Village Squire, 1977-09, Page 25The humble rag
once had an important
place in rural society
BY MEMORY LANE
Rags: rather an umpretentious subject but as I sit here
wiping off these beautiful red astrachan apples with a damp
rag it takes me back to childhood.
Oh, I know if your son wanted to shine his motor -cycle he
would likely go downtown and buy a J -cloth. Not so years
ago.
I remember reading of Timothy Eaton's youth in Co.
Antrim, Ireland. how he would get beat up at Secondary
School because of his clothes. His father died rather young
and the family had to fare for themselves. Young Timothy
found himself an apprentice in a store by the river. This
meant the stock for the store was brought in any hour of the
day or night by boat. The job he loathed most was sorting
rags, rags, and more rags, dirty rags and lousy rags.
Do you remember when the rag man called? He also
bought feathers and horse hair.
Mother had two bins in the wine of the house - one for
woollen rags and the other for cotton rags. The woollen ones
were Important tor she was an artist at hooking rugs and
could bring up to $30. for a rug in Toronto.
The cotton ones went for various purposes. Some made
braided rugs.
We never heard of a wash cloth when we were kids, it was
the wash rag. Then Mother had a bag that was hung up to
hold the dust rags. When filling the coal oil lamps there would
sometimes be a spill and then one dashed tor a dust rag. In
fact we never bought furniture polish, for coal oil did a super
job of licking up the dust.
There was the dish rag. An undershirt or ladies vest was
most desirable. When they became stained from apples or
vegetables they could be tossed in the cook stove and burned.
A good housekeeper kept the top of her cook stove shining.
Sometimes 1 went over it with Old Dutch Cleanser before
freshly oiling the steel surface. These oily rags have caused
more than one house fire.
I've never seen grandchildren with colds like we used to
have. Perhaps they get an early application of antibiotics we
never heard of. At anv rate the nose would get sore and
crusted from frequent wipes. The handkerchiefs would run
out (no kleenex) and we would resort to rags. Ut course they
were neatly hemmed for the purpose but there would be that
rude little rat across the aisle at school that would refer to
your snot rag.
At school, slates were an important feature of one's
education. Some resorted to spit to erase the work but we
who were more cultured had a water bottle and a slate rag. I
remember as a small girl sharing my double desk with my
best friend. Agnes. Now Agnes had a perfume bottle for
water and slate rag attached with a string. Now this was at
the close of World War I and Agnes took the terrible Flu'. My
friend Agnes went to be with the angels. The family kindly
gave me her perfume bottle for my very own to use with my
slate rag.
For quick slop ups or for washing the linoleum we had a
wooden handle with a metal clamp on the bottom where
father's flannel shirt could be inserted and we had a rag mon.
Do you remember the 'Happy Gang' that sang over the Radio
for some 21 years just after dinner from Toronto? One of their
songs was 'Rag Mop'.
We shared the abundance of astrachan apples we've had
this year. The old tree trunk is lying on the ground but the
branches reach upward with their burden of red fruit. It
carries me back to the days when I sat in the tree at the back
of the old orchard munching apples and watching the trains
passing through.
I must finish wiping these apples with the rag, cut them up
and put them on to cook before 1 find them swimming in s.. t
tears.
VILLAGE SQUIRE/SEPTEMBER 1977, 23.