On rare occasions, the Minneapolis Tribune of the early 1900s peeled off its topcoat, loosened its tie and offered readers Onion-esque tales like this. Read it in the voice of one my purported former babysitters, Garrison Keillor, for the full effect.
THE VICTIM OF SAD ACCIDENT
Man Pours Cream in Sleeve, Instead of Coffee.
He was a big man with a desperado moustache and a weak chin. His napkin was tucked under his collar and he read a newspaper while the waitress brought him breakfast.
Without raising his eyes from the paper, he grabbed the small pitcher of cream by the circumference, in a manner that would not have been permitted at his home table, and inserted it toward him and under his palm to connect with his coffee. The cream, obeying gravity laws, ran gaily down his arm inside his sleeve.
The waitress tittered. The big man grew fiery red and went out hastily, and he didn’t come back.
More from Star Tribune
More From Yesterday's News
Minnesota issued its first driver's license in 1934. A single 25-cent fee covered licenses for every member of a household. You didn't have to prove you were a good — or apparently even sighted — driver: No test was required. A Mr. Inky Campbell of Minneapolis called attention to the situation in this persuasive letter to the editor of the Star. Within two years, Minnesota began testing prospective drivers. But vision was not part of the renewal process until 1972.
The story of one infant left on the counter of a confectionery shop on Lyndale Avenue S. in 1909 resonated more than most "foundling" stories.
The young woman who hatched the insurance idea described in the Minneapolis Tribune story below appears to have been an intelligent person with a broad range of interests. So how did she come up with this cockamamie idea?
The guidance offered in early horoscopes published in the Minneapolis Tribune sounds very familiar: "Women should be exceedingly cautious in all love affairs, as they are likely to be easily deceived and greatly disappointed."
Miss Louisa M. Alcott died this morning. Coming so soon after the death of her father, the suddenly announced death of Louisa M. Alcott brings a double sorrow. For a long time Miss Alcott has been ill, suffering from nervous prostration. Last autumn she appeared to be improving and went to the highlands to reside with Dr. Rhoda A. Lawrence. While there she drove into town to visit her father, Thursday, the 1st, and caught a cold, which on Saturday settled on the based of the brain and developed spinal meningitis. She died at the highlands early this morning. Miss Alcott was born on an anniversary of her father's birthday, and it is singular that she should have followed him so soon to the grave.