E. Pimpernel, Editor
[Some unusual correspondence came my way recently, and I decided it
might be of interest to all and sundry. Personal remarks have been
edited out, but a fascinating journal of life in rural Maine is left
for the reader to peruse.]
Beaver Falls, Maine
Dear Cousin Mooooooo,
After our visit out to Arizona with you and our weekend at that there nudie-farm, Ma and Pa got to talking about how they might turn Uncle Eben's old fishing camp on Lake Passawhomper into a similar enterprise here in the State of Maine.
By the time we arrived home to Beaver Falls, Ma and Pa had decided that if a bunch of desert folks could make a go of her, why a couple of smart Yankees ought to have no trouble a-tall in making a tidy sum in the same line of work.
Pa went out to the lumber-lot out back and sawed him up some planks from them pine trees that's no good for the wood stove, and made him up the nicest batch of picket-fence Adirondack chairs and tables you ever seen.
Your Cousin, Mooooooose
Beaver Falls, Maine
Dear Cousin Mooooooo,
Me and Ma went up the camp and in two weeks we had her all spruced up and with 5 nice tight cabins to hold families and the old sugaring-house divided in two for dormitories for single folks. (Ma insisted on dividing it good and proper, for she's not one for hanky-panky in the woods, and she thought a mixed dormitory might just be too strict a test of the Nudist Code of Conduct, or whatever you call it).
Folks in Beaver Falls has been mighty interested in our little venture. Pa had no problem about a license for her - all the selectmen wanted was for us to fence off the spot near where them logging trucks come down. They was afraid them drivers might be gawking instead of steering, and you can't fool around peeking at Nudies when you got 8 tons of pulpwood on a 30 per-cent grade. So we strung some old canvas sailcloth over an old logging cable alongside the place the selectmen figured most of the gawking might turn into a pile-up, and they give her their blessing.
Ma's cousin Caleb, the one with the bulldozer, opened up a nice flat place for them net-ball games. Ma insisted he make room for a croquet-playing place. Ma always thought croquet was a nice refined game city people from Boston would like. Pa re-caulked all them rowboats Uncle Eben had and I painted them up nice by mixing all Pa's leftover paint into a barrel, so now we got us a fleet of boats in a sort of pinky-browny-greeny color.
Well things are getting mighty busy here so I'll write you again when me and Pa get through digging the privy holes and rigging up the piping for showers and sinks.
Your Cousin, Mooooooose
Beaver Falls, Maine
Dear Cousin Mooooooo,
By now you must be wondering how the project is coming along. Ma figured out a name and I spelled her out with birch logs on the roof of the old sugaring-house. We call her "The Down-East Naked People's Vacation Haven & Nature Camp". Me and Pa tried to get Ma to change Naked to Nudist, but no soap. Ma said they was naked in the Bible, so that was O.K. with her, but she got trouble with the word Nudist - said it reminded her of Communist, Fascist, and Socialist and she wouldn't change her mind a-tall.
We got us a group coming up from Boston in two weeks time. They seem like nice respectable folks in some sort of a club where you get naked indoors and play winter gymnasium sports, and so we got to get moving. Pa decided not to paint them chairs, so they'll look nice and New-Englandy as soon as they weather up a bit.
Well I got to help Ma rig a cookhouse out now. Her plan is to offer them good hearty food and plenty of it. We went up north to Madewaska and bought us a whole set-up from a bankrupted lumber camp. Got stoves, kitchen gear and a mess of tables and benches.
Your Cousin, Mooooooose
Beaver Falls, Maine
Dear Cousin Mooooooo,
Things got off to a good start till the Crooker brothers, all 6 of them, went spying on the naked persons and took off all their clothes so they could sneak in amongst them. Cousin Moo, them fool Crookers come right through them blueberry bushes where the yellow-jackets like to nest and got stung nearly to death. Them poor folks from Boston hear a bunch of screaming and hollering and pretty soon out come the Crooker boys all stung up with giant lumps all over them, so they thought they was being attacked by a bunch of nudist lepers and them Boston men naturally protected their womenfolk for all they was worth, and by the time Pa got them calmed down enough to explain, them Crooker Brothers had several more lumps each. Ma said it would be a lesson to keep others from trying the same thing.
