Fragments of Life: Printed Ephemera in Louisiana
Florence M. Jumonville

The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. "Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?" he asked.

"Begin at the beginning," the King said, gravely, "and go on till you come to the end: then stop."

Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland¹

Of ephemeral printing in Louisiana, there was a beginning, but there is no end. The beginning, unrecorded and probably not remarked upon at the time, occurred during the colonial period. In 1764 Denis Braud, a New Orleans merchant to whom Louis XV of France had granted exclusive printing, publishing, and bookselling privileges in Louisiana, imported the province’s first printing equipment. It was the earliest press established beyond the English colonies in the present United States. For several years before it arrived, Braud used an engraved plate to print treasury bills, none of which survive. This constitutes probably the inception of printed ephemera in Louisiana. The earliest extant examples are broadsides that published governors’ proclamations and other official announcements.² Circulated about New Orleans and the outposts for the citizenry to read, and now an excellent research source, they have been called "the free history books of the streets."³

Braud and his colonial successors were permitted to print only what government officials authorized; comparable regulations inhibited other endeavors. In 1803 the Louisiana Purchase ended these restrictions, and enterprising Americans, attracted by the prospect of opportunity, swarmed into Louisiana. The population, further augmented by immigrants from Santo Domingo and other countries, skyrocketed. This influx contributed to the area’s swift cultural and economic growth and resulted in political conflicts between the old inhabitants and the newcomers. These factors, combined with the establishment of a new government that would generate considerable business, sparked an increase in the quantity of work available to local printers, precisely when more men were pursuing such employment⁴ A concomitant development was the proliferation of printed ephemera.

Life’s Milestones

Birth, graduation, marriage, and death are significant episodes in a person’s life. If the first ephemera an individual acquires are associated with his birth, the next probably result from his education. Teachers distribute report cards and printed commendations for scholarship, good behavior, and regular attendance. Many schools issue student and faculty handbooks, graduation announcements and invitations, calendars, schedules, and annual catalogues (see Figure1). These are of research interest for their images of the campus, lists of instructors and pupils, synopses of the curriculum, and descriptions of long-forgotten aspects of student life. Catalogue of Louisiana College, for example, stated in 1855, "Until a proper bathing-house shall be provided, students bathe in the river." Written permission from parents or guardians was required, and when baths were in progress a boat stood by "...with oarsmen to afford assistance as occasion may require."⁵

Relatives and friends often are requested to attend the ceremonies commemorating life’s milestones–baptisms, commencement exercises, weddings, funerals. Of invitations to these rituals, the first known to have been printed in Louisiana were those associated with burial; the Widow Roche, a New Orleans printer, advertised "funeral tickets" as early as 1810.⁶ In England, such items date from the seventeenth century midrange from simple cards to masterpieces of engraving that depict the symbols of death: skeletons, mourners bearing a coffin, a winged hourglass, and others. Funeralia created in the United States during die Victorian period endures in abundance, partly because it was produced in quantity and partly because, unlike most types of ephemera, it encompassed keepsakes, such as memorial cards.⁷

Examples of funeral invitations from throughout Louisiana survive, some in the English language and others in French, from the nineteenth century almost to the present day. Most were posted about town, which accounts far rips at the top of existing copies. Typically, they are bordered in black; bear a printer’s ornament depicting a cross, a mourner beside a tomb, or some similar device; feature the word DIED or DECEDEE and the name of the decedent in large, heavy type; and provide the time and location of the funeral (see Figure 2). To announce the burials of persons whose estates could not afford these personalized announcements, stationers stocked a standard version, printed with blank spaces in which a survivor or the undertaker wrote the particulars.

