Candid's Obesity Cure / Cats in Personal Ads / Win A Can of Comfort
The Bankhead Gleaner, January 23, 2023
Amateur cryptographers! Are you a dab hand when it comes to cyphers? A Bletchley Park coulda-shoulda-been? If so, I need your assistance. I’ve found some coded messages, an 1890’s exchange, and I’m desperate to find out what they mean. I’m offering a swell incentive, too. Details can be found below, somewhere.
1. CATS IN PERSONAL ADS
Before we come to the contest, I’d written about Barry Benefield’s 1927 novel Bugles in the Night, and about one character’s fascination with the personal ads in The New York Herald at the turn of the last century. Mrs. Bullwinkle, as Benefield named her, enjoyed tracking the progress of covert love affairs as messages were exchanged and assignation arranged. I feel a kinship with Mrs. Bullwinkle, because I also waste precious time in this way. No doubt there are many daily papers that repay the small effort required to trace such dalliances, but my favourite, for the time being, is the London Morning Post. What follows, from the Post are two such chains of correspondence, complete as near as I can determine. They have Cat in common. The year is 1890.
Jan 1. PUSSY CAT. — A Happy New Year to you. You think apparently silence is golden. I find it heartbreaking.
Jan 3. TO B. B. — Was to Pussy-Cat on New Year’s Day from you? If so, answer and give initials. The silence has been of your wish.
Jan 4. MIECHEN. — Pussy Cat. — The good wishes on New Year’s Day were from me. Acknowledge silence was my fault but believe have acted for the best. Am longing for end of February when all will be well. Love to V. and E. — M.b.L.b.S.
Jan 8. B. B. — Beware of false friends and evil advisers. Hope for February are doubtful. What then? Alas for F. and E. MIECHEN.
Feb 17. PUSSY CAT. — My sole object is your happiness, mine has vanished. Would you see me here, or may I write? My last request.
Feb 18. P. — Write once only. Alone till Friday.
March 3. PUSSY CAT. — Many thanks. Now and always you have my heartiest good wishes.
(I’m not absolutely persuaded that the penultimate note, for February 18, belongs. The addressee doesn’t fit with the rest of the chain, but the content and timing suggest the connection.)
Here’s the second, separate, and longer, Cat sequence, same paper, same year. The facsimile above — as in The New York Herald, these ads appeared on the front page of the Morning Post — shows it in context. (X. B. Y. and EVOLYM are also chronic posters.)
March 17. RAT to CAT. — I long to meet you. Your troubles are like mine, hard to put up without you. Always at club at five. Looking forward for letters from dearest cat. Can Eva send money. Devoted as ever.
March 19. RAT to CAT. — Cheer up, pet. Eels get used to skinnings. I am as devoted as ever. Can Eva help you? Will call at club in morning and write one day; will meet the next. Glad the Pack returns. Thanks for letter.
March 24. RUBY. — Letter sent to Cat. Your blessing is a ray of sunshine. Cheer up. Eva is always devoted.
March 28. RUBY. — I destroy all letters, so have forgotten address to send letter for Friday, hope soon to arrange business and happy meeting, dearest Cat. — EVA
Apri1 1. RUBY. — Much upset at your illness. Trust you will soon be well. How I long to be by your side. Thank so much for the happiness you gave me the other day, a few minutes with you is more than a lifetime alone. Cheer up, I am devoted and anxious. Can I help you?
April 4. RUBY. — Am anxious and miserable. How is dearest Cat? May God watch over you.
April 9. THANKS, THANKS. — Your letter received. What trouble (alone) with the truth and in pain. What would Eva give to be by the side of Dearest Cat? Shall we meet up again soon? Have had such a miserable, anxious week, but cheer up, and get well. Can I help you, ever devoted?
May 6. CAT. — Only seeing your dear face last week has cheered me up. Could not speak my feelings; might be noticed. Long for a letter. When shall we meet? Hope you are well. God bless you, Eva; how I hate them all. Blow the flowers.
