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Mary Helen Howliston

Female 1849 - 1922  (73 years)


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  • Name Mary Helen Howliston 
    Born 1849  IL, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
    Gender Female 
    Died 2 November 1922  Chicago, Cook Co., IL, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
    Notes 
    • in Chicago in 1907 when brother Andrew died

      1850 USA census - Joliet, Will Co., IL, USA:
      Name Estimated Birth Year Birthplace
      Mary Honliston abt 1807 New York
      Andrew Honliston abt 1842 Illinois
      Jenette Honliston abt 1844 Illinois
      Mary Honliston abt 1849 Illinois
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      1860 USA census (24 Jul 1860) - Town of Joliet, Will Co., IL, USA:
      Name Age Sex Race Occupation Value of Real Estate Personal value Birthplace
      Mary Howliston 53 F Lady 2000 50 NY
      Andrew Howliston 18 M Ills (attended school within last year)
      Jeannette Howliston 16 F Ills (attended school within last year)
      Mary Howliston 11 F Ills (attended school within last year)
      John Taylor 29 M Ohio
      John Borland 55 M NY
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      1870 USA census (20 Jun 1870) - Joliet Ward 3, Will Co., IL, USA:
      Name Age Sex Race Occupation Real Estate Personal Estate Birthplace Father; Mother foreign Male Citizen of US over 21
      Mary Howliston 63 F W Keeping house 3400 200 New York
      Andrew Howliston 28 M W Book Keeper Illinois Y Y
      Jennett Howliston 26 F W Dress maker Illinois Y
      Mary Howliston 21 F W School Teacher Illinois Y
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      1900 USA census - Chicago Ward 32, Cook, Illinois :
      Mary Howleichton abt 1849 Boarder Illinois White
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      1910 USA census (3 May 1910) - 7-WD Chicago, Cook, IL:
      Name Relation Sex Race Age Status Birthplace (own, father, mother)
      Mary H Howliston Head F W 61 S Illinois Scot Scotch New York
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      1920 USA census (11 Jan? 1920) - Chicago, Cook, Illinois:
      Name relation sex race age status Birthplace/Tongue (self, father, mother) Occupation Business
      Mary H Howliston Head F W 57 S Illinois (Eng) Scotland (Eng) New York (Eng) Teaching
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      http://www.ilsos.gov/GenealogyMWeb/IDPHDeathSearchServlet
      Database of Illinois Death Certificates,
      1916–1950
      Last Name First Name Middle Name Sex/Race Age Cert # Death Date County City Date Filed
      HOWLISTON MARY HELEN F/W UNK 6026207 1922-11-02 COOK CHICAGO 22-11-03
      ==========================================================
      FEBRUARY TWELFTH
      BY MARY H. HOWLISTON
      It was early in the evening in a shop where flags were sold.
      There were large flags, middle-sized flags, small flags and little bits of flags. The finest of all was Old Glory. Old Glory was made of silk and hung in graceful folds from the wall.
      “Attention!” called Old Glory.
      Starry eyes all over the room looked at him.
      “What day of the month is it?”
      “February Twelfth,” quickly answered the flags.
      “Whose birthday is it?” “Abraham Lincoln’s.”
      “Where is he buried?” “Springfield, Illinois.”
      “Very well,” said Old Glory, “you are to take some of Uncle Sam’s children there to-night.”
      “Yes, captain,” said the flags, wondering what he meant.
      “First, I must know whether you are good American flags. How many red stripes have you?”
      “Seven!” was the answer.
      “How many white stripes?” “Six!”
      “How many stars?” “Forty-five!” shouted the large flags.
      The little ones said nothing.
      “Ah, I see,” said Old Glory, “but you are not to blame. Do you see that open transom?” he went on. “Go through it into the street, put your staffs into the hands of any little boys you find and bring them here.”
      “Yes, captain,” called the flags, as they fluttered away.
      Last of all, Old Glory pulled his silken stripes into the hallway and waited for the flags to come back. “It’s much too cold for little girls,” he said to himself. “Their pretty noses might freeze.”
      By and by the flags came back, each bringing a small boy. Old Glory looked at them.
      “What’s the matter?” said he; “you don’t seem pleased.”
