The Inola Register. (Inola, Okla.), Vol. 8, No. 28, Ed. 1 Thursday, February 19, 1914 Page: 3 of 8
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INOLA, OKLA., REGISTER
": : Tra
ESMOND S/IIPMAN AUDRtW-S w
ULusTOmons ^ra^voFTHTOUNer
SYNOPSIS.
Francois Beaupre, a peasant babe of
three years, after an amusing incident In
which Marshal New figure*, la made a
Chevalier of France by the Kmperor Na-
poleon. who propheaied that the boy
might one day be a marshal of Prance
under another Bonaparte. At the age of
ten Francoli villi* General Baron Qas-
pard Gourgaud. who with Allxe, hit
■even-year-old daughter, Uvea #t the
Chateau. A soldier of the Empire under
Napoleon he Area the boy's Imagination
with stories of his campaign*. The gen-
eral offers Francois a home at the Cha-
teau. The boy refuses to leave his pa-
rents. but In the end becomes a copyist
for the general and learna of the friend-
ship between the general and Marquis
Zappl, who campaigned with the general
under Napoleon. Marquis Zappl and his
•on, Pletro. arrive at the Chateau. The
general agrees to care for the Marquis
■on while the former goes to America.
The Marquis before leaving for America
aaked Francois to be a friend of his son.
The boy solemnly promises. Franco s
roes to the Chateau to live. Marquis
Zappl dies leaving Pletro as a ward of
the general. Allxe, Pletro and Francois
meet a strange boy who proves to be
Prince Louis Napoleon. Francois saves
his life. The general discovers Francois
loves Allxe, and extracts a promise from
him that he will not Interfere between the
girl and Pletro. Francois goes to Italy
as secretary to Pletro. Queen Hortense
plans the escape of her son Louis Na-
poleon by disguising him and Marquis
Zappl as her lackeys. Francois takes
Marquis Zappl'a place, who Is ill. in the
escape of Hortense and Louis. Dressed
as Louis's brother Francois lures the
Austrlans from the hotel allowing the
prince and his mother to escape. Fran-
cols Is a prisoner of the Austrlans for
Ave years In the castle owned by Pletro
In Italy. He discovers In his guard one of
Pietro's old family servants, and through
him sends word to his friends of his
plight. The general, Allxe and Pletro
hear from Francois and plan his rescue.
Francola aa a guest of the Austrian gov-
ernor of the castle prison Inspect* the
Interior of the wine cellar of the Zappls.
Francois receives a note from Pletro ex-
plaining In detail how to escape from his
prison. Allxe awaits him on horseback
and leads him to hli friends on board
the American sailing vessel, the Lovely
Lucy."
CHAPTER XIX.
Tha Sacrifice.
Young Henry Hampton, thrilled to
the core at this drama, bent over him,
aft Battista laid him on the deck, and
looked up anxlouBly at Pletra.
"la he living?" he aaked.
He was living, though for an hour or
two the devoted friends who cared for
him doubted If they had not got htm
hack only to lose him. But that laBt
effort of the change to the ship being
past, when consciousness came again
be grew strong more rapidly.
"I thought—the AuBtrians—would
nab me—ae I came aboard," he whis-
pered, smiling gaily as he gasped the
words to Aliie. "It was—Arm in my
mind.".
And Allxe laughed at him, and told
him that they were far out on the Ad
riatic now, safe under the American
flag, and the Austrlans left two hun-
dred miles behind.
"Even if they had—nabbed me,"
whispered Francois, "those two days
■with you would have paid."
And Alixe shuddered a little and told
bim to go to sleep and stop thinking
of Austrians, for they were out of his
life now forever.
"My ^aelgneur," said Francois next
day when the general took his turn at
sitting by his bed, "may 1 aak a ques
tion?"
"Any question in the world, Fran
cols, my son," the general growled at
him, as If the tender words were a de-
fiance to an enemy.
Francois hesitated. "About Allxe
and Pletro."
The general shook his head. "Ah
that! That I cannot tell you, Fran
coIb. Sometimes I believe that I have
been mistaken, that—" the general as
he stopped looked oddly at Francois
and smiled. "Sometimes 1 believe that
even 1, even Gaspard Gourgaud, might
make a mistake in trying to play the
good God. and arranging lives. That
might be—yes. In any case I cannot
tell."
