FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1955
THE TIME FOR WEDDINGS
By MABEL SLACK SHELTON in The Christian Science Monitor
Thia is the time for weddings, j
The corn has been husked; oats,
rye, and wheat have been thresh
ed. The hay is in; mows are filled,
and corn fodder is in a stack near
Hie barns. Marriageable sons of
farm families can be spared
a few weeks to visit around
among relatives, which is the
Amish equivalent to a honeymoon.
We smile at an item in the coun
ty paper which states that a
newly wedded pair in our com
munity has set up house-keeping
in the father-in-law’s summer
kitchen. To the uninitiated, this
might sound like a hardship, but
we know how pleasant those sum
mer kitchens are. Furloughed for
the winter now, they are- really a
part of the main house and are
equipped with good ranges, cup
boards, tables and chairs, and
only need the addition of a couch
bed and a heating stove to make
adequate living quarters.
And everyone knows that by
spring the new home will be
ready for occupancy on whatever
quarter-section of land the groom
has been given by his family.
w iTz 'Ft n
The young man
who waited
for the price
of real estate
to come down.
E. E. MEEKINS
Realtor
Phone Manteo 101
JL K A HOW D 0 YOU FEEL
LET THE fx» * BOUT
POP JM. (MUISAMCE
/ 4 ® TAXES?
AL p A A
(li) JR /] There is a proposal before the Legislature to
\\ “ I ""j - i\\ impose a nuisance tax on soft drinks in North
\\ IF" I / C ar °l* na ’ This P ro Pos ed tax would raise the
\\ //Il .' / price you pay for soft drinks by 20 per cent.
j| 1/ IJ |\ TT »/y
JI Z' [( I*l \ \ // ot l ier words, you’d be taxed extra for enjoy*
, / / ✓ \ \ tA/ 7/7 nient of a low-priced, wholesome pleasure I How
| xj | penalty on soft drinks? What are you going to
| I I < ‘° about it?
// zz n// 1 / Z/ / L Help us defeat this unbound, unfair tax that
fly J * 11A /\\
\ A -'^ , would fall hardest on groups —such as children
*/'' J an< l working people—least able to pay it .. .
» w T
/ \; I . THIS IS YOUR FIGHT, TOO!
A I
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Here’s How the Bottling industry Stands:
I
"We ask no special favors and we seek no exemptions. No business has the right to expect to escape fair taxation
but every business has the right to expect that it alone will not be singled out for a special tax not applying
to other products on the merchants’ shelves.”
North Carolina Bottlers Association, Inc.
I Last Tuesday marked the union
of Anna Speicher and Dan Stein
feldt, nineteen and twenty-one
years old respectively, and the
product of two lovely “Church
Amish” families. All weddings are
strictly home affairs, however,
and we had the good fortune to
be invited to this one.
Weddings start at eight-thirty,
and by the time we arose the
black buggies of Amishland were
already wending their way along
the snowy shoulder of the shining
ribbon of highway which wends
over the gently rolling hills.
Amos and Emmaline stopped by
for us. And for once no tempting
odors assailed our nostrils as we
climbed into their family carriage.
Neighbors do not take food to
weddings. Emmaline had helped
her second cousin, Minna
Speicher, mother of the bride-to
be, for two days last week,
though, and she had already told
me that the wedding feast was
to be “wonderful good.”
The sun had dispersed a little
of the chill in the air by the time
we drove into the Speicher barn
yard and turned the horse over
to the red-cheeked young men who
were acting as voluntary hostlers.
Invitations had been issued to
“Old Order” people as well as the
“New,” and though there were
broadbrims and black bonnets and
fringed woolen shawls to be seen
on every side, it was a ‘dress-up”
occasion, with the men wearing
“mitzies” under their greatcoats,
and many of the young girls sur
prising us with the brilliance of
the colors they used in combina
tion with their sedate dresses. I
noted many purple aprons and
orange scarfs.
The home was finely furnished,
according to local standards, with
a bottled-gas range in the kitchen,
decorated furniture, and karre
bets, (carpets) on the floors of
the main rooms, which had been
thrown together by means of fold
ing doors to accomodate the two
hundred and fifty wedding guests.
There was a sea of bobbinet-cap
ped heads on the ladies’ side, for
even the babies wear white caps
at a wedding. The bride was
pretty in her blue wedding dress,
and her cap was streamlined in
thin white mesh.
Wedding gifts showed a greater
leniency in choice, too, I saw, as
we placed our offering of a white
tablecloth alongside the plump
goose-feather pillows brought by
the Zauggs.
The parlor room was gay with
colorful hooked rugs, patchwork
cushions, and a plush-bound fam
ily album. Four bishops were
there, as well as a preacher and
numerous deacons.
