Mutt & Jeff by Bud Fisher for April 06, 2013

  1. Right here
    Sherlock Watson  over 11 years ago

    And to make matters worse, Mutt’s still married to a nag.

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  2. Sc00057a6901
    EstrelitaH  over 11 years ago

    ice trucks still being driven by horses. Could actually be as late as the late 40s. Our family used ice in an ice box up until the late 40s, and our ice man made his deliveries in a horse-drawn wagon. Unfortunately for him, about the time that he finally broke down and bought a truck, electricity was becoming available in our area, through the Rural Electrification Association, and people began to get their houses wired for electricity, began buying those expensive, new-fangled refrigerators!

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    derry1  over 11 years ago

    Out of the horse’s mouth…

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    tuslog64  over 11 years ago

    Capitilism at its best!

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    tuslog64  over 11 years ago

    When telephone lines used to be strung, especially over rough terrain, mules would carry the spools and play out the wire. They would soon learn how many poles to pass before going over to the other side in order to correctly transpose the wires.(transposing, ie outside wire/inside wire on the crossarm switching sides was done to cancel interference, such as in a nearby power line or even adjacent telephone lines. The good old days, most lines now are underground)

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    alleyoops Premium Member over 11 years ago

    @SeaFox10That is true. Our next door neighbors still had an ice box in the late ‘40s, and the iceman’s horse always knew where to stop. He could have run the route without the iceman.

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  7. Jolie album
    brklnbern  over 11 years ago

    Wonder if Jeff’s middle name is Wilbur?

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  8. Sylvester012a
    pbuckland Premium Member over 11 years ago

    In our neighbourhood, the icemen were among the first to switch from horses to trucks. Milk, bread, the fish vendor, and the rag man were still using horses into the early to mid fifties. Our milkman had a team of horses if we got up early enough to see him. In those days you left the empties out on the porch with the money in them, and nobody touched it. My dad was a breadman, and we would sometimes get to spend the day helping him. The horse knew the route better than he did, and its pace quickened gradually during the day until he was into a full trot on the way back to the barns.

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