The Hennessey Clipper. (Hennessey, Okla.), Vol. 19, No. 31, Ed. 1 Thursday, December 17, 1908 Page: 7 of 8
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T
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i
Asks Van.
Did He Look Like
Mft.PiJAir
Joseph C. Lincoln
Author of "Capn Eri" "Partners ofthe Tide*
Copyfio r /so? A<5Bamaaa°Co/iPANr
t t t
Illustrations by T. D. Melvtu. ■—
Mr. Solomon Pratt began comical nar-
ration of story, introducing well-to-do
Nathan Scudder of his town, and Edward
Van Brunt and Martin Hartley, two rich
New Yorkers seeking rest. Because of
latter pair's lavish expenditure of money,
Pratt's flrst impression was connected
with lunatics. The arrival of James
Hopper, Van Brunt's valet, gave Pratt
the desired information about the New
Yorkers. They wished to live what they
termed "The Natural I^ife." Van Brunt,
It was learned, was the successful suitor
for the hand of Miss Agnes Page, who
Save Hartley up.
CHAPTER 111.
Too Many Cooks.
It was a day or so after that that I
see Nate Scudder again. I'd been out
In the sloop with a parcel of boarders
—they were beginning to get thicker
at the Old Home now, same as the
mosquitoes—and on my way home I
met Nate driving down the Neck road.
He was in the carryall and I hailed
him as he come abreast of me.
"Hello, Nate!" I says. "Taking the
air, are you?"
He pulled up his horse—it didn't
take a hard pull—and, while the crit-
ter leaned up against the shafts and
took a nap, Nate talked to me. It
appeared that there'd been more or
less trouble down his way. Huldy Ann
and Lord James hadn't agreed any too
well.
"You see," says Nate, taking a calico
handkerchief out of his hat and
swabbing his bald head with it, "it's
that valet feller—he's too stuck-up to
live."
I wa'n't going to fight with him on
that point, so he went ahead with his
yarn.
"He come parading out to the barn,"
says Nate, "and give out that he'd
been appointed cook in Huldy Ann's
place. Well, she'd been sort of laying
herself out, as you might say, to
please them two up at the house—
giving 'em spider bread and dried ap-
ple pie for breakfast, and the like of
that—and it riled her to be chucked
overboard that way. So she got sort
sarcastic. That Opper man, he—"
"His name's Hopper," I says.
"He don't call it so, then."
"That's all right. Him and I had a
spelling match here t'other day and
Hopper It is," I says.
"Well, then, this Hopper feller he
lorded it round, asking where the
double biler was and complaining that
he couldn't cook steak without a char-
coal fire, and so on. Huldy took him
down, I tell you!
"'Charcoal your granny!' says she.
Tve fried more steak than you've got
liairs on your head, and a plain wood
fire always done me,' she says.
"He cooked that steak, and say! I'll
bet the Iron-Jawed Man I see once at a
dime show up to Boston couldn't have
got away with it. Tough! Why, the
pesky idiot never pounded It a bit!
How do you expect to get tender
steak if you don't pound it? Haw!
haw!"
When he got through laughing he
went on to say that him and Huldy had
decided to go over to her sister's at
Ostable for a visit.
"We've been Intending to go for a
good while," he says. "And now we
can do it without its costing much.
Pay for the house goes on whether
we're there or not, and the railroad
fare'il be more than made up by the
saving in our own grub. I'm a peace-
able feller, anyhow," says he, "and
there'd be no peace while Huldy and
that Britisher was together."
"Case of too many cooks spoiling
the soup, hey?" says I.
"Soup!" he says. "Well, you wait a
little spell. If they ain't chasing
around after a new cook inside of a
week I'm a Jonah, that's all."
He was right. Couple of days later
I heard from Emmie T. that the Twins
had hired Hannah Jane Purvis to do
the cooking for 'em. Hannah Jane's
late lamented had been cook on a
Banks boat when he was young, so I
suppose she cal'lated she'd inherited
the knack. But I had my doubts.
I was getting real chummy with the
Heavenlies by this time, so one after-
noon I walked up to the Scudder place
to see 'em. They were sprawled out
on the piazza chairs with their feet
on the railing and they hailed me as
friendly as if I was rich as they was, in-
stead of being poorer than Job's tur-
key. I noticed Lord James tiptoeing
around in the parlor, so I naturally
mentioned him.
"Your valet man, here," I says; "he
wa'n't quite to the skipper's taste as
cook, hey?"