Francois, thinking deeply, hazarded
another question. "He loves her?"
"I believe so, indeed," said the gen
eral. "He cares most to be with us-
with her. Ah yes, I have no doubt that
he l«r*« her. But why It goea no far
ther—eapristi! It Is beyond me—
that! 1 would knock their foolish heads
together, me—but that is not convent
ent."
"Does she love Pietro?"
"Mon dteu! How can a mere man
•ay that? She Is a woman. I do not
know—not in the least." the general
exploded at him.
"But Pietro loves her?" Francois
asked again, htB wistful smiling eyes
searching the general's face.
"Yes—I am sure of It."
And Francois smiled.
"No one could help it," he said halt
to himself.
In a day more little Battista came
Into Francola' cabin and put clothes
on 11m and wrapped him like a mum
my in coats and rugs, and carried him
!n his arms up on deck, and there laid
him in a hammock on the sunny side
or the ship. And the salt air blew on
bla face and he gulped It In, and by
and by Allxe brought a chair and sat
by him and read to him, and Francois
lay quiet and wondered If heaven
could be any Improvement on this.
So, on that long, bright, calm morn
log at sea Francola lay in the ham
mock and watched the million little
waves glisten and break for unknown
miles over the sunlit water, and lis
toned to the voice he loved best In the
world, aa it told him of those others
whom he loved also, and of tbs places
dear to him; and he wondered that he
had Indeed com* through the long
nightmare of prison to this happiness.
"Mr. Hampton haa been talking to
me about Virginia; It must be a beau-
tiful country," said Allxe. "I should
love the free friendly life of those
great domains. I believe I could leave
France and Vieques for such a coun-
try as that, where there are no politi-
cal volcanoes on top of which one
must live. With us it Is always plot-
ting and secrecy. Always a war to
look back on or to look forward to. I
should like to go to Virginia."
"But," said Francois, with tils great
eyes glowing, "the war one now looks
forward to in France will be short and
glorious. And after that will be peace,
for there will be a Bonaparte ruling,
and that means strength and good
government."
How you believe in the great cap-
tain and in his blood," and Allxe
emiled down at the pale face on Are
with its lifelong enthusiasm.
"One must," said Francois simply,
and paused, and went on. "For me—
you know, Alixe, how It Is. How the
star of the Bonapartes haa always
seemed to be my- star! I believe that.
I believe that my life 1b tied to that
house. Nopoleon was more than hu-
man to my mind, his touch set me
aside for his uses In my cradle."
And made you a chevalier," Allxe
considered. "That was a true acco-
lade, Francois. You would have
right to that title under another Bona-
parte."
"I believe bo, Alixe."
"And my father believes it. So you
must hurry and get well and come
back to Franee and be fit for work
hen the prince needs you, Chevalier
Beaupre. My father has told you that
movement Is preparing? He is reck
leas, my father, and It troubles me. It
might be unsafe for him to live In
France if his part in these plots were
known."
"Then you could come to Virginia—
to Carnifax," and Francois amiled.
But Allxe flushed. "That Is Pietro's
estate, not ours," she said quickly;
and then she rose and bent over the
sick boy. "I must go to my father
now," she said, and caught his piti-
ful handa suddenly in both hers. "But
oh! Francois, I wish I could tell you
how it changes all the world to have
you back again"—and she was gone.
Francois, trembling with a rapture
he could not quiet, lay, not stirring, be-
cause he feared to break the spell of
the touch of her hands; feeling within
him a rebel hope that yet he would
not let take hold of him. Could it be?
Was it true? Did she care for him and
not Pletro? Was that the reason that
in all these years she and Pletro were
still only sister and brother? Yet, he
caught and choked the thought. Even
then he had no right, he could not,
would not tell her what she wae to
him. He would he Pietro's friend al-
ways as he had promised long ago;
more, a thousand times more now,
when Pietro had given back to him
freedom and life and hope.
CHAPTER XX.
A Social Crisis.
On a day the ship sailed into a splen-
did roadstead, big enough to hold the
Ths General Shook His Head.
ships of half the world. Then Into
wide flashing river, the 'Jamea river,
four or five miles wide down there at
its mouth. And up and up and up the
bright river, the narrowing river, be-
tween Ite low green banka. with dow
and again a glimpse of a large houae
and of gardena and lawna green with
June, aa one aalled past.
