The Hooker Advance. (Hooker, Okla.), Vol. 9, No. 48, Ed. 1 Friday, January 3, 1913 Page: 2 of 8
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Aufhor of
Oy Place
Cajfri Hr i, J5*tc.
niu*tr*tio « l *j
Ellsworth "Youn<£
CopyrigfiX.llW, by IXAj^pUtor. 8- Company
SYNOPSIS.
Mr*. Kezlah Coffin, supposed widow, la
srrtoged to move from Trumet to Bos-
ton. following the death of her brother,
for whom she had kept house. ^yan
Pepper, widower, offers marriage, and Is
Indignantly' refused. Capt. Elkanah Dan-
iels. leader of the Regular church offers
Kezlah a place as housekeeper for the
new minister, and she decides to remain
In Trumet. Kezlah takes charge of Rev.
John Ellery. the new minister, and Rives
him advice as to his conduct toward
members of the parish. Ellery causes a
sensation by attending a "Come-outer
meeting. KUery's presence is bitterly re-
sented by Eben Hammond, leader of the
meeting. Grace apologizes for her
guardian and Ellery escorts her home in
the rain. Capt. Nat Hammond. Eben s
•on, becomes a hero by bringing the
packet Into port safely through fos and
■torm. Ellery finds Kezlah writing a let-
ter to some one. Inclosing money In re-
sponse to a demand. She Is curiously
startled when Informed of the arrival or
Nat Nat calls on Kezlah. and It devel-
ops that they have been lovers since
youth. Daniels remonstrates with Ellery
for attending "Come-outer" meeting. K'-
lery is caught by the tide and Is rescued
by Nat. They become friends. Ellery
meets Grace while walking In the fields,
and learns that she walks there every
Sunday. The clergyman takes dinner
Sundays with the Daniels. Annabel, the
captain's daughter, exerts herself to
make an Impression on him. She no-
tices with vexation his desire to get away
•very Sunday at a certain time. She
watches him through a spy glass. Nat
again importunes Kezlah to marry him.
He says he has had a quarrel with his
father, who wants him to marry Grace.
Ellery asks Grace to marry him. She
confesses that she loves him. bui "ay®
•he fears to displease her guardian. El-
kanah Daniels tells Eben about the meet-
ings between Ellery and Grace. Eben
declares he will make Grace choose be-
tween him and the preacher. Grace finds
him In a faint, following the excitement
of Elkanah's vlalt
r
CHAPTER XI.—(Continued.)
"Well, doctor?" she asked anxiously.
The stout, gray-haired old physician
—he had practiced in Trumet for near-
ly thirty years—shook his head.
"Not a single chance," he whispered.
"He may possibly live till morning,
but I doubt If he lasts an hour. It's
his heart. I've expected it at any
time."
Captain Nat was standing at the
door 'of the bedroom. His face was
drawn and he had seemingly grown
years older since noon.
"He's come lo himself, doc," he
whispered. "He don't remember how
It happened or anything. And he
wants us all. Why! why, Kezlah! are
you here? You can come In, too. I
know dad likes you and I guess—
Wait a minute; I'll ask him" He
stepped back into the bedroom. "Yes,"
he nodded, returning, "you come, too.
He wants you."
The little room, Captain Eben's own,
was more like a skipper's cabin than
a chamber on land. In the corner
stood the captain's big boots and his
oilskins bung about them. His Sun-
day cane was there also. And on the
bureau was a worn, heavy Bible
i Dr. Parker brushed by the others
and bent over the bed.
"Well, cap'n," he said cheerily,
"how's she headed? How are you feel-
ing now?"
The old face on the pillow smiled
feebly.
"She's headed for home, I guess,
doc." said Captain Eben. "Bound for
home, and the harbor light broad
abeam, I cal'late."
"Oh, no! you'll make a good many
voyages yet."
"Not in this hulk, I won't, doctor,
hope I'll have a new command pretty
soon. I'm trustin' In my owners and I
guess they'll do the fair thing by me,
Halloo. Gracie. girl! Well, your old
uncle's on his beam ends, ain't he?"
Grace glanced fearfully at his face.
When he spoke her name she shrank
back, as if she feared what he might
say. But he only smiled as. with the
tears streaming down her face, she
bent over and kissed him.
"There! there!" he protested. "You
mustn't cry. What are you cryln'
about me for? I'm fit and ready for
the sea I'm goin' to sail." Hii eyes
wandered from his son to Mrs. Coffin
For an Ins'ant he seemed puzzled.
Then be said
" 'Evenln.' Kezlah. I don't know
a by you're here, but—"
"I heard that Grace was alone and
that you was sick, Eben. So 1 come
right down, to help If 1 could."
