The Santa Claus wars aren’t anything new.

An editorial in the January 1898 issue of The Nickell is “grieved to find itself in opposition to certain learned and eminent divines of the Presbyterian church in the matter of the existence of Santa Claus.”

Apparently, those divines felt the concept of Santa was bad for children, because “it distracts their attention from the sacred character of Christmas Day.”

Check out the complete editorial, in which the editorial board advises, “do not try to belittle a saint whose ministrations give joy.” (more…)

Advertising used to be a lot more refined—even as it was selling snake oil—as can be seen from this final dip into the January 1898 issue of The Nickell.

Captured in an elegant drawing reminiscent of Charles Dana Gibson, two upper-class diners ever-so-delicately discuss the lady’s indigestion, which it seems can only be solved by swallowing a Ripans Tabule and waiting 10 minutes.

But what’s Ripans? And what the heck is a Tabule? (more…)

How much did we love bicycles in 1898?

So much so that the January 1898 issue of The Nickell was packed with ads for bikes and biking accessories, such as the Columbia Chainless Bicycle (“totally unaffected by mud, dust, rain, or sleet”), the “Serrate Tread” Tire (if your dealer doesn’t have the new ’98 model, “tell him he’s not up to date), and The Wheelmen’s Gazette (“an illustrated monthly magazine devoted to the grandest, healthiest, most manly sport in the world—cycling”).

But what really proved to me that bicycling wasn’t just a hobby in those days, but a craze, was the poem “Ye Ballad of Ye Mermaiden,” in which a mermaid was spellbound … by a cyclist.

Or the wheelman’s “wondrous shell on which you travel so fast and well,” anyway.

I assume “she scorches beneath the sea” in the poem’s final line merely meant she was going very fast. But if you’ve got a better handle on the slang of the late 19th century, let me know!

So as I continued flipping through the January 1989 issue of The Nickell, a tiny ad, no more than 1/16 of a page in size, caught my eye. It was mixed in with other similarly small ads for things such as skate sharpeners and cancer cures, only this one, instead of being quaint, was puzzling.

It offered to sell readers a “bold, brave book” about the “ethics of marriage,” but as I looked more closely, I wondered whether the fine print was a coded message for information about contraception.

After all, what else could have been meant by the term “controlled maternity”? (more…)

I was flipping through the January 1898 issue of The Nickell—which, as you know, is the kind of thing I love to do, because it’s the closest to a time machine I’m going to get—

—when I spotted a poignant advertisement filled with nostalgia not just for the late 19th century—but for the early 19th century as well. (more…)