May 7. CAT. — Cannot write second post with safety. Can I meet you tomorrow? Wire to club before one. Do not trust the beast.
May 8. CAT. — Genesis, 44 Chapter, 29 v.
And that’s where it ends. The Biblical verse, should you want to know — and you DO want to know — and if you don’t happen to have Genesis (King James Version) by heart, is:
And if ye take this also from me, and mischief befall him, ye shall bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.
2. WIN A CAN OF COMFORT
Whatever fairy bestows the gift of spatial reasoning and reckoning was not invited to my christening. I’m terrible at pattern recognition, can’t for the life of me fit things onto a grid. Scrabble is beyond me, crosswords annoy me, and those scrambled letters games I find impossible. Always have.
What follows is a five part coded exchange — the first, in context, is above — that also appeared in the London Morning Post personal ads, and I want to know what it says. I say “five part” even though, as you’ll see, there are six entries; I believe the one signed by MIZPAH AJAR is a separate entity, probably sent in fun, and I include it as a curiosity. If it’s decipherable, well, of course I’d be glad to know. I’ve tried and tried and even though I’m sure the way in is a simple one, an easy latch to lift, I can’t get through the gate.
I don’t expect you to work for nothing, so I will send, by mail, a tin of cream of mushroom soup — you may request a brand, although I recommend President’s Choice — to whoever figures this out. If there prove to be multiple laureates — a less likely eventuality I cannot call to mind — one name will be drawn from a moth-eaten toque, which I’d also be happy to send along with the soup, now that I think of it. You need only ask. Here we go.
March 25. EM evoy uo leets Tsetaerg od yeht daer ltrs.
March 31. GNILLIK yrt tsop swen teews pohs yeroy.
April 2. YLPMIS tested meht reven duim gnilrad eb eurt leets eh savoy no yldam liahs os yppah rehtegot roop ymmu suomrone eroy spiy.
April 12. NRAEY rof sessit ylpmis dam diw evoy nehw nwot etirw no teiuq gnol rof uo eired gnikniht guivoy elppa eurt leets.
April 16. TNOD tegrof yevoy licnep elddim thgin nehw noitats tsop retaerg naht reve.
April 17. QMFBTXSJUF jgqpttjemfmfu nflopxipx zpvbsfxibuzpv bsfenjoh Bntpboyjpvt upifbs tptmpxifsf sfnfncfsbepvu mfuujohzbdiu. — MIZPAH AJAR
You can post your answers, if any, in the comments section. Please be sure to explain how you arrived at your solution. My thanks you have already, my soup is forthcoming if the specified conditions are met.
3. CANDID’S OBESITY CURE
As near as I can figure, “The Chaperon” appeared in The Kansas City Star — at times weekly, at times biweekly, on Mondays or Fridays or Mondays and Fridays — from May 21, 1900 through October 27, 1939. Neither its advent nor its eclipse were heralded with anything like fanfare. It came, stayed a long time, then folded its tents when it understood its usefulness was done and made a decorous dash for the door.
“The Chaperon” — the usual American spelling, although at the outset it was “The Chaperone” — was intended for women readers. It occupied a full page, and it advised the concerned or the bewildered on questions of etiquette and deportment, and also dispensed tips on household management. It was smartly written — such columns, as much as one want to scoff at them, usually were and are suffused with a bracing brand of pre-wave-numbered feminism — and, I don’t doubt, that “The Chaperon” offered more than a little assurance and even solace to all kinds of women in all kinds of situations. A lifespan of almost forty years says just about all that needs to be said about the loyalty of “The Chaperon's” community and the needs it met.
I’m new to “The Chaperon,” so I can speak to its contents or virtues in an informed way; I found it — it’s always like this — while I was looking for something else. I kept seeing repeated references to something called “Candid’s Obesity Cure.” My first thought was that Candid was a turn of the century Dr. Pritikin or Atkins or some such weight loss guru, but I soon discovered that, no, Candid was one of the many readers who got in touch with “The Chaperon” — whoever was she? — and shared a life hack that had benefited her and might, she thought, help others. Here’s her letter, from April 19, 1909.