"Thank ye. You're a good-hearted
woman. Keziah. even though you ain't
seen the true light yet. And you're
housekeeper for that hired priest—a—
a—" He paused, and a troubled look
came over his face.
"What is it. dad?" asked Nat.
"1—|— Where's Grade? She's her*,
ain't she?**
"Yes, uncle, I'm bere. Here I am."
said the girl His lingers groped for
her hand ^nd seized It
"Yes. yes. you'ra here." murmured
Captain Eben. "I—I—for a minute or
ao. I—I bad an awful dream about you.
Grade. I dreamed— Never mind.
Doc. answer me this now. true and
honest, man to man: Can you keep
Be bere for Just a little spell longer?
Can you? Try! Tao minutes. say.
Can you?"
-Of couras I —n Cap'n Hammond,
what are you—"
"Belay. I ten you Yea. I guess 'twas
a dream It had U he. but twaa ao
•ort of real that I— How long hare
1 been this way?"
"Oh. a little whOa! Now Just—'
-Hash! Dost pun yoor bsod ■wsy.
Oracle. Nat. give me youra. That's
It. Now I put them two hands to-
gether. See, doctor? See. Keziah?"
"Don't, uncle, don'ti" pleaded Grace.
"Don't worry about me. Think of
yourself, please."
"S-sh-sh! Don't put me off. Just
listen. I want you to marry my boy.
after I'm gone. I want you to say you
will—say it now, so's I can hear it.
Will you, Gracie?"
Grace would have withdrawn her
hand, but he would not let her. He
clung to it and to that of his son with
all his failing strength.
"Will you, GVacie?" he begged. "It's
the last thing I'm goln' to ask of you.
I've tried to be sort of good to you.
in my way, and—"
"Don't, don't!" she sobbed. "Let me
think a minute, uncle, dear. Oh, do
let me think!"
'Won't you say it for me, Gracie?"
pleaded Captain Eben. She hesitated
no longer.
"Yes, uncle," she answered through
tears, "If Nat wants me he can have
me."
Keziah clasped her hands. Captain
Eben s face lit up with a great Joy.
"Thank the Almighty!" be ex-
claimed. "Lord, I do thank you Nat,
boy, you're consider'ble older than she
Is and you'll have to plan for her. You
be a good husband to her all her days,
won't ye? Why, what are you waitln'
for? Why don't you answer me?"
Nat groaned aloud.
"A minute dad." he stammered.
"Just give me a minute, for Heaven
sakes! Keziah—"
"Kezlah!" repeated Eben. "Kezlah?
What are you talkin' to her for? She
knows there couldn't be no better
match in the world. You do know it,
don't ye. Kezlah?"
"Yes," said Keziah slowly. "I guess
—I guess you're right, Eben."
"Keziah Coffin," cried Nat Ham-
mond, "do you tell me to marry
Grace?"
"Yes, Nat, I—I think your father's
right."
"Then—then—what difference does
— All right, dad. Just as Grace says."
"Thank God!" cried Captain Eben.
"Doctor, you and Mrs. Coffin are wit-
nesses to this. There! now my decks
are clear and I'd better get ready to
land. Gracie, girl, the Good Book's
over there on the bureau. Read me a
chapter, won't you?"
An hour later Kezlah sat alone in
the dining room. She had stolen away
when the reading began. Dr. Parker,
walking very softly, came to her and
laid his hand on her shoulder.
"He's gone." he said simply.
CHAPTER XII.
rest, yourself. We don't need you any
more Just now. Now you go home.
You've had a hard night, like fhe rest
of us." *
How hard he had no idea. And Ke-
ziah, as she wearily entered the par-
sonage, realized that the morning
*«ould be perhaps the hardest Of all.
For upon her rested the responsibility
of seeing that the minister's secret
was kept. And she. and no other,
must break the news to him.
The dining room was dark and
gloomy. She lighted the lamp. Then
she heard a door open and Ellery's
voice, as he called down the stairs.
"Who is it?" he demanded. "Mrs.
Coffin?"
She was startled. "Yes," she said
softly, after a moment. "Yes, Mr. El-
lery, it's me."
"It's morning," said the minister.
"Are you sick? Has anything hap-
pened?"
"Yes," she answered slowly, "some-
thin' has happened. Are you dressed?
Could you come down?"
He replied that he would be down
in a moment. When he came he
found her standing by the table wait-
ing for him. The look of her face in
the lamplight shocked him.
"Why, Mrs. Coffin!" he exclaimed.
"What is it? You look as if you had
been through some dreadful experi-
ence."
Her heart went out to him. She
held out both her hands.