Harry Hampton told Francois who
lived in them aa they went by—Har
risons and Carters and Byrda and Han
dolphs — strange-sounding, difficult,
English names in the ear of the
Frenchman. Young Mr. Hampton knew
them all. it seemed; many of them
were his cousins; Francois listened,
surprised, interested, to the word pic-
ture which the Virginian unconscious-
ly drew, as he talked of everyday hap-
penings. of a society and a way of liv-
ing quite different from aay the
Frenchman had ever heard of.
With that they were In light of
Roanoks house—one might see the
roofs of the buildings over tha treqs—
Harry Hampton pointed It out with a
touch of excitement In hla grave man-
ner. Then, as one slipped along the
sparkling water, there was a sharp
bend in the stream, and aa they turned
It the large silvery green slope of the
lawn lay before them, with Its long
wharf and barges lying at the water-
side, and a ship unloading ita return
cargo from England.
"It is the Sea Lady" called young
Hampton. "She la In before ua—and
she sailed ao long after."
He made a quick movement forward
with hla pathetic broken step—for thla
only son of the Hampton family was a
cripple.
There were people gathering on the
lawn, negroes drawn up In line; the
women in bright-colored turbans, men
and women both ahowlng white teeth
aa they grinned with the pleasure and
the excitement of watching the ship
come In. Then a white light figure
ran down the broad greenness, and a
girl atood, golden curia on her shoul
dera, a straw hat with blue ribbons
tying down some of the golden curie,
but not all—atood and watched and
waved an eager friendly hand.
It la my coualn Lucy." Harry
Hampton aald, and Francois, looking
at him, aaw hla eyes fixed on her in
tently.
In a few mlnutea more, leaving the
ship with hla halting careful step,
Francola aaw him kiss her cousinly—
yet It aeemed not altogether couainly
—and with that he waa saying a word
about "My new friend, the Chevalier
Beaupre," and the girl'a quick hand
claap and the warm welcome In her
voice of honey, made Francola feel as
if a place In her friendship had been
waiting for him*always.
Then, from back of her, from some-
where, towered suddenly a tall man
with- large features, and firat aelxed
Harry Hampton'a hand and then
turned to the atranger with the same
air of entire pleasure and hospitality
"My nephew's friend ia welcome at
Roanoke house," he said, and Francois
with hla few worda of English, under
Btood enough to be warmed to the aoul
at hla firat contact with aouthern hos-
pitality.
"It ia my uncle, Colonel Hampton,"
Harry's voice waa explaining.
They would not hear of hia going to
Carnifax—not for days, not for
month; why should he go at all?—
Colonel Hampton aaked. If he were to
be only a year or two In Virginia, why
trouble to set up housekeeping alone
in that big houae, when Roanoke houae
waa here and in order, and only too
glad to keep him. So Francola for
week or two stayed. And found him'
self, shortly, a notability. Harry Hamp-
ton, hia boyish ambition for adventure
and daring denied every personal out
let, because of that accident in baby'
hood which had atarted him in life
hopele8aly lame, was aa proud of his
salvage from the Austrian bird of
prey aa if Francola* record had been
his own. Much more frankly proud, for
he could talk about it, and did. Alixe
had told him a great deal, and the
episode of the headlong rescue of
Prince Louis Napoleon, the capture
and imprisonment and final theatrical
escape, went like wlld-flre about the
countryside, and stirred all the ro-
mance of the warm-blooded southern-
ers. Every houae wanted the hero to
break bread, and under young Harry'b
proud wing Francoia went gladly to
meet all these frlenda of his frend.
As the general had said years ago.
his simplicity struck the finest note
of sophisticated high breeding; more-
over, he had lived with high-bred
people in more than one country; the
aristocrats of Virginia were delighted
with his young nobleman, as they
thought him—with his charm of man
ner and his etlrring history, with the
lines of suffering still In his thin face
and the broad lock of gray—the badge
of that suffering—in his dark hair;
with the quaint foreign accent too. and
the unexpectedness in the turns of
his rapidly Increasing English.