For slaves during the antebellum period, sale to new owners was, tragically, among life’s turning points. Broadsides, like one advertising the auction of property of the late Charles S. Lee of Concordia Parish, serve as reminders of the atrocity of slavery. After describing various tracts of land, livestock, and farming equipment, the broadside listed 130 slaves, giving their names and ages; numerous children, some not yet a year old, were among them. The advertisement added, "The Negroes are all acclimated and very likely, having been selected by Mr. Lee with the greatest care."⁸

Another milestone, this one longed-for, was manumission, and memorials of freedom also survive. When federal soldiers occupied New Orleans on May 1, 1862, they brought with them army field presses to print general orders to the troops. Most of these recorded courts-martial, released new appointments, and announced directives, but General Orders No. 12 of the Department of the Gulf, issued on January 29, 1863, promulgated Abraham Lincoln’s proclamation of emancipation and included a reprint of the proclamation. It is probably the only separate printing of that pronouncement in the wartime South.⁹

Dining

Just as funeral invitations are appropriately solemn, so do other invitations, by their typography and ornamentation, recall something of the ambience of the event. In the mid-nineteenth century, embossing and other advances in printing technology engendered a variety of exquisite papers that were ideally suited for invitations to social events. Lace paper, created accidentally in 1834 as the result of extreme embossing that penetrated the paper, was imported from Britain in the laze 1840s; American manufacturers soon went into business in the Northeast.¹⁰ The job office of the New Orleans Picayune offered an assortment of decorative styles, to which the printer added information pertaining to a specific gathering. In 1853, for example, an invitation to a "fancy and dress soiree" at the St Charles Hotel in New Orleans was overprinted in blue and gold on paper with a lace border.

Menus–from restaurants, hotels, trains, and steamboats–present the history of food in a microcosm, offering insight into society’s economic and social classes as well as trends in food service and dietary habits. During the nineteenth century, standard bills of fare at most restaurants were unadorned and usually were discarded at closing time. Ornate menus, some sturdy enough to withstand handling, listed even daily meals at steamboat and hotel restaurants. They often omitted prices because these establishments operated on the American plan. This arrangement, derived from the English colonial practice of lodgers partaking of whatever fare the innkeeper and his family ate, meant that guests received room and meals for a flat rate.¹¹

Especially in small towns, the best eateries often were those maintained by hotels, and they prided themselves on the variety, quality, and abundance of edibles available in their dining rooms. At special feasts, food was provided in even greater quantity, giving rise to the still-popular banquet. Hotels repeatedly hosted meals sponsored by groups of persons with similar interests, political affiliations, ethnic or geographic origins, or jobs. Ornamented paper served well for the keepsake menus hotels frequently issued on major holidays and for souvenir menus of dinners honoring such dignitaries as Louisiana governor P.O. Hebert (see Figure 3). In 1847 a testimonial for Zachary Taylor, hero of the Mexican War, featured a menu printed on satin.¹²

Travel

A trip, which is of temporary duration, naturally engenders a variety of ephemera. Promotional materials enticed the vacationer with such offers as Three Grand Excursions to New Orleans, during the Period of the World’s Industrial and Cotton Centennial Exposition. This thirty-two-page pamphlet invited tourists to take one of three trips sponsored by W. Raymond and I. A. Whitcomb of Boston in early 1885. It described, in addition to New Orleans and the Exposition, numerous Louisiana towns along the Mississippi River.

Other ephemera lured the permanent settler. An early example is a German-language broadside, its title translated as "Geographical Description of the Province Louisiana in Canada from the St. Lawrence River to the Mouth of the Mississippi River and a short report of the now flourishing stock trade." Written anonymously and published at Leipzig in 1719, it invited German investors to encourage trade in and colonization of Louisiana.¹³ More recent efforts to promote settlement occurred in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and inspired such pamphlets as Come to Claiborne Parish, published about 1904 by the Claiborne Parish Immigration Association in Homer, and St. Bernard Parish, Louisiana, Its Natural Resources and Advantages, issued two years later by the St Bernard Parish Immigration League.

Tickets, itineraries, and timetables are among printed necessities associated with transport by land, water, and air. In Louisiana, river travel played a major role in transportation–and in the creation of printed ephemera. In 1871, for example, a ticket for cabin passage on the Lizzie Hopkins, a sternwheel packet that regularly plied the waters between New Orleans and the Upper Coast with occasional trips to Shreveport, was printed on the back cover of a thirty-two-page Steamboat Ticket Advertiser, or Strangers’ Pocket Guide. Lists of banks, churches, and places of interest in New Orleans supplemented a table of distances, schedules of hack and cab rates, and advertising for hotels, dentists, a "Ladies’ Hair Store," and other businesses. Blanks provided space for the passenger’s name and his assigned cabin and berth.