Everybody weeps at an Amish
wedding, including the clergy. The
service began with forty-five .min
utes of singing, during which
Anna and her nice-looking Dan
were subjected to much scrutiny
as they sat in a prominent place
between the two rooms. The serv
cie lasted for three and a half
hours. The preachers stood in the
doorway; the guests were seated
on long, backless benches. An
uncle of the bride preached until
ten; then there was silent prayer,
with everyone kneeling; then one
of the deacons read in impressive
passage of scripture.
The bishop took up the dis
course and preached until eleven
thirty, when the young couple
stood up to answer the fateful
questions. He then placed their
bands together and pronounced
them husband and wife. After
that, brief and appropriate re
marks were made by other clerics
without rising; then came the
main celebration of the day; the
wedding feast.
Much visiting took place while
the hot dishes were being placed
on the tables before we were call
ed to eat, with many saying kindly
to me, “You’re here right along,
ain’t?” And .many reminiscences
were exchanged about other wed
dings. “It gets ten years till May
that ve vas married.” And of
course the young people were gay
to the point of hilarity.
How describe a wedding feast?
To see one displayed is to see the
culmination of all the incompar
able foods the Dutch prepare.
Sweet pickles balance sour ones;
eggs and red beets offset ginger
tomatoes; rhubarb and strawberry
jam compete with apple butter
and spiced peaches, while cljow
chow and pickled red cabbage add
their vivid colors to the display.
And these are only accompani
ments to the main meal!
The bride’s table has the
choicest food (if choice is pos
sible) and young friends of the
couple sit at this the “corner
table.” There is much singing, and
the meal last for three hours.
These are hard-working, hard
liviing and hard-praying people,
and this is one of their rare days
of jollification. Yet it has its
sober, touching .moments, too—as
when the company forms a “com
pleted circle” and “shake and kiss”
and say, “God bless you.”
The party for the young people
progressed to the barn, where it
would last 1;ill almost morning,
with a supper break, but it was
THE COASTLAND TIMES, MANTEO, N. C.
[glimpses
OF
THE PAST
By CAROLYN LLOYD
Trust the younger generation to
keep their doddering elders in their
places. I quote from a paragraph
written recently by one of my pu
pils: “Flapper Anne was a b>ok
about the olden days. A flapper
was a teen-ager of long, long ago.”
Ah me, I was a flapper once. Oh,
happy olden days.
Again, just recently, I overheard
a teenager telling another about a
movie. “There was this real old
woman,” she said. “She must have
been almost forty—.” Ouch.
Speaking of the olden days, I
see that the fashion designers are
reviving another old style—the
middy blouse. Even if I were of the
age and type to wear the style, it
wouldn’t appeal to me, for back in
the long, long ago I wore enough
middy blouses to last me the rest
of my life. On school days, I wore
a white middy with blue braid
stripes and stars on the collar, with
matching pleated white skirt. On
Sundays, the outfit was identical,
except that it was made of blue
serge with white braid. Now. that
kind of costume can become mighty
monotonous, and many a little girl
wished fervently that she could
throw her middies into the fire.
Mothers, on the other hand,
thought them wonderful, for the
material was sturdy and could
stand a lot of laundering. The
knee-length socks worn by girls to
day are similar to the three-quarter
length ones we wore with our
middy suits when we got past the
ribbed stocking stage. Let us hope
that the world of fashion doesn’t
get desperate enough to go back to
those monstrosities—especially the
black ones.
What happene to blue serge any
how? For years I wore a blue
serge suit made over from one of
my mother’s, and the thing never
did wear out; I just outgrew it
thank goodness. It was such a
sensible suit, and the last thing I
wanted to do was look sensible.
Certainly no one could look glam
orous in a blue serge suit. Design
time for the older folks to leave
for home and chores. Looking
back at the dozen-roomed brick
farmhouse mothering a brood of
low-built chicken houses, spring
house, smokehouse, and pigpens,
that make up the Speicher farm,
I knew that no one wondered
whether or not this wedding
would last. Whatever they do is
“for keeps and the completed
circle is the story of their lives.
ers predict that navy blue will be
a leading color this spring but
they don’t say anything about its
being sensible navy and they would
be the last to want it to last for
years.
Other materials and styles of
the “olden days” may bfe revived
any day now. Knitted suits and
dresses came back, so perhaps the
flowery chiffons, the pongees, and
the rattans may once again have
their day. Men have adopted so
many styles and colors once pecu
liar to women’s dress that the gar
ment inustry will simply have to
think of something different to
keep the women ahead of the fash
ion game.
As for me, if my pupils keep on
consigning everyone past twenty
five to the wheel chair, all I will
need for spring is a woolen shawl
and a hot water bottle.
Nothing can be more annoyiing
tha squeaky shoes. To eliminate
this annoyance, rub linseed oil
into the soles.
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