They both laughed, Van Brunt with
his big good-natured "Ha, ha!" and
Hartley with that quiet chuckle of his.
"James," said Van, "is a glittering
success in the wardrobe, but he dis-
likes to hide his talents under a kitch-
en bushel."
"James," said Hartley, "appears to
apply the same methods to trousers
and steak."
"Presses both of 'em, don't he?" I
says, thinking of Scudder's yarn.
"Plat as a board," says Van. "Be-
sides which, this is supposed to be a
pleasure cruise for Martin and me,
and James serves with the cheerful
dignity of an undertaker. He's too
complex; we yearn for simplicity and
rest."
I grinned. "Well, you've got the
simplicity with Hannah, ain't you?" I
asked. "I ain't saying nothing about
the rest."
Both of 'em groaned. I knew Han-
nah Jane Purvis, and she had the
name of talking the hinges off a barn
door.
"Lord!" says Van. "Let's change
the subject. By the way, Martin; it's
odd that Agnes hasn't written."
Hartley was setting out towards the
front of the porch where the sun could
get at him. Now he shifted back into
the shadow of the vines.
"Is it time for a letter to reach
here?" he asked.
"Why, yes. I should think so. She
was to reach New York on the first
and sail on that day. She would prob-
ably write on the seamer. It was a
fast boat and, allowing that the letter
came back immediately—well, I don't
know that It is time yet."
He began to whistle. I gathered
that 'twas the Page girl he was talk-
ing about. The valet had told about
her going on a trip to Europe. But
it struck me that, for an engaged man,
Van Brunt was the easiest in his
mind of anybody ever I see. I've never
been engaged myself, but judging by
them I've known who was, he'd ought
to be shooting telegrams to Europe
faster than you could shake 'em out of
a pepper box.
Neither of 'em spoke for a minute.
Then Hartley asked, quiet as usual;
"Have you written her, Van?"
"Oh, yes; dropped a line the other
day, telling her we were safe and duly
housed and so on. Whooped up the
Joys of the 'Natural' and begged her to
'go thou and do likewise.' Which she
would like to do, probably, but which
also—if I know her highly respected
mamma—she won't."
Where did you address your let-
ter?" Hartley asks, after a little.
"Liverpool, care of her usual hotel.
She'll get it all right—always pro-
vided she hasn't already organized a
settlement colony of small Hooligans
in the Liverpool slums. But there!
Let's forget morals and matrimony.
Heigho! Wonder what's doing in the
Street? Not that I care a red."
They seemed to have forgot me alto-
gether. But I was interested in their
talk all the same, and I've tried to put
it down just as I heard it. 'Twas queer
talk, but they was queer folks, and I
was learning how the big-bugs done
their courting. From what I'd heard
so far I liked the Wellmouth way full
as well.
The front gate clicked^ Van Brunt
looked up. "Great Scott!" says he, "it's
the phonograph."
'Twas Hannah Jane Purvis coming
home from the next house with a dish-
pan full of peas. Hannah was a kind
of scant patterned critter without
much canvas on her poles and her
sleeves most generally rolled up. She
had brindled hair clewed back so tight
off her forehead that her eyes wouldn't
shut good, and the impression you got
from the first look at her was that she
was all square corners—not a round
one in the lot.
"Well!" says she, coming up into
the wind in front of the piazza and
looking at me hard. "I do believe it's
Solomon Pratt. Why, what a stran-
ger you be! I ain't seen you for I
don't know when."
I didn't know when either and I
didn't try to remember. "Sufficient
unto the day is the trouble belonging
to it," the Scriptures say, if I recollect
it right, and 'twas enough for me that
she'd seen me this time. She comes
over, dishpan and all, and planks her-
self down on the steps right in front
of Van Brunt's chair. There ain't
nothing shy or unfriendly about Han-
nah Jane; she's the most folksy fe-
male I ever come across, and always
was.
"My sakes!" says she, turning round
to Van, "I see Mr. Pratt come in here
and I couldn't make out who 'twas.
Thinks I: 'They've got company and
I must get there quick.' So back I
put, and I don't know as I've got a full
measure of peas 'cause it seemed to
me that some of 'em spilled off the
top when Cap'n Poundberry was
emptyin' 'em in. I hope not, 'cause
peas is high now. Not that it makes
any difference to well-off folks like
you, Mr. Van Brunt, but—"
"Hadn't you better go back and
pick 'em up?" asks Van, solemn as an
owl.