Nineteenth-century "ribbon maps," meant to be used by steamboat captains and other travelers on the Mississippi River, were printed in several panels that were intended to be cut apart and pasted to each other end to end, then rolled up and kept in one’s pocket, to be uncoiled as the vessel navigated the river. Some maps followed the Mississippi from northern Louisiana to its mouth, while others covered a smaller area in greater detail, naming every planter who owned abutting property. Because the river constantly changed course and these maps were waiting tools, new ones rapidly replaced older versions, and few survive today.

Untold thousands of visitors to Louisiana in the past hundred or so years have dispatched postcards to friends back home. Sending postcards began in Austria in 1869; those with pictures emerged the next year in France and spread throughout Europe. In the United States they flourished especially after the appearance of a set of souvenir cards from the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893. A decrease in the postage rate in l898 gave new impetus to the practice of mailing postcards, and between 1904 and 1914, collecting them was one of the world’s most popular hobbies. They fell from favor when World War I began, to be supplanted by greeting cards. Postcards often are absent from lists of ephemera because they comprise a collecting specialty known as "deltiology," from Greek words meaning "small picture" and "knowledge."¹⁴

Postcards depicting Louisiana locales became available in the late 1890s. Some specimens provide the earliest color images of the Pelican State’s sites and structures or the only surviving illustration of a building or an event. All too rarely does a typeset date appear, but postcards that actually passed through the mail (as opposed to being saved as souvenirs) often bear messages dated in manuscript or readable postmarks that permit an estimate of their age.

Friendship and Romance

The earliest extant Louisiana ephemera related to a social event is an invitation issued in 1803 by Pierre Clement de Laussat, the prefect who represented France at the retrocession of Louisiana to that nation from Spain and then at the province’s transfer to the United States, to a soiree honoring Spanish former governor Casa-Calvo. It would be the first of many invitations distributed by individuals, local and state governments, and various organizations. Heralding events as long ago as Laussat’s gala and as recent as yesterday, these invitations summoned prospective guests to all manner of balls, dinners, concerts, lectures, civic events, fund-raisers, and ceremonies. Days or decades later, they record the occasion and suggest something of its distinct character.

Other ephemera associated with social events includes dance programs. Upon this appurtenance of the formal ballroom, ladies listed their dancing partners. Usually a folded card, small enough to fit into an evening bag, the program was printed on the inside with the sequence of waltzes, schottisches, polkas, and other popular dances the orchestra would play, with blank spaces wherein the lady wrote her partner’s name. Some dance cards came complete with a pencil, attached by means of a tasseled cord. Most were stock designs, overprinted, if the customer wished, with details of a particular occasion; only very special balls warranted unique designs (see Figure 4).¹⁵

As the nineteenth century progressed, new means of transportation, from steam engines to riverboats to bicycles, rendered the citizenry more mobile than ever before. With wider circle of acquaintances, Americans formed many friendships aid often exchanged tokens of esteem with their comrades, some of whom now were far away. Clasped hands, the sign of friendship, appeared on notepaper and in the designs of visiting cards, greeting cards, and wedding rings. Lace paper lent itself especially well to the creation of dainty valentines; and as a result of their popularity, its use spread to Christmas cards and those marking other holidays. While the production of such salutations flourished in other parts of the nation, in the 1870s New Orleans lithographer Daniel Anton Buechner designed such greetings as New Year’s cards that depicted celebrating frogs.¹⁶

American-made greeting cards appeared in 1874 when Louis Prang, a German-born lithographer working in Boston, added them to his repertoire. Many of these greetings were created by means of chromolithography, or color printing, a process that began to be used in America in 1840 and soared to popularity for commercial purposes some twenty years later. Called "the democratic art" because it made art, or a close approximation of it, available to the masses, chromolithography brought to printing a depth, a luminescence, and a brilliance of color it had never known before and will not experience again. By the end of the nineteenth century, the introduction of a less labor-intensive four-color photomechanical printing process, combined with the influence of widely circulated magazines and mass advertising, started the decline of chromolithography; within three decades it had vanished. Dazzling chromos, however, survive.¹⁷

