SANDUSKY COUNTY OHIO - BIO: HAWKINS, Tom [A Reminiscence] (published 1888) *************************************************************************** OHGENWEB NOTICE: All distribution rights to this electronic data are reserved by the submitter. Reproduction or re-presentation of copyrighted material will require the permission of the copyright owner. *************************************************************************** File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by LeaAnn leaann1@bellsouth.net February 16, 1999 *************************************************************************** Historical Collections of Ohio Henry Howe LL. D. Published 1904 copyright 1888 Sandusky County A Reminiscence With some Poetry from "The World's Wonder." When on my original visit to Fremont, I called on an elderly gentleman, Mr. Thomas L. Hawkins, who was the keeper of the magazine in Fort Meigs at the time of the siege. I found him at his home. It was in the gloom of the evening; no light in the room where he gave me his recollections of its events. My mind being in an unusually receptive condition, and having no use for my eyes in the darkness, my ears did double duty; so I remembered every word. The incidents I thus gathered will be found under the head of the history of the siege of Fort Meigs in Wood County. I was not then aware that Mr. Hawkins was a cabinet maker, a local preacher in the Methodist church, and, greater than all, a poet! This discovery was reserved for my last visit, and it came from Mr. Hayes' library, wherein is a copy of a small volume entitled, "The Poetic Miscellany and World's Wonders;" by Thomas L. Hawkins. Columbus: Scott and Bascom, printers, 1853. Our poet allowed his muse to help him in his business, and so he brought her to his aid in advertising his stock in trade, washboards and mops. These verses have the charm of old-time rusticity; carries back my mind to the days of the fathers, even before the arrival of the cook-stove. I remember when they were unknown, and the people largely farmers, there being but few cities. Often have I seen, when a youth, on wash-days, huge kettles hanging by cranes over great kitchen fires, filled with snow to melt for soft water; a dinner pot over the fire for a boiled dinner, the usual menu for wash-days; and while the women of the family were bending over the wash-tub, some young girl or boy would be standing by a pounding-barrel, pounding the clothes prior to the rubbing process. Pounding the clothes seemed to have been a common duty of the children of the family, who stood on stool to get the proper height. The pounder was a round block of wood, perhaps eight inches long and weighing perhaps five to ten pounds, into which was inserted a long handle, as in a broom, for a lifter, which both hands grasped during the pounding operation. With every washboard and mop sold by the poet was attached a card, with its poetic advertisement. The Washboard Take notice that I, Thomas Hawkins the younger, Than old Tom, my father, more active and stronger, In my journey through life, have found in my way, What some call ash Wednesday, men's wives call wash-day. However enduring the conjugal life, This day brings a cloud on the husband from wife; The dogs and the cats must stand out the way, And all about the house dread the coming wash-day. To make the day pleasant, I've long studied how, To bring back the smile on the dog and the cow; To cheer the poor husband, the clouds blow away, And smiles light the wife on that gloomy dark day. The machinist for this has exhausted his skill; In inventing machines poor woman to kill; No valued relief, I'll venture to say, Has loomed up as yet to dispel the dark day. The washboard alone must end all the strife, With a love-helping husband to cheer up the wife, To straighten his rib, and show well he may, With a few hearty rubs on that dark steamy day. We have boards of this kind for both husband and wife, We'll venture the price, 'twill end all the strife, Which are fluted both sides; then come, come away, And buy of our sunshine to dispel the dark day. The Mop The wife that scrubs without a mop Must bend her back full low, And on her knees mop up the slop And little comfort know. And he who loves a cleanly wife, And wants to keep her clean, Would make her smile and end all strife By buying this machine. And can you thus your wife displease, With her sweet smiles dispense, And make her scrub upon her knees, To save some twenty cents? (Which is the price of the mop) You hardened wretch! Pull out y'r cash, Untie your money-stockings, And don't neglect to buy this trash From your old friend, Tom Hawkins. ==== OHSANDUS Mailing List ====