"Oh, land of love! no. There
wa'n't enough for that. Besides I want
to see Mr. Pratt. Well, Mr. Pratt,"
says she. "I suppose you're surprised
enough to find me working out. Dear!
dear! I don't know what Jehiel—he
that was my first husband—would
have said; nor my second one neither.
But there! we can't none of us never
tell what's in store for us in this
world, can we?"
I made some sort of answer; don't
matter what. She went ahead lament-
ing over what a come-down 'twas for
her to work out. You'd think she'd
been used to marble halls to hear her.
She settles the dishpan between her
knees and starts in shelling peas,
talking a blue streak all the time. She
was a whole sewing circle in herself,
that woman.
"Jehiel was such a quiet man," she
says, after a spell. "He scarcely ever
talked." (Didn't have a chance, thinks
I to myself.) "When he died—did I
ever tell you how Cap'n Samuels—my
flrst husband as was—come to die, Mr.
Hartley?" says she.
Hartley had took up the Natural
Life book and was trying to read it.
Now he looked up and says, mournful
but resigned: "No, Mrs. Purvis, I be-
lieve we have never had the pleasure."
"The pleasure was wholly the
Cap'n's," says Van Brunt under his
breath. If Hannah Jan heard him she
didn't let it worry her.
"Well," she says, "'twas this way:
Cap'n Jehiel—him that was my first
husband—was the most regular man
in his habits that ever was, I guess.
Every Saturday night all the time we
was married—and we was married
eleven year, not counting the two after
he was took sick—he always had baked
beans for supper. I used to say to
him: 'Jehiel,' I used to say, 'ain't you
tired of baked beans? I should think
you'd turn into beans, you're so fond
of 'em.' But he never did and—"
She stopped for a second to get her
breath. Van cut in quick.
"That wasn't the cause of his death,
then?" he asks, very grave.
"Who—what?"
"Turning into beans? Of course
not. I believe you said he didn't
turn."
"I said he never got tired of 'em.
Course he didn't turn into 'em. Who-
ever heard of such a thing? Well, as
I was saying; every Saturday night
we had 'em, and one night—'twas the
last one, poor thing—" She stopped
to unfurl her handkerchief and mop
her eyes.
"Pray go on, Mrs. Purvis," says Van,
very polite. "You were saying 'twas
the last bean—"
"I said 'twas his last well night.
There was beans enough, land knows!
Well, I had 'em on the table and he
set down. 'Hannah,' says he, 'I don't
feel like beans to-night.' 1 looked at
him. It wa'n't because they wa'n't
good beans. I'm always as particular
as can be about cooking beans. Al-
ways put such to soak over night on a
Friday, and then Saturday morning I
take 'em and put 'em in the bean-pot
along with some molasses and a nice
chunk of pork. You can't be too par-
ticular about your pork. 'Don't,' I
used to say to the man that drove the
butcher cart; 'don't,' says I, 'give me
nothing but fat pork. Might's well
have plain lard and be done with It.
Give me,' says I, 'a streaked chunk;
streak of lean and a streak of fat."
Then I put 'em in the oven and bake
'em all day and by night they're
ready. So when Jehiel says to me,
'Hannah, I don't feel like beans,' 1
set and looked at him."
"Did he look like 'em?" asks Van.
Hannah Jane switched round on the
step and stared at him. But he was as
sober as a church and just running
over with sympathy, seemed so, so
she sniffed and went on.
"He looked sick," she says, "and 1
could see that he was sick, too. So 1
got him to bed and what a night I put
in! Oh, the hot jugs to his feet! Oh
the running for the doctor! We had
Dr. Blake here then, Mr. Pratt. You
remember him, don't you? Great big
tall man with gray whiskers. No
wait a minute. 'Twas Dr. White thai
had the whiskers; Dr. Blako was
smooth-faced. No, seems to me he
had a mustache. I remember he did
because he was engaged to Emma
Baker's sister's girl and she used to
say that when she once got him foi
good he'd have to raise more beard
than that. She said a doctor withoui
a beard was like a soft-boiled egg with
out—without—without something or
'nother in it. Strange 1 can't think!
An egg without something in it—"
"Chicken, possibly," suggests Van.
