A posted named Kat put this reference up here on the site in 20089 (it seems like she was a strong poster...thanks for this Kat, while you are departed I hope you aren't departed)RGJ wrote:I saw a reference last month, which of course I carefully filed for a challenge just as this :-( about how Morse made a sudden effort at socialization. It specifically mentioned upgrading his buggy, which had been a one plank seat, into something more likely to spur female endorphins (or whatever that is called). also mentioend an upgrade in clothes, and further mentioned be then gave up and reverted to his old penny-pinch ways.Curryong wrote:You are ascribing a lot of motives for John Morse that just aren't there. What makes you think that he wanted to be married at his age in 1892?
I'll look for it.
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viewtopic.php?f=1&t=4377
Also, in the Evening Standard there is this about Morse's suit:
Friday August 19, 1892 Page 1
THE FALL RIVER MURDERS.
[subtitle] History of John V. Morse Learned
in Hastings, Ia.
. . . . . .
. . .Even after Morse became comparatively well off there was no laxation in his frugal practices. He would drive to town in an old rattletrap lumber wagon, using a pine board for a seat, when he could just as well have afforded a buggy. He would wear the same suit of clothes everywhere, and on all occasions, and one suit usually lasted him two or three years. Indeed, it is pretty certain that the suit he is now wearing at Fall River is the same one he wore when he left here two years ago.
Only once during the long period of his residence here did he show any inclination to take any comfort in life as he went along. One Winter he electrified everybody who knew him by purchasing a nice new buggy and a new suit of clothes. He suddenly showed a disposition to go into society, and all that Winter he attended parties and such other social gatherings as country and village life afforded.
Looking for a Wife.
It was evident that he was looking for a wife, but no girl seemed to take kindly to the long, lanky, awkward, hard-featured fellow, who dressed like a scarecrow and ate like a cormorant. This was no doubt the reason why when the Winter was over he sold his buggy, laid aside his store clothes and gave up his dream of connubial joy.
[etc]...
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Okay? christ. Admit he did it now.