and your peace and your sleep for it, - If only the desire for it makes you quite mad enough Never to tire of it, x x x If gladly you’ll sweat for it Fret for it; If you’ll simply go after that thing you want With all your capacity, strength and sagacity If dogged and grim, You besiege and beset it You’ll get it.”

Mary E. Thomas told of taking lunch at the “Mary Elizabeth” Store and Tea Room on 5th Ave. N. Y.

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This young woman, who seems to have no use for a last name, began to made fine candy in Syracuse when a child. She gradually extended the business until she now pays $50,000 a year rent, and has been offered $100,000 for her plant. Her candy never brings less than $1.00 per lb.

Mary E. Gilpin read a few verses in praise of a laugh, -

“A laugh is just like sunshine It freshens all the day It tips the peaks of life with light And draws the clouds away.”

Emilie T. Massey said her daughter was still in Ga. enjoying the wonderful negro singers and the mocking-birds.

Sarah T. Miller told us her taste was reformatory so she had brought a fine speech by the Gov. of N.Y. (Chas. S. Whitman) upon “Penology”. The only hopeful system is that which strives to turn a criminal into a self-supporting individual who has become in some sense, a student or an expert during his incarceration. S. T. M. had visited a model Prison at Great Meadows near Saratoga.

The prisoners have various recreating and unusual privileges; in 4 yrs. 1800 men have been released, on parole, and only 100 have relapsed into crime and are again within walls.

Estelle T. Moore read lines from “The Bentztown Bard, - “Life’s Give and Take”, -

“You can’t slip off and be alone And leave the world to fight its way While you in some green woodland zone Disport in free and careless play; You can’t put by the toil and care, Forget the strife and fly afar, Beyond the hatred and despair The wounding weapon and the scar.”

E. T. M. showed us a patent seed-tape which her daughter had sent her as a sample from N. Y. The seed are placed on the tape at just the right distance apart, and the tape itself is fertilizer, - so there you are!

Ellen Farquhar had a witty parody on

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Kipling’s finest poem, - by Carolyn Wells which she termed, - “The Dresscessional”

Girl of the Future, feared of all Chasing the far-fleeing Fashion line, - What awful things may yet appal, Hang on your form divine! Girl of to-day, stay with us yet Lest we regret, Lest we regret! For foolish maid who puts her trust In French tailleur, or smart modiste, In valiant men of mien august Without discernment in the least, - For frantic fads of Fashion’s whirl, Have mercy on us Future girl!”

Eliz. Willson asked how to make a creamy rice pudding and Fanny B. Snowden gave, by request, her recipe. To a qt. of new milk put 3 tbsps. of rice, - sugar, salt and seasoning to taste, - cook in a double boiler until soft then bake an hour, stirring down frequently.

The weaving of new carpets from old ones was discussed, and they are considered very satisfactory in appearance and durability.

Louisa T. Brooke brought one of Phoebe Carey’s beautiful poems, - “The Better Way”, -

“I ask not wealth, but power to take And use the things I have aright; Not years, but wisdom that shall make My life a profit and delight. I do not ask for love below That friends shall never be estranged; But for the gift of loving, so My heart may keep its youth unchanged.”

In contrast was Mariana Miller’s clipping “The Voluntary Exile”, - those who are so afraid of being asked to do something for somebody they almost live like Robinson Crusoe, “out of humanity’s reach”. Large-hearted souls go about bearing the burdens of others and usually never realize what a beautiful service is theirs.

The Sec’y offered a scrap by Anne Warner,

"I do wish all tired people did but know the infinite rest there is in fencing off

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the six days from the seventh, in anchoring the business ships of our daily life, as the Saturday draws to its close, leaving them to ride peacefully upon the flow or the ebb, until Monday morning come again.”

The Sec’y also pre-empted Ellen Farquhar’s claim by reading one of Walt Mason’s anti-war screeds, - Restoration”.

In Europe when the war is done, the harried land will smile once more; the churches sacked by howling Hun, some gifted genius will restore. The ruined shrines will rise again, to cheer the pious passerby; but who’ll restore the brave young men, who left their happy homes to die? Again the rich and fruitful vine will grow on France’s sunny hills, where now the lethal bullet whines a requiem for the men it kills. Strong, patient hands will bring again the bloom to all the countryside; but who’ll bring back the fine young men who bade their girls farewell, and died? For all the wreckage do not grieve – a few years hence t’will be a dream; once more the busy looms will weave, the mill-wheels paddle in the stream; again the sage will take his pen, and art will gain its former stride; all will come back except the men who kissed their mother’s lips and died. All ruined things will be restored; the sunken ships will be replaced; and there will be an endless horde of men in soldiers trappings laced; the bear will mutter in its den, the lion roar in angry pride; but gone forever are the men who left their fathers’ roofs and died.”

Adjourned to the home of Sarah F. Willson Mary Bentley Thomas, Sec’y.

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