And now he had left Roanoke, and
was living in the great old house on
Pietro's land, the old house which had
been lived in a hundred years before
Pietro's father had bought it, the old
house In which grandchildren of Pie-
tro live today. ,
Something in his odd broken Eng
llsb, something In bis vivacity and en-
ergy. something in the warmth of th*
heart which the poor souls felt In
him—none quicker than negroes to
feel a heart—fascinated the slaves
who fell to his unaccuatomed manage-
ment. He had met Henry Clay and
the proud aristocrats of Virginia aa
men and women, and given them the
beat of himself; he met these thick-
lipped. dlm-souled. black people ao
otherwise, and gave them the earns.
By the cryital truth la him the first
had been vanquished, and It happened
not differently with these other human
beings. Pietro's mishandled property
grew orderly month by month: Fraa
cois. in the saddle moat of the time,
riding from end to end of tbe planta-
tion, found his hands full and hia work
interesting, and his health and
strength coming back—though that
was a slower progress.
The people who do most are likely
to be the people who can do a thing
more. Young Henry Hampton, ruled
out of the larger part of his natural
pleasures by that stern by-law of na-
ture, which had made him lame, ap-
pealed to Francois* sympathy every
day more deeply. The one thing
which the lad could do was riding.
Henry," Francois spoke, aa the two
trotted together down a shady lane of
the plantation on the way to the far
fields where negroes worked In the
autumn sunlight, "what would you
think of organizing a mounted troop
of militia?"
The boy's face flamed with excite-
ment. What would he think of it? He
would think It glorious, wonderful,
half a dozen big adjectives.
There were many young men in the
neighborhood; all of them rode; none
of them had enough to do; Francois
had a hold on them—a man may not
spend five years In a dungeon because
of a daahing mad act of bravery wlth-
"Led into battle!" Young Henry
laughed shortly. "Led Into a com
field Is more like it." And then hia
glance fired. "Moreover, Uncle Henry,
If there were battle In tbe case, we
should all count ourselves lucky to be
led by—a hero."
"A hero!" Colonel Hampton sniffed.
"A mere French peasant by his own
account Of course, 1 have—received
him, because of your Infatuation for
him. And—the young man haa quali-
ties. He has been a success socially.
I
"My Nsphaw'a Friend Is Wslcoms to
Roanoks House."
out acquiring a halo which adherea
afterward; it was fairly certain that a
military company, originating with the
Chevalier Beaupre, would succeed
And It succeeded. Three days later
It was started with the. cordial sanc-
tion of the fathers and the enthusiasm
of the sons. Francois was, of course,
the moving spirit and the responsible
head, and Francois waa bard at work
calling back the old lore of hla school
days at Saint-Cyr and reading books
on tactics and all military subjects.
"Henry," said Colonel Hampton one
morning after breakfast at Roanoke
House, "I want to apeak to you a mo-
ment in my Btudy."
' Harry went calmly Into the dim
pleaaant. old room, with ita paneled
walla and portraits set into the panel
lng; he had no fear of what his uncle
might Bay, for he was not merely the
young nephew and ward living in hie
uncle's house—he was the owner of
most of the acres which made the
plantation a great one. Colonel Hamp-
ton considered that in his treatment
of Harry, and Harry knew it well
enough. Moreover, it was an Unspok-
en secret that Harry or Lucy hald the
right of strength over weakness in
dealing with the head of the house.
Obstinacy combined sometimes with
weaknese, it is true, but yet the two
youngsters understood clearly that the
colonel was the head only by a grace-
ful fiction. So young Henry Hampton
felt no alarm at the quality of hla
uncle's tone. The colonel sat down in
the biggest chair, a chair throne-like
In its dignity; he faced the lad and
pulled importantly at the end of his
mustache.
"This troop of cavalry about organ
lxed?" he demanded.
"Well, that's rather a big name for
It, Uncle Henry, but It la going like
streak," answered Henry, junior. "W
meet again today, and tomorrow
think we shall begin business."
"1 approve of It," Colonel Hampton
stated.
Harry bowed his head gravely. The
colonel went on.
It Is a well-bred and appropriate
method of amusement A gentleman
should know something of military af-
fairs. But—ah—the ranking and—
ah—arrangements? Such—details are
not unlikely with gentlemen of the
first families, aa you all are—except
one—to crystallize into a—later impor-
tance. The man who has been the
leader of this company of very young
men will not unlikely be the man
thought of aa a leader In—ah—affairs
of greater moment to come. May
Inquire who Is the captain?"