An important sideline of the Victorian chromolithographer’s work was the production of "scraps" or die-cuts. Produced first in Germany, where they were called oblaten or glanzbilder ("wafers" or "gloss pictures"), scraps spread to Britain and the United States and in the 1860s and 1870s enjoyed astonishing popularity. Created through a process that combined chromo printing, die-cutting, and embossed relief, brilliantly colored scraps depicted flowers, vehicles, persons (most often beautiful women or cherubic children), birds, animals, religious subjects, and holiday themes. Girls and women applied them in profusion to fire screens, gift boxes, chairs, glass jars, and other objects, and carefully pasted them into albums.¹⁸

Another use for scraps was trimming greeting cards. In England, the custom of sending valentines dates from the times of Chaucer and of Shakespeare. Its heyday dawned in 1840 when the advent of the Uniform Penny Past enabled persons from all classes of society to exchange messages at reasonable cost. There and in the United States, these expressions of devotion grew increasingly elaborate as the century advanced, sometimes including tissue-paper honeycombs in rich pinks, aquas, and other pastels (not until the 1920s was red universally accepted as the color of Valentine’s Day). "Hidden name" visiting cards, which concealed the caller’s name beneath a decorative chromolithographed flap (see Figure 5), were, however, an American innovation. Like valentines, an important characteristic of which was secrecy, these cards expressed an emotional message–usually a declaration of affection, a wish for the recipient’s happiness, or a plea for kind thoughts–in diminutive type nestled among birds and flowers.¹⁹

Entertainment

Theater and music thrived in New Orleans as early as the 1700s. Song sheets– lyrics of songs printed without musical notation, to be sung by persons already familiar with the airs–were available in New Orleans by 1798, when copies of a piece entitled ‘La Danse Française" sold for one escalin (12 1/2 cents). In an era when books were for clergymen, scholars, and gentlemen with private libraries, song-sheets appealed to the masses. A continuance of the folk tradition of minstrelsy, they descended from broadside ballads that flourished in England from the sixteenth century to the end of the nineteenth. In Louisiana, song-sheets experienced perhaps their greatest popularity in the 1860s, when the fervor engendered by the Civil War (1861-1865) inspired the publication of such Confederate favorites as "Hurrah for the South!" and "Volunteer Mess Song."²⁰

During the antebellum period, New Orleanians and planters stopping in the city with their families could enjoy plays at the American Theater, opera at the St. Charles and the Theatre d’Orleans, and concerts by local artists or by visiting luminaries like Jenny Lind; inhabitants of even the smaller communities attended performances by amateur groups, touring companies, and, in river towns, showboat troupes.²¹ All forms of public entertainment–theater, opera, concerts, circuses, fireworks displays–share a common need for an audience. During the colonial period, the town crier may have proclaimed the current program as he made his rounds; but, as competition grew and the citizenry’s level of literacy rose, managers relied increasingly on the printed advertisements.²² That such advertisements were used in New Orleans during the eighteenth century is evidenced by a printed announcement of performances on September 3, 1799, of Nicolas Dalayrac’s opera Renaud d’Ast and a ballet by Jean-Baptiste Francisquy.²³

Typographic posters, or broadsides, used typefaces of various sizes and degrees of ornamentation to identify the theater and to announce its current and coming attractions, their casts (actors’ names always preceding those of actresses), show dates and times, and the price of admission (see Figure 6). Later examples sometimes included a rough portrait of the star or a scene from the production. Printed on low-quality paper, they were nailed or pasted, often illegally, on fences, walls, and every other available surface. In other parts of the country, typographic posters measured about 21 by 14 inches, or one-fourth of a 42- by 28-inch "sheet," the largest size most presses of the era could accommodate.²⁴ Examples found in Louisiana, however, more often were half as wide, approximating the dimensions of one-eighth sheet.

Until the late nineteenth century these long, narrow broadsides, and before them their shorter precursors, doubled as programs. This had been customary in England, where American theater has its roots, by the 1670s. The oldest extant American specimen, from a New York performance of The Orphan in 1750, endures because it was pasted on the back of a mirror. Eventually these broadsides were supplanted on walls and fences by colorful posters of the kind introduced in the 1870s to promote circuses, and in theatergoers’ hands by smaller, booklet-like programs.²⁵

While the better theaters issued their own playbills, lesser establishments added pertinent data to stock designs. Advertising often threatened to overwhelm the pithy sections about the play and performers, but it financed the printing and enabled the management to distribute programs without charge. The Black Crook, which opened in New York in 1866 and played there for sixteen months, set a precedent by issuing special souvenir programs. Subsequent mementos, often printed on satin or silk, commemorated various shows’ landmark performances. In the beginning, they were complimentary. Producers soon realized that fans would pay for them and made eye-catching programs available at all performances, imposing a small charge which has grown larger as years have passed.²⁶ When playwright Joshua Logan, who had grown up in Mansfield, brought his Kind Sir to the Civic Theatre in New Orleans for its world premiere in 1953, first-nighters received an attractive souvenir playbill printed on bright pink satin.