Pa's pine-wood chairs weren't much of a success. We put them all out on the shore of the lake and I guess the sun just drew the pitch out something awful, cause a half dozen guests got their privates glued to them seats with pine pitch like you never seen. Pa used raw turpentine to melt them poor folks free, and while it worked right handy, it sort of warmed them people something fierce.
Your Cousin, Mooooooose
Beaver Falls, Maine
Dear Cousin Mooooooo,
To make up for the sticky chairs and burning privates, Ma promised a lobster dinner. Some of them Boston women was trying to help Ma hoist up a basket of lobsters when one of them one-pounders latched onto her faucet with the gripper claw. Wellsir, she started bellowing and lobsters went flying and dang if a two-pounder didnt save himself by latching onto one of those Boston men's wedding tackle. It turned as purple as a beet and looked like it was going to blow its top before Ma give up and broke both claws off.
Your Cousin, Mooooooose
Beaver Falls, Maine
Dear Cousin Mooooooo,
Now i haven't mentioned and you haven't asked if me and Ma and Pa is also nude. Wellsir, we are! Ma said it was the way they done it at your place, and while we was a bit shy at first, we're regular professional nudists now, except Ma won't give up her apron in the kitchen. She says bacon-fat and being naked just don't mix. We even got the town folks joining in. First come six naked selectmen to cut the ribbon when them Boston folks showed up. You remember we got Big Peter Boone and Little Peter Maxwell on the board? Ma says to tell you it's going to be Big Peter Maxwell and Little Peter Boone from now on. Ma always did call a spade a spade.
Even the delivery driver for the Down East Supermarket stopped to get naked for a spell when he delivered them lobsters. Seems half the folks in Beaver Falls have thought up a reason to show up, get naked and chat with the city people from Boston. Ma and Pa figured we was sitting on a gold mine all these years and didn't know it.
Your Cousin, Mooooooose
Beaver Falls, Maine
Dear Cousin Mooooooo,
Ma remembered where when we was visiting your place that "no one ever gets one of them", but it seems the local folks aren't immune to what Pa calls "Old Adam's Itch", and quite a few managed to rear up like serpents in the Garden of Eden, so Ma took charge with a number 8 solid maple spoon. One good whack and the serpent backs right down. They've taken to calling Ma "The Spoon Woman", but that don't bother her none. She says someone has to keep things proper, and she's taken to carrying a Number 8 for the whoppers and a Number 5 for the minnows. She was sure you'd approve.
Your Cousin, Mooooooose
Beaver Falls, Maine
Dear Cousin Mooooooo,
Pa and Me was going to take a ride out to Bar Harbor and collect us a bag full of clam shells to paint up and sell as ash trays for a souvenir, but Ma had another idea. Seems she recollected you explaining a picture of some poor girl wearing her little sister's dungarees and telling how they called the place where she was bound-up a ‘Camel Toe', and how rich young women liked the look of that effect. Up here in Maine we call that a ‘Moose Knuckle'. Wellsir, Ma thought me and Pa could whittle up some Moose Knuckles out of soft pine - a sort of fashion accessory for them fancy Boston Women for when they got their clothes on. Well we did, and Cousin Nora agreed to test one out. Let me warn you, Cousin Mooooooo, NEVER make a Moose Knuckle out of soft pine. It took Ma nearly three hours with her tweezers pulling splinters out of poor Cousin Nora's nether regions. Ma said she was reminded of a dog that tried to take a bite out of a porcupine. So me and Pa passed the time painting clamshells. This winter we'll try out Moose Knuckles on some nice smooth-grain maple.
Your Cousin, Mooooooose