"No, Indeed. Salt! that's what 'twas
A soft-biled egg without salt in it
Now you'd ought to be as careful
about biling eggs as you had about
anything else. Way some folks bite
eggs is a sin and shame. I've et eggt
so hard that you could build a stone
wall out of 'em, seems so; and then
again I've et 'em when I've actually
had to drink 'em. Now when I bile
eggs I always—let me see; I wa'n't
speaking of eggs when I fust started.
Where was I?"
"You were telling us about beans, 1
believe, Mrs. Purvis," purrs Van
again, sweet and buttery as can be.
"I seem to have a dim recollection of
beans, Mrs. P."
"Oh, yes, yes! I was going on to
tell of Jehiei's sufferin's, Mr. Van
Brunt. If I could only begin to give
you an idea of that poor critter's
agony. Why, he—who's that at the
back door?"
'Twas the neighbor's boy, as it
turned out, come to borrow a cupful
of sugar, but he took Hannah Jane
away from us, which was a mercy.
She dropped the dishpan and went in-
side.
Van Brunt looked after her. "Will
some one please inform me," says he,
"whether I've been at a clinic, or a
funeral, or just a cooking-school ses-
sion ?"
"Humph!" says Hartley. "Unfor-
tunate interruption. Now we shan't
learn what became of the long-suffer-
ing Jehiel."
"Oh, he died," says Van. "I wanted
to find out what became of those
beans."
"I understand now why they put
'At Rest' on Jehiei's gravestone," I
says.
Hartley turned to me. "Skipper,"
he says, "you mustn't think that Van
and I are altogether cold-blooded be-
cause we refuse to weep over the de-
parted Samuels. The lady has
cheered us with happy little memories
of this kind ever since she agreed to
demean herself and make 'riz biscuit'
at four-fifty per. She began with her
cousin, who died of small-pox, and
she's worked down through the family
till she's got to her husband."
"Yes," says Van, "and he's only her
first. We shall hear later how Num-
ber Two fell into a stone-crusher or
was boiled in oil. Lord!"
' "Hank Purvis had five brothers,"
says I; "and they've all died within
the last ten year. You've got more
funerals coming to you."
It was quiet for a few minutes. Out
back we could hear Hannah Jane lay-
ing into the neighbor's boy because
he tracked mud on the kitchen floor.
"It was no use," says Van, decided.
"I refuse to renew my subscription to
The Daily Morgue. All those in favor
of parting with the Widow Purvis at
once, immediate, P. D. Q., will say
'Aye.' Contrary minded, 'No.' It's a
vote. Hannah is erased. What shall
we do, Martin—go back to James and
dignity, or feed ourselves?"
Hartley seemed to be thinking.
"Skipper," says he to me, "you can
cook. I—even I, the interesting in-
valid—can eat your chowder and like
it and come back for more. Will you
come and help us out? What do you
say ?"
Van Brunt sat up straight. "Mar-
tin," says he, "you're as comforting as
the shadow of a great rock in a—in a
—something or other. You're a genius.
Pratt, you've got to come here and
live with us. We need thee every
hour, as Mrs. P. sings at 5 a. m.,
which is her ungodly time for getting
out of bed. It's settled; you're com-
ing."
"Well, now; hold on," says I. "Some
ways I'd like to, and, if you want plain
cooking, why, I guess likely I can give
it to you. But business is business
and there's my boat and my living for
the summer. You're here only a
month, as I understand it, and—"
That didn't make no difference. I
could fetch the Dora Bassett along too.
Van said. Hartley explained that they
intended to stay through the summer,
anyhow, perhaps later. He went on to
tell that he and his chum was what
he called "redeemed conventionali-
ties," or some such name, and that
they Intended to stay redeemed.
They'd hitched horses and agreed to
find the Natural in all its glory. And
the Natural they was going to find if
it took a thousand year.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
HEARTH AND HOME
SUGGESTIONS OF VALUE TO THE
HOUSEKEEPER.
Proper Care of Irons Will Add Many
Days to Their Usefulness—
Emergency Shelf of Great
Value to Cook.
Irons—It is very easy to spoil irons
oy keeping them constantly on the
stove. They lose
temper under such
t r e a t m ent, and
will not retain the
heat. As soon as
tho ironing is
done, set the irons
off the stove, and
when they are
cold imt them
away In a dry place. Irons are often
injured by being stored where it is
damp, it is a good plan to have a
small closet especially for the articles
required in ironing. About once in
two or three months the irons should
be thoroughly washed in a pan of
warm water, in which a tablespoonful
of lard has been dissolved. A piece of
brown beeswax tied in a cloth, or a
little fine salt spread out on a paper
is the best thing to remove roughness
from the irons when in use.