With the twentieth century came another form of public entertainment: motion pictures. Movies gave rise to a new panoply of printed ephemera, including typographic and pictorial posters, lobby cards, handbills, and programs, small specimens distributed free and more elaborate ones that involved a charge. First-run engagements of major productions like A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which played at the New Orleans Orpheum in January 1936, featured sturdy complimentary programs that noted the cast and information about the story and background music. Other innovations–phonograph, radio, and later television– brought entertainment into the home. They generated yet another range of ephemera operating instructions, catalogues, and advertising (see Figure 7). Today the use of these devices, and of other household appliances, has become so commonplace that one forgets how recently they were novelties and how dramatic has been their impact on the use of leisure time–and on the proliferation of ephemera.²⁷

In Conclusion

Lottery tickets, calendars, baseball scorecards, church bulletins, lawyers’ briefs–the multiplicity of ephemera that has been created is phenomenal and ever growing. Through the centuries, its production has depended upon advances in printing technology. Recent developments in desk-top publishing, notably the advent of the laser printer, have made writers, editors, and advertisers of anyone with the proper equipment and have given rise to instant ephemera, created in one’s home or office. While much of it promptly, deservedly, lands in the wastebasket, other specimens will survive as souvenirs of the twentieth century, constantly adding to the variety of printed ephemera available to future generations of collectors long after the now-modern printing equipment that produced them has become obsolete. Locating ephemera of the past is a matter of finding the right attic. Identifying ephemera of the present is perhaps more difficult because these materials surround us as unremarkable fragments of everyday life. Whatever form ephemeral printing takes in the future, it will persevere wherever there are presses.

References

¹ Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (London: Macmillan, 1866), 182.

² Florence M. Jumonville, Bibliography of New Orleans Imprints, 1764-1864 (New Orleans: Historic New Orleans Collection, 1989), xix. Elsewhere, the oldest example of printed ephemera was an indulgence issued by the Roman Catholic Church in 1454.

John Lewis, Printed Ephemera: The Changing Uses of Type and Letterforms in

English and American Printing (Ipswich, Suffolk, Eng.: W. S. Cowell, 1962), [24].

³ Leslie Shepard, The History of Street Literature: The Story of Broadside Ballads, Chapbooks, Proclamations, News-Sheets, Election Bills, Tracts, Pamphlets, Cocks, Catchpennies, and Other Ephemera (Newton Abbot, Devon, Eng.: David & Charles, 1973), 14. See Faye Phillips, "I Like Ike’: Collecting Political Ephemera," in this issue.

⁴ Jumonville, New Orleans Imprints, xxv-xxvi.

⁵ Catalogue of Louisiana College (Parish of St. James, LA: (The College], 1855), 19-

20. This and most other Louisiana ephemera described herein are available at the Historic New Orleans Collection.

⁶ Le Courrier de la Louisiane, Sept. 17, 1810, p.3.

⁷ Lewis, Printed Ephemera, 149-150; Maurice Rickards, Collecting Printed Ephemera (New York: Abbeville Press, 1988), (174].

⁸ G. W. Keeton, "Probate Sale" (Natchez, MS: Daily Courier, (1837]).

⁹ U. S. Army, Department of the Gulf, "General Orders No.12" (New Orleans: [s.n.] 1862 [i.e. 1863]).

¹⁰ Rickards, Collecting Printed Ephemera, [98], [123].

¹¹ Reynaldo Alejandro, Classic Menu Design: From the Collections of the New York

Public Library (Glen Cove, NY: PBC International, 1988), [10], [198]; Jefferson Williamson, The American Hotel: An Anecdotal History (New York: Knopf, 1930),

192-193. A steamer menu from the Wade Hampton, printed at the Magic Press Print in New Orleans, is illustrated in Katherine J. Adams, "Organizing an Ephemera Collection: Some Principles," in this issue.

