Historic Bubble-Gum-Bubble-Blowing Contest Held in Botswana
Also, Another Letter to a Gilded Age Millionaire
Botswana’s national motto is Pula [pool-uh], which means, simply, rain. Pula is also the traditional greeting, the word for offering a toast, and the name of the country’s currency. So rain is a big deal in Botswana. What’s not a big deal is bubble-gum-bubble-blowing contests [what a segue!]. So the one that Allyson and I hosted earlier this month may have been the first in the history of Botswana. Children and adults from the embassy community took part.



I measured the bubbles with the bubble-gum-bubble-measuring calipers that my dad made me when I was ten. (I was inspired by the 1975 Joe Garagiola Bazooka Big League Bubble Gum-Blowing Championship.) In case your interested, here are the final results (bearing in mind, of course, that we did not adhere strictly to the rules and regulations of the International Bubble Gum Blowing Federation):
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I’ve been transcribing more letters to the Gilded Age millionaire Alexander T. Stewart, who received hundreds of requests for financial assistance (and answered none). I’m considering including a few in the book as an appendix. They do provide an interesting insight into the lives of the unrich at the time. This one comes from a 17-year-old Roman Catholic seminarian named Daniel Lyons. It seems he later wrote a book about papal infallibility, but what ultimately came of him and his family I have been unable to determine.
Cincinnati, Mt. St. Mary’s, May 20th 1870
Kind Sir,
You, no doubt, receive many petitions from persons who, by some means or other, have been reduced to a state of poverty. Could you not, nevertheless, listen for a few moments to my humble petition? It is made from a motive of filial affection for my father and mother, and of brotherly love for my younger brothers and sisters. My father has been blind for thirteen years, and, although not more than forty years old, is, at present fast declining under the weight of sorrows. When he became blind, his friends advised him to go to the blind asylum, and give his children to the charge of others. This he refused saying that as long as he lived he would have the care of his own children.
With this determination, he set himself to learn the broom trade, which he has followed ever since. By careful industry, he soon gathered enough money, he thought, to buy a property, in order that he might leave us his children something after his death. He joined a Mutual Benefit Association, which now turns out to be a grand humbug, and he is left destitute of any more assistance, not even receiving the amount which he invested at first. Continual failures in the broom business led him to look for assistance in this society, but instead of bettering his condition it has made it still worse. The property will be sold next month at Sheriff’s Sale unless he can manage to clear the debt of $3500 dollars [sic] at present [resting?] on it. If this be done, my three younger brothers and two younger sisters will be cast on the mercy of [interested?] friends and unkind relatives. I am the oldest of the family, and I have been supported at college by a kind gentleman. I am studying for the ministry and am not yet eighteen years of age. I often hear from my absent parents, and they have communicated to me what I know [sic] disclose to you, hoping that, in your charity, you would contribute to alleviate the sufferings of my father’s care-worn heart, and the anxiety of my loving mother, and avert the destruction, which is so often the lot of children who in their younger days are deprived of their parents’ protection.
Think not, Kind Sir, that I am a sharper. I would go to New York, and lay my petition before you, if my circumstances permitted it. I am studying at Mount Saint Mary’s College near Cincinnati. Yours truly,
Daniel Lyons.
N.B. All the recompense I can promise you is that you will always be remembered with feelings of gratitude by a poor family. We will never forget you in our prayers.
If you will render us any assistance please direct [it] to Daniel Lyons, Mount St. Mary’s near Cincinnati.



