I have an extensive collection of old farm periodicals and a recurring theme on the humor pages is the busy, hard working farm wife and her lazy, ne'er do well husband.

In the December 1926 issue of Farm Life, a monthly magazine published in Spencer, Indiana, by Farm Life Publishing, appeared the following so-called "Letter to the Editor."

 

Dear Editor,

"Wunst more I'm tellin' you—" it were the wife of my bosom speakin' to me acrost my breakfast pancakes and 'lasses—"I want those plants of mine took to the cellar, where they won't freeze in this cold and drafty old house. I declare you're enough to wear out the patience of a wooden injun. Everything I want done, I haft'a talk and talk—"

"And talk and talk and talk," I completes, puttin' my hat on the table, which always makes Marthy furious mad. And shovin' back my chair I sauntered out the door.

At the dinner table I listened to a discussion of my weaknesses, chief of which, accordin' to my Cheerful Sunshine, were puttin' off things.

At the supper table, Marthy announced it were gettin' colder, and she wanted her flowers moved at wunst.

"I got a pain in my head, a touch o' rheumatiz' in my knee, and my stummick ain't just up to normal," says I, "but tomorrow, Marthy, I'll move your plants sure."

"Ben Puttin-It-Off," snaps she, "I believe you'll be the death of me yet!"

At bed time it were still colder, and Marthy retired madder'n a wet hen, and full of doleful prophesies about the fate of her precious plants.

It were midnight or more, when I were awokened by a mournful, familiar sound, and the knowledge that I'd committed a frequent but terrible crime—I had failed to put out Jerushy, the family cat.

If Marthy waked and heard that "mee-yow," why I were due for another lecture, so I hustled out, quiet but brisk, and stumbled through the dark and cold to the door and opened it for kitty's exit.

Pussy, though, found it were colder than she thought and she took one look and scampered back.

"You will, will you?" says I, sarcastically, and shut the door and followed Jerushy.

A pair of green eyes under the stove were my goal and I made haste, with the bitter cold stinging my scanty clad form, and the fear hangin' over me that any minute I might hear, "Watch'a doing there, Ben?"

"Crack!" That were my shin against a chair.

"Crash!" That were a flower pot and what it held, tumblin' to the floor.

"Hey, Marthy, come here quick—I'm kilt or stabbed, or somethin'!" That were me, as I danced about on one foot, holdin' the other in my hand, because it were stuck plumb full of needles or pins, or somethin'.

As I hopped about in agony, urgin' Marthy to hurry with the light, I stepped again square upon that fearful stingin' thing, and naturally lost my balance and sat down sudden and painful on the same secret foe.

Marthy arrived about here, and none too soon, with the light.

"For the love of Lysander, what ails you, Ben?" And then she spies the wreck.

"You've busted up my best Californy cactus!"

"I don't give a hoot in Halifax if every Californy cactus in the United States is smashed all to pieces, and the pieces throwed in the ocean," I roars, rubbin' anxiously where the nettles were thickest. "What in the blinkety-blink blim-blam do you want to set your old plants on chairs for, to break a fella's arms and legs, and to fill him full'a quills like a porcupine!"

"Didn't I tell you forty times to take them to the cellar?" says she.

"You know good and well," says I, "that I aimed to, but I just kept puttin' it off. Get your spectacles and a pair of tweezers and pull these stickers out'a me."

"Put your foot up here," says Marthy.

"Mee-yow," says Jerushy, under the stove.

Yours, in affliction,

Ben Puttin-It-Off

Could the white ring around this moon be warning of rain or snow? Photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons user SeanMack

 

Early American farmers (and I'm sure many others) held some strange beliefs. Many of these superstitions survived until well into the 20th century, and some may still be around today. As one old farmer said, "A lot of folks don't believe in signs, but a heap o' times the frost nips them folkses' taters." Following is a list that I've come up with.