¹² Printing on cloth began in England in 1690 and came to North America during the colonial period, where the earliest printed textiles were bandannas, kerchiefs, and handkerchiefs that usually portrayed American military or political topics or commemorated historical events. Herbert Ridgeway Collins, Threads of History:

Americana Recorded on Cloth, 1775 to the Present (Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1979), 1-2; Alejandro, Classic Menu Design, [10], [198]; Williamson, American Hotel, 192-193.

¹³ Hildegard Binder Johnson, French Louisiana and the Development of the German Triangle (Minneapolis: Associates of the James Ford Bell Library, University of Minnesota, 1983), [1].

¹⁴ Alan Clinton, Printed Ephemera: Collection Organisation and Access (London:

Clive Bingley, 1981), 37; Andreas Brown, "Postcards: Pictures for Personal Messages,"

The Encyclopedia of Collectibles: Phonographs to Quilts (Alexandria, Va.: Time-Life Books, 1979), 76-79.

¹⁵ Cynthia Hart, John Grossman, and Priscilla Dunhill, "Romantic Notions" [Chapter 6] in A Victorian Scrapbook (New York: Workman Publishing, 1989), passim.; Rickards, Collecting Printed Ephemera, 146-147.

¹⁶ Hart [and others], Victorian Scrapbook, [114], passim.; Rickards, Collecting Printed Ephemera, [154]; Howard A. Buechner, Daniel Anton Buechner, Master Lithographer of Old New Orleans (1856-1937): Creator of Mardi Gras Art and the Famous Labels (Metairie, LA: Thunderbird Press, 1983), 78.

¹⁷ Sharron Uhler, "My Dear Mr. Prang," The Ephemera Journal 1 (1987): 28-32; Rickards, Collecting Printed Ephemera, [90]; Hart [and others], Victorian Scrapbook, 14-15; Peter C. Marzio, "The Democratic Art of Chromolithography: An Overview," in Art & Commerce: American Prints of the Nineteenth Century (Charlottesville, VA: University Press of Virginia, 1978), 77-102 passim.

¹⁸ Rickards, Collecting Printed Ephemera, [150-151; Hart [and others], Victorian Scrapbook, 129, passim.

¹⁹ Clinton, Printed Ephemera, 36; Rickards, Collecting Printed Ephemera, [1241-125; Hart [and others], Victorian Scrapbook, [116]-[117]; Francine Kirsch, "The Festive Honeycomb: A Fantasia in Tissue," AB Bookman’s Weekly 85 (March 5, 1990): 950-957.

²⁰ No copies of "La Danse Française" are known to survive. Jack D. L. Holmes, "The Moniteur de la Louisiane in 1798," Louisiana History 2 (1961): 244-245; Shepard, Street Literature, 13-14, 21; Jumonville, New Orleans Imprints, passim.

²¹ John R. Kemp, New Orleans (Woodland Hills, CA: Windsor Publications, 1981), 83; Bennett H. Wall, ed., Louisiana: A History (Arlington Heights, IL: Forum Press, 1984), 171.

²² Mary C. Henderson, Broadway Ballyhoo: The American Theater Seen in Posters, Photographs, Magazines, Caricatures, and Programs (New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1989), [11]-13.

²³ On1y a fragment of this printed broadside or handbill exists, and it lacks the title of the ballet. This remnant survives because Narcisse Broutin, a New Orleans notary, scrawled some figures on it and annexed it to a notarial act of February 17, 1800, now housed at the Orleans Parish Notarial Archives. Rene J. Le Gardeur, Jr., The First New Orleans Theatre, 1792-1803 (New Orleans: Leeward Books, 1963), 33.

²⁴ Henderson, Broadway Ballyhoo, 13-19.

²⁵ lbid., [153]-166.

²⁶ Ibid., 166-170.

²⁷ Clinton, Printed Ephemera, 48.

Florence M. Jumonville is head librarian at the Historic New Orleans Collection.

The Ephemera Society acknowledges with thanks the editor of Louisiana Libraries for granting permission to reproduce this article from Volume 53, Number 2, published in Fall 1990.