|Click on the image to feed the plants.|
This young lady seems to be feeding breadcrumbs to the reeds. Perhaps there’s something out of sight that she’s feeding—like a duck or a hybrid corn monster. Thankfully for her, the pond at which she stands appears to be lined with concrete. Otherwise, she’s standing so close that she’s bound to topple in an spoil the hat she’s made out of those little ruffled pants one puts on the ends of lamb chop bones (not the puppet, she has no bones). She holds a red and yellow basket which presumably contains her supply of nourishing breadcrumbs.
Now, I ask you—is feeding a plant breadcrumbs encouraging cannibalism? Wheat and all that.
So, what’s this trade card advertising? Hats? Baskets? Crumbs? Reeds? Concrete Pond Edging?
To be fair, I don’t think that this card was designed to sell stoves. It’s a stock card over which “Glenwood Stoves” has been printed. Still, one must wonder why this card was selected.
“Say, Virgil,” says the manager of Glenwood Stoves to Virgil. “We ought to have some of those nice cards printed. You know—the ones the ladies keep in albums.”
“Sure,” Virgil replies.
“Maybe we can get a nice pretty picture on it. Maybe a stove or a lady bakin’, or a nice chicken supper with those fine, little potatoes and….”
“Nope.” Virgil shakes his head.
“Well, then, what would you suggest?”
Virgil thinks for a moment. “Girl.”
“Say, Virgil, that’s a capital idea. The cards with pretty girls on ‘em go really fast. Maybe one of those French girls in a pretty dress?”
“Nope.” Virgil replies. “A little girl.”
“I like those cards with children on ‘em. All cute and rosy cheeked, free of scrofula. Maybe she’s playing with her dolls. Or having a pretend tea?”
“Nope.” Virgil scowls. “She’ll be feeding reeds from a basket of scraps.”
“That’s what it’ll be, Clem.”
“But, it’s my name on the card. C.W. Philbrick.”
“Clem, you don’t know a thing about anything. You call the place “Glenwood Stoves,’ but that’s not even what you sell. You sell Elmwood Stoves. You listen to me, and it’ll be a peach.” Virgil sighs.
“You don’t even work here, Virgil.”
“Nonetheless, it’s the girl feeding the reeds or nothing.”
“It’s nothing, then.”
“I’ll abandon your sister, Clem. So help me God…”
And, that’s how it went. So, let’s look at the back.
North Hampton, N.H.