"You poor boy," she cried, "I'm try-
ing to tell you one of the hardest
things a body can tell. Yes, some one
Is dead, but that ain't all. Eben Ham-
mond, poor soul, is out of his troubles
and gone."
"Eben Hammond! Captain Eben?
Dead! Why, why—"
"Yes, Eben's gone. He was took
down sudden and died about ten
o'clock last night. I was there and—"
"Captain Eben d?ad! Why, he was
as well as—as— She said— Oh, I
must go! I must go at once!"
He was on his way to the door, but
she held It shut
"No," she said gravely, "you mustn't
go. John—you won't mind me callln'
you John. I'm old enough, pretty nigh,
to be your mother, and I've come to
feel almost as If I was. John, yoijfve
got to stay here with me. You can't
go to that bouse. You can't go to
her."
"Mrs. Coffin, what are you saying?
Do you know— Have you—"
"Yes, 1 know all about It. I know
about the meetin's in the pines and
all. Oh, why didn't you trust me and
tell me? If you had, all would have
been so much better!"
He looked at her in utter amaze-
ment The blood rushed to his face.
"You know that?" he whispered.
"Yes, I know."
"Did she tell—"
"No, nobody told. That is, only a
little. 1 got a hint and I suspicloned
somethin' afore. The rest I savjr with
my own eyes."
He was now white, but his Jaw shot
forward and his teeth closed.
"If you do know," he said, "you
must realize that my place is with
her. Now, when she is in trouble—"
"It ain't the congregation, John,"
she said "Nor Trumet. nor your min-
istry. That means more'n you think
it does, now: but it ain't that. You
mustn't go to her because—well, be-
cause she don't want you to."
"Doesn't want me? I know better."
He laughed in supreme scorn.
"She doesn't want you, John. She
wouldn't see you if you went She
she must rest or he wns afraid her
brain would give out. For her sake,
then, wait a little. Then, if you don't
hear from her, maybe I can arrange a
meetln' plaoe where you can see ber
wlthcr.it anyone's knowin' It. I'll try.
But do wait a little while, for her
sake, won't you?"
At last he was listening and hesi-
tating.
"Won't you?" begged Keziah.
"Yes." he answered slowly. "I'll
wait. I'll wait until noon, somehow, if
I can. I'll try. But not a minute
later. Not one. You don't know what
you're talking about, Mrs. Coffin."
"Yes, I do. I know well. And I
thank you for her sake."
But he did not have to wait until
noon. At six o'clock, through the dew-
soaked grass of the yard, came the
Higgins boy. For the first time in his
short life he had been awake all night
and he moved slowly.
The housekeeper opened the door.
Ike held up an envelope, clutched in a
grimy hand.
"It's for you, Mrs. Keziah," he said.
"Gracie she sent it. There ain't no
answer."
Mrs. Coffin closed the door and tore
open the envelope. Within was an-
other addressed, in Grace's handwrit-
ing, to Mr. Ellery. The housekeeper
entered the study, handed it to him
and turned away.
"Dear John," wrote Grace. "I pre-
sume Aunt Kezlah has told you of
uncle's death and of my promise to
Nat. It is true. I am going to marry
him. I am sure this is right and for
the best. Our friendship was a mis-
take and you must not see me again.
Please don't try.
"GRACE VAN HORNE."
Beneath was another paragraph.
"Don't worry about me. I shall be
happy. I am sure. And I shall hope
that you may be. I shall pray for
that."
The note fell to the floor with a
ADVERTISING
TALKS
"John, What Are "You Going to Do?"
rustle that sounded loud In the still-
ness. Then Keziah heard the minis-
ter's step. She turned. He was mov-
ing slowly across the room.
"John, what are you goin' to do?"
He shook his head. "I don't know,"
he said. "Go away somewhere, first
of all, I guess. Go somewhere and—
and try to live It down. I can't, of
course, but I must try."
She put out her hand. "I know it'll
be hard," she said, "stayin' here, I
mean. But your duty to others—"
"Don't you think we've heard enough
THE GARRULOUS AD
By GLEN BUCK.
Is there under the clear canopy of
the blue sky a greater bore than the
long-winded salesman?
If there is, 1 haven't yet discover-
ed him.
It is not so much the ability to say
the right thing, as to know when one
has said enough—that marks the pro-
ducer from the pest.
Words are so much cheaper than
ideas, that the yokel uses them to cov-
er a multitude of deficiencies—and he
rambles on until the order is lost.
Persistency is a splendid sale pro-
ducer—but too much of it is nothing
less than calamity.
The long-winded s'alesman and the
long-winded advertisement are of the
same ilk—only the long-winded sales-
man has the advantage that he can
force his victim to—stop—look—lis-
ten.
But the advertisement must passive-
ly wait for the buyer's attention.
