Depression & Flour Sack Underwear

Depression & Flour Sack Underwear
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When I was a maiden fair
Mamma made our underwear;
With many kids and Dad's poor pay,
We had no fancy lingerie;
Monograms and fancy stitches
Did not adorn our Sunday britches.
Panty waist that stood the test
Had gold Medal on my breast;
No lace or ruffles to enhance
Just "Bloomington" on my pants.
One pair of panties beat them all,
For I had a scene I still recall--
Harvesters were gleaning wheat
Right across my little seat.
Rougher than a grizzly bear,
Was my flour sack underwear.
Plain, not fancy, and two feet wide
And tougher than a Hippo's hide.
All thru depression each Jill and Jack,
Wore the sturdy garb of sack.
Waste not, want not, we soon learned
that a penny saved is a penny earned.
There were curtains and tea towels too,
And that is just to name a few;
But the best beyond  compare
Was my flour sack underwear.,

                     - author unknown

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      O  O  o  o
   O    ____  ____.
   Y__._|[]|_/    |  Royce (Sam) Sampson
  {|__|_|__|______|  Clinton, Iowa
  //ooo==OO-oo--oo   roy...@SAMPSON.WIN.NET