The circus was still coming! The circus was still coming ... until it was not.
Imagine the disappointment at Pine Bluff and Little Rock in November 1919 when the Arkansas Gazette reported that muddy Louisiana had trapped the 600-member Sells-Floto Circus in shackles of muck. Mired on the show grounds at Opelousas, the circus had canceled the rest of its tour.
So disappointing, then and today. Advance publicity published Nov. 2, 1919, made this circus sound very promising ... For example, it promised an easy Old News column for me to write and for you to read. And the blurb included a sizable photo of a bemused woman standing next to a horse that was sitting on its horsie haunches.
The Gazette promised me — err, I mean, promised readers in 1919 — that this show included "girl circus performers" who did not dabble in "night life." Even though they were suspiciously athletic, they were young ladies of decorous and wholesome habits.
The quizzical woman in the photo wears spangled, ankle-length culottes and a modestly cut, spangled top with short sleeves. Atop her bobbed or upswept hair sits a mass of something spotted that might be a spangled chapeau, but I want it to be a big ol' bow.
The part of the circus that would feature these women, 200 of them, was called Spangleland.
The Gazette reported that these healthy girls ate nutritious food on spick-and-span tables. These girls could leap, ride or balance along their hazardous way "unperturbed" because "somersaulting on bareback horses in three rings, wire dancing above stages or sweeping in great parabolas high up under canvas domes" was plenty of exercise.
No, indeed, rules for dieting and exercising are not needed by circus women. Likewise the tinkle of the ice in the wine cooler is not music to their ears, for their "night life," and that of all circus people, consists of hurrying to the trains after the night show, where it is no time until they are sound asleep in stateroom or berth.
The show would open with a spectacle called "The Birth of the Rainbow." Performers would include hundreds of mounted people as well as 50 "ballet girls." These girls would be admired for the freshness of their young beauty.
Also, world heavyweight champion Jack Dempsey would re-enact his July 4 fight with someone named Jesse Willard at Toledo, Ohio.
Awww ... no circus for us. We will have to play with the ads instead.
SAY WHAT?
In light of the grave history of the Elaine Massacre, which was in the news during that long-ago week because alleged perpetrators were on trial for their lives, unjustly, ads for a Kellogg's cereal made me spill my coffee.
These ads tell the reader how to ask for Kellogg's Korn Krisp: "K! K! K! Just Say KKK to the Grocer." Some of the ads add, "You know exactly what that means!"
No, I didn't. And I was thinking the worst until I came across the first insertion of this ad campaign in the Gazette, on July 21, 1919. Addressed to Arkansas housewives, it is a letter signed by W.K. Kellogg. (In October, another ad carried a similar letter, but it was addressed to the housewives of Texas.) He describes the new cereal made with extra thick corn flakes. He guarantees satisfaction. If the housewife doesn't like the cereal, she should take the box back to the grocer for her money back.
The ad adds: "To Every Grocer in This City: You know exactly what our guarantee means — that it is an open and above board promise, relying solely upon the judgment and taste of the purchaser of a package of Kellogg's Korn Krisp. This guarantee applies without reserve to the initial purchase of Kellogg's Korn Krisp by any of your customers."
SPEAKING OF BREAKFAST
From the Times Have Changed department comes an ad for Ralston Wheat Food in the Nov. 11, 1919, Gazette. Ralston was made then by the Ralston Purina Co., and ads for the cereal used a checkerboard motif like the company's ads for livestock feed — the cow chow, rabbit chow and so forth. I would show you a Ralston ad featuring children if I could find an elegant way to joke about Kiddie Chow.
No elegance is required to enjoy the Nov. 11, 1919, Ralston ad. It is amazing on its own, without the addition of jokes.
The text addresses itself to housewives who have noticed "the extremely small" amounts of sugar that their families eat with Ralston Wheat Food and wonder "whether it is entirely a good thing to have so little sugar eaten at breakfast."
How could breakfast without sugar be nourishing enough?
The ad explains that Ralston includes "the heart of the wheat" — a little germ that makes it taste sweet without the addition of the "food substitute" sugar.
Its sweet and nut-like flavor is largely responsible for the fact that most people eat little or no sugar with their Ralston — some even adding a dash of salt, as they do to melons.
CANNED TRIPE
The Oct. 24 Gazette had an ad for Morris' Supreme Family Tripe, in the yellow and black can.
Morris Supreme Tripe is preferred by people everywhere who enjoy this delicious dish.
ATTENTION!
In the Arkansas Democrat of Nov. 12, 1919, a two-column, two-inch ad demands, "Attention!"
This space belongs to Central Printing Co., and will be filled each Tuesday and Thursday with a series of "ads" — don't fail to see them all — and we would invite a criticism of the same as a whole, individually, or any idea or ideas advanced in any of them. Your opinion will be appreciated.
Six days later, on a Thursday, a second ad appeared, thanking patrons for remitting what they owed for their month's business by mail or in person so Central Printing didn't have to hire a collector.
And that was it. I see no series.
HAT STRESS
Also Nov. 12 but in the Gazette, a small ad for the Gus Blass Men's Store instructs men in the newest winter fashion: creasing the crown of the hat. It was "a hard little knack if you don't know how — like the giant swing at the gym. Looks easy, but try it."
You start with the first finger like this, and end with a twist of the wrist, like that. Result — a rich relief from the commonplace.
My favorite parts of this ad are the "this" and the "that." There are no illustrations other than a slim man (who looks a bit like former KARK weathercaster Tom Bonner) dangling his fingers over his hat and wearing a pleased expression.
RAW WATER
In the Nov. 13, 1919, Democrat, the Anderson Water Co. on East Ninth Street in Little Rock warns the reader against "raw water":
Radiator specialists tell us that raw water eats up the tin in radiators and causes leaks. ... Now, if this water, which you drink, will eat into such substances as tin and iron, what will it do to the tender linings of your stomach and intestines?
The company sold distilled water — with "all those injurious mineral salts removed."
AND FINALLY
I will leave you with this:
Herpicide Mary says
To stop hair loss and rid your scalp of dandruff use Newbro's Herpicide. Sold everywhere.
I'm not doing anything anybody named Herpicide Mary tells me to do.
Email:
Style on 11/11/2019