Dear Chaperon: In reply to “Vanity” and others who request something to reduce the flesh, I would like to give a simple, harmless remedy. I know from experience that “walking,” “physical culture,” and even “fasting” will not reduce some people, and I am one of them.
This simple remedy has helped me wonderfully.
The ingredients are twenty-five cents worth of Ivory soap and one pound of Epsom salts.
Directions for making follow:
Shave the soap into a granite kettle. Pour three quarts of hot, soft water over soap and put on back of stove until melted. Do not let it boil. Set aside until cold.
Dissolve the salts in a half pint of hot, soft water, and when both are cold, stir the salts into the soap, stirring until smooth and velvety.
Apply the soap directly to the skin, rubbing it in well, and then bathe it off in twelve hours.
If one is situated so as to apply night and morning the reduction will be more rapid — bit if one can only use it once per day, let it be at bedtime.
I have presented this formula to a dozen or more friends, and all give splendid reports.
This is my own formula, without “copyright” or other “red tape” attachments.”
Candid.
Now, I could spend the rest of the day — more than half-gone — on drawing for you the arc of the ripples generated by Candid’s pebble tossed into the “The Chaperon’s” pond. Suffice it to say that from the time her “cure” was published until the time “The Chaperon” took its final bow, someone was writing in and asking for the formula to be reprinted, or for points of clarification, i. e. how many bars of soap are represented by “25 cents worth?” (Five small or two large, apparently.) Many, many were the letters over those thirty years from readers saying that Candid’s obesity cure had helped them when nothing else had, and just as many were the huffy notes of indignation pronouncing it hokum.
I have neither the time nor will to document them all, nor do any of you care that much to read them. I will, however, post these two, which are representative. Both were written in reply to a woman who signed herself “Skeptically,” and who had inquired after the the cure and its efficacy. I adored the second, especially, mostly because of Mrs. M. A. Jenkins’s opening presentation of her credentials: “I am a Methodist…”, in which, I guess, is implicit a stake in truth-telling that, in 1910, would simply have been understood. And I’m very glad to know how much the application of soap and Epsom helped her varicose veins. Both letters were published on February 14 of that year.
Thanks for reading. If anyone tries the cure, let me know. (Some found it good for double chins, btw.) And decode at leisure. Cheers, BR
pls amend "can speak" to "can't speak" in that bit talking about how I'm new to The Chaperon. Thank you. I can now rest easy. B. R.
The puzzle starts with every word typed back to front. Then it becomes a bit more erratic, most of the Ls (especially with words such as love) have been replaced with Ys and some of the ys are missing in other words. For Mar 25 I think the final word is simply an abreviation for letters, and in other confusing cases it may simply be typos...and what the enormous lips are all about is anyones guess....
March 25. EM evoy uo leets Tsetaerg od yeht daer ltrs.
Me Love you steel greatest do they read letters?
March 31. GNILLIK yrt tsop swen teews pohs yeroy.
Killing try post news sweet shop Lovey?
April 2. YLPMIS tested meht reven duim gnilrad eb eurt leets eh savoy no yldam liahs os yppah rehtegot roop ymmu suomrone eroy spiy.
Simply detest them never mind darling be true steel he Loves on madly shail so happy together poor ummy? enormous yore Lips
April 12. NRAEY rof sessit ylpmis dam diw evoy nehw nwot etirw no teiuq gnol rof uo eired gnikniht guivoy elppa eurt leets.
Yearn for Kisses simply mad with love when town write on quiet long for you derie thinking loving apple true steel
April 16. TNOD tegrof yevoy licnep elddim thgin nehw noitats tsop retaerg naht reve.
Don’t forget Lovey pencil middle night when station post greater than ever
April 17. QMFBTXSJUF jgqpttjemfmfu nflopxipx zpvbsfxibuzpv bsfenjoh Bntpboyjpvt upifbs tptmpxifsf sfnfncfsbepvu mfuujohzbdiu. — MIZPAH AJAR
as you suspect - just nonsense