May - The North Star Monthly

www.northstarmonthly.com MAY 2010 23
Up on the Farm Early
HISTORY IN A CUP
BY LORNA QUIMBY
Aline Faris, in a recent letter, asked, “Do you remember
when oatmeal boxes (maybe Mother’s
Oats) brought china buried in the cereal?” “Aha!”
I thought. “That’s where that cup came from.”
For years—I’m not going to
say how many—I’ve washed an
odd cup when I cleaned the
dish cupboards. It’s not especially
attractive, plain white with
a narrow green band around the
edge. Its shape is nothing out
of the ordinary. It doesn’t appear
to be china, more like milk
glass. There is no matching
saucer. Where I got it was lost
in the fogs of the past. But
when Aline mentioned oatmeal
I suddenly remembered Maw
pulling the cup out of an oatmeal
box.
Dad picked up our groceries
at Bert’s store in South
Peacham. One staple we always
had on hand was oatmeal.
When you had as many mouths
to feed as Dad and Maw had,
cheap and filling was what you
bought. So most of the time
we ate oatmeal for breakfast.
Brand names meant little, for
the massive surge in advertising
was only beginning. Still, a
small gimmick added to a product
could make the difference
between staying on the shelf or
going home with a customer.
During the 20s and 30s giveaway
dishes were the gimmicks
that sold soap powders, brought
people to the movies—a chance
for a set of dishes influenced
the choice of which film to go
to—and, of course, oatmeal.
Our daily lives went along
on an even path. Not much
happened on the farm except
for the everlasting chores.
Chores changed with the seasons,
but even that change was
predictable. So the possibility
of a new dish or cup broke up
the monotony. When Maw
opened the new box, we stood
around waiting to see what she
unearthed from the rolled oats.
When the plain white cup appeared,
Maw was disappointed.
It didn’t match anything she
had.
By that time Maw’s dishes
had suffered from the ministrations
of four girls who wanted
to get the chore of dishwashing
over as quickly as possible.
Handles on cups were especially
vulnerable. And there were at
least two cups and saucers used
at every meal, more if there
were a hired man or visitors.
Maw and Dad drank coffee
at breakfast, tea for dinner and
supper. It was a sign you were
really grown up when you were
allowed to have a cup of either
beverage. When you were little,
you could soak your toast crusts
in Dad’s cup of well-sweetened
coffee but you never had tea.
Maw made drip coffee in an
aluminum pot. She made tea in
a china tea pot. And she used
loose tea, spooning the leaves in
to the heated pot and using a
tea strainer to prevent tea leaves
in her cup. Maw wasn’t fussy
which tea she used, but Gar,
who had learned to brew tea to
suit Alvin’s taste, always used
Salada. At that time Salada tea
came in a foil package and was
supposed to be superior to any
other (advertising again).
Maw’s tea pots were always
dark brown pottery with
brightly colored lines and dots
for flowers around the top.
Gar’s, as I remember, had a design
of embossed latticework
of white porcelain with painted
leaves and flowers. It’s hard to
describe the bumpy design a little
girl noticed. Tea pots were
vulnerable to knocks, especially
the spouts. A small nick in the
spout meant some of the tea
dribbled down the pot and left
drips on the oil cloth. The covers
with their knobs or delicate
china handles were also easily
broken. (Aline broke the cover
on her mother’s heavy crockery
pot and still feels bad at the
memory.) You still used the
pot, though. An odd sauce dish
(and where would that come
from?) sat in the hole and kept
in the heat. You just had to be
sure to hold the saucer so it
wouldn’t fall into the cup.
What puzzles me is how I
came to have the cup. When
you are fourth in line, your
chances of getting a prize are
slim at best. Probably I got it
because the cup is not all that
pretty. Or maybe it was my
turn. I’m sure I was loud in my
assertion if that was the case.
Anyway, the cup went into my
treasure box along with the
Shirley Temple dish and the little
vase from Richter’s store.
I still have the vase, white
china, about five inches tall,
with an idealized girl’s face in a
bunch of purple violets. The
edge has chipped but otherwise
it is whole as is my prize cup.
Thank you, Aline, for reminding
me.
Building & Remodeling
Painting & Wallpapering
JAMES F. EMMONS
CONSTRUCTION
Jim (802) 684-3856 1154 Bruce Badger Memorial Hwy.
Danville, VT 05828
David Matte
FIC
P.O. Box 88
Danville, VT 05828
802.684.3371
Deb Wallens-Matte
FIC, LUTCF
P.O. Box 88
Danville, VT 05828
802.684.3371