Emergency Shelf—There are few
things t hat give more honest comfort
to a housekeeper than an emergeney
shelf or an emergency drawer, where
a lock and key will prove valuable. In
this drawer keep little dainties thai,
added to what you always have in the
house, will enable you at a moment's
notice to prepare an appetizing lunch-
eon for an unexpected guest or to sup-
plement the regular menu of a dinner
when an extra plate lias to be provid-
ed for. Suggestions for this drawer
are: A jar of cheese, can of salmon,
one of sardines, some potted meat,
jars of marmalade, boxes of fancy bis-
cuit, sweet chocolate, ready for a hot
drink, or cocoa and condensed milk.
One housewife utilizes the top tray of
her trunk for an emergency shelf.
Probably it is the only place where
she can have full control of the key.
Group of Timely Hints—Linen al-
ways needs more sprinkling than cot-
ton, and should be rolled more com-
pactly. Pull lace gently, opening the
mesh with the left hand as you iron
with the right. Save nut shells in an
old paper bag until some time when
you want something to brown very
quickly in t#e oven. Then throw them
on the Are and get the full benefit of
the quick intense heat. Some college
girls ordered their handkerchiefs
marked in the exact center.
New Hat Rack—If your usual hat
rack Is overcrowded and there is a
convenient shelf near by, in the under
part screw double hooks. Place them
at such a distance that a derby, when
held rim up, will just slide in between
the two staples and rest easily on the
hooks. Thus several hats may be ac-
commodated underneath a shelf out of
the way of all dust.
Oil Stains—Cover the stain thickly
with lard. Let it stand long enough to
absorb all the grease. Then wash out
in cold water and dry.
MADE ROACHES HIS FRIENDS.
Act of Artemus Ward That Had Far.
Reaching Effect.
George V. Kelcey, a veteran journal-
ist of Cleveland, remembers Artemus
Ward well.
"Ward called on me," he said the
other day, "the night before one of
his panorama lectures. There were
some three or four large roaches scur-
rying about my room, and they attract-
ed his attention.
" 'I am very fond of roaches,' he
said. 'Once, in my own home, I found a
ritach struggling in a bowl of water. I
took a half walnut shell and put him
In it; it made a good boat; I gave him
a couple of toothpicks for oars. Next
morning I saw that he had fastened
a hair to one of the toothpicks, and
had evidently been fishing. Then,
overcome with exhaustion, he had
fallen asleep. The sight moved me. I
took him out, washed him, gave him
a spoonful of boiled egg, and let him
go. That roach never forgot my kind-
ness, and now my home is full of
roaches.'"
TWO GOOD STORIES BY BARRIE,
One Told by Succcssful Author Is De-
cidedly Against Himself.
Mr. J. W. Barrie, the author of
"What Every Woman Knows," tells a
good story against himself.
A lady of his acquaintance had
taken a friend to see one of his plays,
and, quite astonished, he asked her
why she did so.
"Oh," was the reply, "it's such a
quiet street for the horses!"
He also tells of a playgoer who re-
ceived no response to his repeated re-
quests to a lady In front of him to
remove her huge hat.
At length, exasperated, he said: "If
you won't take off your hat, my dear
madam, will you be so kind as to fold
back your ears?"—Woman's Life.
Sheer white goods, in fact, any fine
wash goods when new, owe much of
their attractiveness to the way they
are laundered, this being done in a
manner to enhance their textile beau-
ty. Home laundering would be equal-
ly satisfactory if proper attention was
given to starching, the first essential
being good Starch, which has sufficient
strength to stiffen, without thickening
the goods. Try Defiance Starch and
you will be pleasantly surprised at thf
Improved appearance of your work.
At the Riding School.
"Mount your horse on the left side."
"Why? What difference does it
make?"
"It's the rule."
"But why should It be the rule?"
"Because in the oast horsemen wore
•words. They worn them on the left
tip. Hence, had they mounted on the
right side, the sword would have got
in the way. So they mounted on the
left, and wo still mount on the left.
Horses are accustomed to it, and if
you try to get up from the right you
are liable to be kicked."
Delicious Condiment.
Red peppers and green peppers
make a delicious condiment for meat.
Take four dozen red peppers and cut
Into small pieces. Grate two roots of
horseradish and six good-sized onions;
add two tablespoonfuis of celery seed,
two of mustard seed and one of salt.