• Plants of darkness (root crops, such as carrots, beets, potatoes, etc.) should be planted in the dark of the moon, or they'll go all to tops.
• Above-ground crops should be planted in the light of the moon.
• To (successfully) grow hot peppers, one must get mad while planting them.
• If the sun sets behind a bank of clouds on Thursday, it will rain before Sunday.
• If there's sweat on the outside of a metal watering trough, it's going to rain.
• If you see lightning in the south, it will be dry weather.
• A red sunset foretells clear weather, while a yellow sunset means rain or worry. (A little different than the familiar "Red skies at night, sailor's delight, red skies in morning, sailor's warning).
• If the electric wires hum, there will be a lightning storm.
• Thunder in February means there will be frost in May (another version says April).
• If the wind spreads a chicken’s tail feathers, it’s going to rain.
• A white ring around the moon means rain or snow.
• One could take one's pick of the following two theories about the moon and the possibility of rain.
• If the new moon is facing with its points down, it'll soon rain because the moon is full of water and it's just dumped it all. But on the other hand, if the new moon is on its back, it'll soon rain because it's full of water and will soon overflow.
• Feed your watchdog gunpowder to make him fierce.
• A dream told before breakfast will come true.
• The following actions will surely bring bad luck: Shake hands across a gate; sweep the floor after sunset; get out of bed left foot first; carry an ax, shovel or hoe through the house; move a broom from one house to another (unless you first throw it over the roof of the old house); whirl a chair on a single leg (I can understand this one); spill salt; look at the moon through bushes, or drop a hat on the bed.
• It was also bad luck for a woman or a girl to walk across a room with her bottom bare, or for two people to pass on the stairs.
• Eggs set on Sunday will hatch all roosters.
• If you sweep under the bed of a sick person, that person will never regain his strength.
• If you have money in your pocket when you first see the new moon, turn the money over and you’ll have money the rest of the year.
• To cure foot cramps, turn your shoes bottom side up before going to bed.
• To cure fits, tear off the sufferer’s shirt or blouse and burn it.
• If your wife can’t get pregnant, spank her with a split shingle.
• To cure a sty on the eye, touch it with the tip of a black cat’s tail.
• To cure whooping cough, drink mare’s milk.
• Wear gold beads around the neck to cure a sore throat, or red beads to stop a nose bleed.
• To cure chapped lips, kiss the middle rail of a rail fence.
• If a girl burns the cornbread, it means her sweetheart will be angry with her.
• A pan of kerosene under the bed cures rheumatism.
• If a girl catches a butterfly and bites off its head, she’ll get a new dress of the same color.
• If a girl leaves cobwebs on the kitchen door, her suitor won’t come back.
• If a sparking girl sits on a table, she won’t be married for another year.
• If a girl clips her fingernails on nine successive Sundays, her sweetheart will come for dinner.
• If a girl gets her apron wet while washing, her husband will be a drunk.
• If a red-bird flies across a girl’s path, she’ll be kissed before the night is over.
• If a girl stubs her toe, and right away kisses her thumb, a sweetheart will appear.
• If a girl’s skirt flies up it means her sweetheart is thinking of her.
• It'll frost six weeks after you hear the first katydid.
• If, when you blow out a candle, the wick smolders for a long time, bad weather is on the way.
• Frost is out of the ground when you hear the first frogs.
• Plant corn when the oak leaves are as big as a squirrel's ear.
• It'll soon rain when smoke from the chimney falls to the ground.
• Rain before seven, quit by eleven.
• A pig with a curly tail is easily fattened.
• Set eggs so they hatch in the sign of Cancer.
• Never set an even number of eggs to hatch.
• Cradle your rye on the Fourth of July. (In other words, cut your rye with a cradle scythe)
• Your corn should be knee-high by the Fourth of July.
• To establish your dominion over an unbroken horse, rub a dab of your sweat on his nose.
• If three people with the same first name get together, you can be pretty sure one is a fool.
• On Candlemas Day (2 February) half the wood and half the hay (should be left).

It would be fun to hear from readers who have additional examples of old folk beliefs, or variations on the ones given here.