December 1996 Blazer

Boys will be boys 19th century style

A'E11' S OF UTAH'S PAST FROAI THE Utah State Historical Society Boys Will Be Boys 19th- Century Style h THLS DAY OF POOH- POOH CUSHIONS, birthday candles that do not blow out, and plastic ice cubes with flies laminated inside, did you ever wonder what kinds of pranks boys played on the unsuspecting in 19th- century Utah? A study of early newspapers leads one to conclude that lack of funds and a limited technological base required them to use more individual skill and ingenuity and fewer store- bought gags. A little streak of mischievousness also helped. For instance, some boys living in the west end of Provo had a favorite trick they liked to play on women or children who were home alone at night. On windy evenings they clandestinely fured a string to the top of a window casing and attached a small piece of lead to the bottom of the string. Propelled by the breeze, the lead wouId incessantly tap on the window pane. Hopefully, this mysterious noise would frighten the inhabitants of the house. Sometimes this trick was too successful. The Provo newspaper reported that a woman whose husband was away one blustery April night in 1889 was almost swed to death by such a prank. The editor warned the boys to desist from such activities and save themselves from a thrashing that would be given to them by a man on the watch for such activities. The pranksters were admonished to remember that " what is fun to some, is death to others." Other tricks used by pranksters to snare or trip people were also potentially dangerous. The local paper called the young hoodlum element of Provo's Fourth and Fifth wards a disgrace. These puckish youths quietly met near schools and other public buildings when meetings were in progress to prepare pitfalls on the streets and stretch strings across sidewalks. One September evening in 1892 a ladies dress reform meeting in the Central School was their target. Luckily, the Board of Education was meeting in another room of the school. The board adjourned before the ladies did, found the obstacles, and removed them. Such pranks were decried by the public at large. Even though churches played an important part in the community-- or possibly because they tried to play a strong role in shaping the behavior of youths- they were not immune from pranks. In April 1888 two young men secretly met near Provo's Third Ward on the evening of choir practice. Earlier in the day the two had evidently nailed fast the windows of the church. When the choir was comfortably ensconced inside, the boys then fastened the two handles of the double outside doors together with a rope. Needless to say, the choir experienced considerable difficulty in exiting the building. The boys were caught and fined five dollars each for their disconcerting actions. Another musical prank was, perhaps, more lighthearted and might have been enjoyed by a segment of the population. A traveling blind musician appeared on the streets of Provo one day and, doubtlessly hoping for contributions, proceeded to provide the town with hand- organ music. He had been in town several days when one evening three young wags hatched what they considered ( more) an amusing plan. They blacked their faces, donned goggles, snatched the unattended hand- organ, and went on a lark serenading the town. No editorial commented on the quality of their music. Many other gags inconvenienced the public at large. For several years a train ran from the bank comer in the center of town to the Provo Lake Resort on Utah Lake. Young scoundrels would sometimes wait in hiding near the tracks and hitch a free ride by jumping onto the rear car of the train. One balmy night in the late summer of 1892 the youths tried unsuccessfully to catch a ride on the train. In an effort to slow the train down or make it stop they set up a cry as though someone were hurt. A passenger pulled the emergency bell rope, but it failed to work. The train had traveled some distance up the track before the engineer was finally notified and stopped the train. Some riders went back with a lantern and the train was backed up to receive the wounded. When it turned out to be a joke, the uncomfortably crowded passengers on board were not amused. Conductor R. H. Dodd summed it all up in one word of frustration, " Damn!" Some pranks were boldly perpetrated in full daylight. One summer day in 1881 some older youths in Spanish Fork visited Dr. Shoebridge's drugstore. After helping themselves to ample portions of a very special " cough medicine," the boys left the shop in a state of semi- drunkenness. They tied a can to the tail of a dog belonging to a customer of a general store. Not satisfied with that bit of mischief, they pulled the connecting pin out of the reach pole of a wagon parked in the street. One can imagine the effects of that after the wagon had traveled a short distance down the road. Housewives looked with particular displeasure on one trick played by callous youths. After the women had worked over scrub boards and hot water all morning and hung their clothes out to dry, it must have been extremely disconcerting to see the clotheslines cut and the newly washed garments dragging in the dirt. The Provo paper theorized that if the culprits could be caught, a day or so of convict wood sawing might civilize them. In the 1880s the December meetings of the Salvation Army in Provo were subjected to a number of indignities. One memorable prank must have taken considerable thought and coordina-tion. Several well- rehearsed hoodlums attended the philanthropic organization's Monday night meeting. The prank began when the Army's captain was delivering a fervent sermon in which he cried out, " 0 Lord Jesus! Let the fire from heaven descend among this congregation." No sooner had he uttered these words than a string of firecrackers which had been attached to the coat tail of a young man in the audience was lighted. With the small explosives erupting in his wake, he darted from his seat and rushed up onto the stage, scattering confusion among the people. According to the Provo newspaper's account, " Women fainted, men yelled for police, and the hoodlums added to the scene by singing, " The Lamb, the Lamb, the Bleeding Lamb." By then the congregation had recovered enough to rush toward the outside door. When it was flung open, they were greeted by another surprise- a man dressed up as an Indian chief armed with a tomahawk. Complaints were sworn out against three of the ringleaders, who were lectured, fined, and released by Justice Booth. Keep these 19th- century pranks in mind the next time neighborhood youths toilet paper your home. It may make it easier to shrug and say, " Boys will be boys." Sources: Row Territorial Enquirer, 1879- 87; Utah Enquirer, 1888- 89; Daily Enquirer, 1889- 93. THEH ISTORBLYA ZERi s produced by the Utah State Historical Society and funded in part by a grant from the Utah Statehood Centennial Commission. For more information about the Historical Society telephone [phone] ( RC)