      No one spoke, the little boys stared with round eyes at Old Glory, but held tightly to the flags.
      At last one of the flags said: “Please, captain, these are the only little boys we could find.”
      “Well!” said Old Glory.
      “And we think they don’t belong to Uncle Sam,” was the answer.
      “Why not?” said Old Glory.
      “Some of them are ragged,” called one flag.
      “And some are dirty,” said another.
      “This one is a colored boy,” said another.
      “Some of them can’t speak English at all.”
      “The one I found, why, he blacks boots!”
      “And mine is a newsboy.”
      “Mine sleeps in a dry goods box.”
      “Mine plays a violin on the street corner.”
      “Just look at mine, captain!” said the last flag proudly, when the rest were through.
      “What about him?” asked Old Glory.
      “I’m sure he belongs to Uncle Sam; he lives in a brown-stone house and he wears such good clothes!”
      “Of course I belong to Uncle Sam,” said the brown-stone boy quickly, “but I think these street boys do not.”
      “There, there!” said Old Glory; “I’ll telephone to Washington and find out,” and Old Glory floated away.
      The little boys watched and waited.
      Back came Old Glory.
      “It’s all right,” said he, “Uncle Sam says every one of you belongs to him and he wants you to be brave and honest, for some day he may need you for soldiers; oh, yes! and he said, ’Tell those poor little chaps who have such a hard time of it and no one to help them, that Mr. Lincoln was a poor boy too, and yet he was the grandest and best of all my sons.’”
      The moon was just rising.
      It made the snow and ice shine.
      “It’s almost time,” said Old Glory softly.
      “Hark! you must not wink, nor cough nor sneeze nor move for three-quarters of a minute!”
      That was dreadful!
      The newsboy swallowed a cough.
      The boot-black held his breath for fear of sneezing.
      The brown-stone boy shut his eyes so as not to wink.
      They all stood as if turned to stone.
      Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, came a faint sound of bells.
      Nothing else was heard but the beating of their own hearts.
      In exactly three-quarters of a minute, Old Glory said, “What do you think of that?”
      Behold! a wonderful fairy sleigh, white as a snowdrift, and shining in the moonlight as if covered with diamond dust.
      It was piled high with softest cushions and robes of fur.
      It was drawn by thirteen fairy horses, with arching necks and flowing manes and tails.
      Each horse wore knots of red, white and blue at his ears and the lines were wound with ribbons of the same.
      “Jump in,” said Old Glory.
      Into the midst of the cushions and furs they sprang.
      Crack went the whip, tinkle went the bells. Over the house-tops, through the frosty air, among the moonbeams, up and away sailed fairy horses and sleigh, American flags and Uncle Sam’s boys.
      Santa Claus with his reindeer never went faster.
      Presently the tinkling bells were hushed, and the fairy horses stood very still before the tomb of Abraham Lincoln.
      “Come,” said Old Glory, and he led them inside.
      You must get your father or mother to tell you what they saw there.
      Just before they left, a dirty little hand touched Old Glory and a shrill little voice said: “I’d like to leave my flag here. May I?”
      “And may I?” said another.
      Old Glory looked around and saw the same wish in the other faces.
      “You forget,” said he, “that the flags are not yours. It would not be right to keep them. What did the people call Mr. Lincoln? You don’t know? Well, I’ll tell you. It was ‘Honest Old Abe,’ and Uncle Sam wants you to be like him.”
      Again the merry bells tinkled, again the proud horses, with their flowing manes and tails, sprang into the air, and before the moon had said “good-night” to the earth, they were back at the flag shop.
      The very moment they reached it, horses and sleigh, cushions and robes, melted away and the children saw them no more.
    Person ID I29  North American Houlistons
    Last Modified 2 November 2007 

    Father George Houliston,   b. about 1799, Scotland Find all individuals with events at this location,   d. November 1849, Joliet, Will, IL, USA Find all individuals with events at this location  (Age ~ 50 years) 
    Mother Mary ?,   b. 1807, NY, USA Find all individuals with events at this location 
    Family ID F11  Family Group Sheet  |  Family Chart



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