Henry Hampton looked troubled.
Impatient
"Why. nobody yet. Uncle Henry. We
have not got to that But of course,
the Chevalier—'"
Colonel Hampton Interrupted him
"Exactly. I thought ao. That la what
I wish to avoid. The Chevalier must
not be the captain."
The hoy canght np the worda hotly,
"Uncle Henry, be has done it all. We
all want him."
"Exactly. But you must not have
him. 1 am surprised at you, Henry
Do you remember that thla man
peasant-born? Do you want to be led
Into battle by a person whose rank
la not above that of our own serv-
wlll not deny. I am quite surprised
his success. But when It comes to
putting him In a position above men
birth, my blood revolts. I request
you, Henry, to use your Influence
against this. I can not endure to have
him give you commands. You should be
the captain, because your social posi-
tion has made the enterprise possible.
But yet, If—your misfortune—if some
other seems more fit—" A painful color
darkened tbe boy's face and his brows
gathered. The colonel went on. "I
should make no objection to that. But"
again he pulled at the corners of hla
mustache with solemnity—"I must re-
quest you to use your Influence abso-
lutely to prevent this parvenu from
being placed over you."
Harry Hampton put his hand on the
table beside htm and lifting himself
with that aid stood before his uncle,
leaning a little on the table as hla
lame foot made it necessary, but yet
figure full of decision and dignity.
"And I must refuse absolutely.
Uncle Henry, to do anything of the
kind. I am not In question. As you
say, I have—a misfortune. I shall use
what Influence I have to see that the
Chevalier Beaupre Is made captain of
the company he has organised and is
to educate. This is fitting. I
proud to call him my friend, and I am
glad that I am large-minded enough to
realize that aa large a mind as his is
not to be measured by petty standarda.
If he 1b a prince or If he la a peasant
is quite Immaterial, because be ia first
very great thing—hlmaelf." He
turned from the astonished colonel,
and with his halting step was gone.
Shortly the young master's horse
was ordered and he had left word with
Ebenezer, the butler, aa he went out
that he would not be home till bed
time, and waa off toward Carnifax.
Francois," he began, finding hla
friend busy over his papers In that
same library, at that same carved ma-
hogany desk, where today He the pack-
agea of old letters—"Francois, I want
to apeak to you—about something—be-
fore our meeting."
"What then? The boy Is out of
breath. You have been running Black
Hawk again, my Henry—that horae
will complain of you soon, the strong
beast. What le It you are In such
hurry to say that one must race across
country so of a good hour of the morn-
ing?"
But Henry was too Intent to talk
nothings. "It is important," he said
briefly. "We must have a captain for
the company at once, and it must be
you."
Sabre de bois!" smiled Francois ra-
diantly. "The good idea! I can not
imagine a fellow more beautiful to be
a captain than I. Can you?"
But Henry was altogether serious-
minded. "You will consent then?" he
threw at him. "I did not think of it
till this morning, but I see it should
be done at once. We shall all want
you, of course, and want nobody else.
Now Henry Hampton, not having
thought of the question till this morn-
ing, had no right to make this state-
ment in a full round voice of certainty.
Yet he knew every man in the com-
pany, and he felt in himeelf the force
to answer for them. He answered
for them without a hesitation. And
with that Francola* laughing face grew
grave. He pushed the letters from him
and got up and came across to the boy
and bent and put his arm around hla
shoulder as he sat still and stiff.
These French waya of hia friend
pleased Henry lmmenaely, but they
also petrified him with embarrass-
ment Francola was not in the least
embarrassed. He patted the broad
young shoulder affectionately.
"My good Henry," he said gently
"What a loyal heart—and what a reck
lesa one! How then can you answer
for all those messieurs?"
Harry flung up his head and began
"They will—if they do not I shall make
them"—but Francois stopped the bold
words.
"No." he said quietly—yet with
tone of finality which the other recog-
nized. "That will not be necessary. And
the messieurs are my good friends
they will treat me with honor; they
will be better to me than I deserve,
know that well." There were so few
people in the world who did not
Francois, aeem hia good friends. "Bat
my Henry, I win not be tbe captain.
I have thought of that. If you have not
Look here.'