Put all the ingredients into a granite
kettle, add one quart each of vinegar
and water. Let boil for ten minutes,
ihen stir in one pound of brown sugar
and let boil for one hour. Thin with a
pint of vinegar before removing from
the fire. An asbestos mat should be
placed under the kettle. Otherwise
:he ketchup requires frequent stirring.
Always use a granite or wooden
spoon. Let cool before bottling.
Bread and Apple Pudding.
Slice stale bread quite thin, butter-
'ng each slice, also peel, core and slice
some nice tart apples. In a buttered
dish put first a layer of bread slices,
then of apples, sprinkling each layer
of bread with two or three tablespoons
of warm water, and the apple layers
with two tablespoons sugar and a little
cinnamon or nutmeg. Have top layer
of bread, cover closely, bake in mod-
erate oven 2% to three hours. Serve
either hot or cold, preferably with
thin cream.
Speaking for the Chickens.
A southerner, hearing a great com-
motion in Ills chicken-house one dark
night, took hiB revolver and went to
investigate.
"Who's there?" he sternly demand-
ed, opening the door.
No answer.
"Who's there? Answer, or I'll
shoot!"
A trembling voice from the farthest
corner.
" 'Deed, sah, dey ain't nobody hyah
'ceptin' us chickens."—Everybody's
Magazine.
The Dissatisfied.
The happy people In the world are
those who enjoy what they have.
Those for whom nothing is good
enough are neither fit for earth nor
would be satisfied in heaven. Here
they are restless. There their halos
would be damp or would not set
Btralght. The third domain, which
rhymes with well, would not be well
for them, for the beBt would be too
invariable or attending to fires would
be too monotonous.
Fold Rugs on Line.
Buy a dozen of the largest Bafety
pins, the kind used in fastening horse
blankets. Throw one end over the
line and pin together on each side,
lengthwise. A dozen of these pins
will hold quite a number of rugs and
hold them on the line as long as you
care to beat them. This little bit of
experiment only takes a few minutes
longer, and sweetens one's temper
wonderfully on cleaning days.
With a smooth Iron and Defiance
Starch, you can launder your shirt-
waiBt juBt as well at home as the
(team laundry can; it will have the
proper stiffness and finish, there will
he less wear and tear of the goods,
and it will be a positive pleasure to
use a Starch that does not stick to the
•ron.
Explained.
"What's the difference between
valor and discretion?"
"Well, to go. through Europe without
tipping would be valor."
"I see."
"And to come back by a different
route would be discretion."—Kansas
City Journal.
Aunt Ibbie's Pudding.
Pare, core and quarter tart cooking
apples, using enough to cover the bot-
tom of a buttered baking dish. Make
a sponge cake batter according to any
favorite formula and pour over the
pieces of apple in the pan. Bake In a
moderate oven until the fruit is soft
enough to be easily pierced by a
straw. Serve with hard sauce. Vanila,
lemon or spice will do for flavoring.
Money-Saver in Kitchen.
A chopping machine is very often an
article that the master of the house
does not care to furnish the needful
cash for, and if he could only be
brought to see what tasty dishes could
be made out of the scraps off bones he
would immediately rush off to the
store and buy one.
Wichita Directory
Wheeler Lithographing Co.
WICHITA, KANSAS
Lithographing, Printing, Embossing,
Loose Leaf Systems, Office Supplies.
Write us before placing your order else-
where. We can save you money.
For a dainty lunch, try a package
of Western Biscuit Co.'s Vanilla Wa-
fers. 10c. at your Grocer's.
Hot, Hot, Ginger Snaps—a treat for
the children. 6c. at your Grocer's.
WANTKO IUUNU MNN TO I.KAUN
Telegraphy and Railway Business
Strongest in utuUon uf the kind In the west. Positions
miarantood all who learn the business, t twumerclal
ratings In Brad street's. WICHITA TKUMilUPH COIXKHIt,
301 Booth Main 8t. *! • . **r-. Wichita. Kaaa
Get a fresh, crisp package of Try*
■urn Biscuit at your Grocer's. 5c.
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Miller, C. H. The Hennessey Clipper. (Hennessey, Okla.), Vol. 19, No. 31, Ed. 1 Thursday, December 17, 1908, newspaper, December 17, 1908; Hennessey, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc105635/m1/7/: accessed April 19, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.