He swung to tha desk and slipped
out a drawer, and had a long folded
paper la hia hands. He flapped It
open before Harry's eyea. It waa a
formal notice to Mr. Henry Hampton,
junior, that the Jefferson troop of Vir-
ginia had elected him as Ita captain.
Harry fiuahed violent!.* and bla
mouth quivered with pleasure, with
aervoeaneaa, with nahapplasaa
other watched him eagerly. All thto
affair of the troop he had done to
give pleasure to Harry Hampton, bla
friend. It waa the only way In which
the lame boy could be on equal term*
with the other boys, and Francola had
determined from tha firat that every
joy which could be gleaned out ot
it he should have. To-be the captala
ought to be a Joy.
"I!" Harry cried and then waa silent
—and then spoka sorrowfully. "But—
It can not be!"
"Can not be?" demanded Francois.
Why not?"
There waa a moment'a silence and
with a painful effort the words cam*.
My—misfortune. I am lame."
And Francois cried out, "Henry—all
that Is nonsense! What of It? It la
thing you do as well aa the beat—
riding. Who has such a seat, such
handa aa you? Why not then, I de-
mand?" And went on. "It la settled.^
have talked to them all—aee tbe sig-
natures. You are the captain, my
Henry—and I am your right hand and
your left hand—yea and your feet too,
whenever you need me."
"But," aald Harry, dazed, "It la really
your place; don't you want to be cap-
tain?" he ahot at the other boyishly.
And with that Francois' arm waa
about bis shoulder again aa tha twe
stood together, and Francois ' waa
laughing. "But yea," he aald. "I
should like it That la a secret." Hla
face waa brilliant with laughter. 'Ton
only may know, my Henry, that I am
vain—ah. very vain," he repeated sad-
Never tell It I love titles and
honors and Importance. 1 like to be
called Chevalier—though Indeed that
my right" he added with a quick
touch of dignity. "And I should like
very much to be captain of this com-
pany of fine young men, the flowere—
does one say?—of the South. But it
not best." He held up his forefinger
and looked enormously worldly-wiee.
No. You would not mind; the youac
messieurs would not mind, perhaps—
but tbe fathers—ah, the fathera!" He
threw back hla head and gased at the
celling with eyea of horror. Then with
start and a hand flung out "And tbe
mothers! Mon Dleu! But the moth-
ers, Henry! They would make—what
you call It—a h—I ot a time, Is it not?"
Harry roared with Joy at the terri-
fied whisper. "But I have neither t
ther nor mother," he suggested.
"Ah, Henry," argued Francois with
deep satisfaction in hia tone, "that
makes you bo suitable."
"Suitable!" Inquired Henry.
"But yes, my friend. It kills jeal-
ousy. All is grist, one says, that
comes to your mill. All is fathera.
all Is mothers to the poor orphan—and
besides that, there ia Monsieur the
Colonel. One sees that the uncle of
the captain will be contented. And
whom should I wish to content but my
first host my first benefactor In thla
land? I believe, Indeed, he would he
displeased if I should take the place.
1 believe he is not satisfied ot my
birth."
And beneath the nonsense of Fra
coie, Henry could but acknowledge the
He Flapped It Open Before Harry"e
Eyea.
clear-sighted logic. So It happened
that Henry Hampton became captain
ot the Jefferson Troop, to tbe entire
satisfaction of all concerned.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
My Lady'a Mirror.
Exercise Is a splendid skin tonic.
A brisk walk, no matter if in the rala.
will freshen the complexion, evea ae
It freahena the flowere. and a simple
aperient will do wonders tor a muddy
skin. It remalna for all women to
preserve such beauty aa they have
and to cure the defects which are
cellar to them or that time wae
wrought Cvery akin to different ud
must he treated accordingly, and It
takes a reasoning woman to experi-
ment carefully and find out the prop-
er method ot treatment for her akta.
Moat women, whether they be
fleshy or thin, walk far too little. The
woman who tenda to he fleshy should
walk for at leeat an hour every day.
and de II regularly and systematic-
ally. Aa abe gets accustomed to the
exercise abe should Increase the num-
ber of miles aba walks a day
Tbe I abe to delng Eve mllaa.-
■as
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The Inola Register. (Inola, Okla.), Vol. 8, No. 28, Ed. 1 Thursday, February 19, 1914, newspaper, February 19, 1914; Inola, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc180623/m1/3/: accessed March 29, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.