The story of the creation is told in
a paragraph, yet, lo! It takes a
page crowded full of six-point ro-
man to tell the prosaic story of a
cake of yeast.
Words — words—words—they are
tiresome and clumsy things when han-
dled by one who doesn't know how.
A Voltaire or a Kipling couldn't pos-
sibly keep a reader's interest through
a column of fine type, with the story
of a pair of sox or a breakfast food.
Then why should the advertising
man try?
The fact is. the long-winded adver-
tisement writer is following the fash-
ion set by the patent medicine man.
who has had a bunco game to play,
and who was forced to drown the
crieB of his victims in a flood of
words.
Ruts are readily made—and they
are easy to follow—but they some
times get to be as deep as graves.
I had rather get into a possible buy-
er's mind three essential words re
garding the thing I have for sale
than to fog his mind with all the non-
essentials in the language.
Balzac once wrote a friend, saying,
"1 haven't time to write you a short
letter, so I'll write you a long one."
He knew that the ability to discrim-
inate between essentials and non-es-
sentials is a fine and time-consum-
ing art.
The long-winded advertisement usu-
ally defeats its own purpose, and too
often it starts out with nothing to say
and succeeds in saying it in the
most tiresome and uninteresting way.
That it sometimes "makes good"
is not due to its form, but to the
fact that all advertising is good—
only some of it is better.
Sheer boredom may accomplish
a little, but there's an easier and
better way.
In Which Keziah Breaks the News.
It was nearly five o'clock, gray dawn
Z2X> =-Ho;-«««|« find quick sales are best
lifted the latch and entered the par- tin sure. She would. And if you duty to myself.
Lnarp All nleht she had been busy didn't go when she sent you. you j "1 guess that's the last thing we
at the Hammond tavern. Busy with I wouldn't be the man I hope you are ought to think about in the world. If
tL doctor and th^ undertaker who John, you mustn't see Grace again, j we do try to be fair and square. Your
had been called from his bed by young ' She ain't yours. She belongs to some church thinks a heap of you John
with Grace, soothing ! one else. I They build on you. You ve done more
Modern Merchandising Means Turn-
ing Goods Over Weekly Instead of
Yearly as Formerly.
Higgins: busy with Grace, soothing ;
her. comforting her as bes' she could. I "John. Grace Van Home is goin to
and petting her as a mother might marry Cap'n Nat Hammond. There.
~,t n stricken child. The poor girl that's the livin' truth."
She led him over to the rocking-
pet a stricken child. The poor girl
was on the verge of prostration, and
from hysterical spasms of sobs and
weeping passed to stretches oT silent,
dry-eyed agony which were harder to
witness and much more to be feared.
"It is all my fault," she repeated
over and over again. "All my fault!
chair and gently forced him into it. He
obeyed, although with no apparent
in the little while you've been here
than Mr. Langley did In his last fifteen
years."
"You've never been asked to sit
quietly by and see the one you love
more than all the world marry some
realization of what he was doing. Still one else."
with her hand on his shoulder she j "How do you know I ain't? How do
went on speaking. She told htm of j you know I ain't doln" Just that now?"
her visit to the Hammond tavern, say- ] "Mrs. Coffin!"
ing nothing of Mr. Pepper's call nor
of her own experience in the grove.
She told of Captain Eben's seizure, of
what the doctor said, and of the old
Come-Outer's return to consciousness.
Then Bbe described the scene In the
Most merchants have found that It
is better to handle goods expeditiously
at small profit than to drag them out
over a long season even at greater
prices. So that modern merchandis-
ing has come to be a matter of the
weekly turning over of the stock,
rather than a yearly proposition, as
used to be the case. .
Merchants have also found that the I news story in the Sun of Williams
quickest way to dispose of a stock of Port, but in the editorial columns the
goods is through the advertising col- I editor approve of the enterprise of
inina i m a nume.y u.u wuul.u, v— "'«nB of the Uailv newspapers They j R*J- Mr. ^®POn*''
,hiv set in mv wavs as an elght-dav have founu it the least expensive way b,e for thp advertisement. and sug
clock. I luesa I look like it and act of disposing of goods, and that m^ans that there ,8 a wing appre-
that the patron is benefited by the ad- elation of the value of church adver-
rertiaing in the newspapers. For the | tlslng
CHURCH ADVERTISING
RAPIDLY SPREADING
The few venturesome souls who
first tried in the daily press to ad-
vertise churches, and religion in gen-
eral, have found not only that their
efforts have been well rewarded by
increased attendance at the churches
in behalf of which the advertising
campaigns were conducted, but tnere
has been more and more approval or
their conduct by the religious press
as well as by the dally press.
the Continent, the national Presbyte-
rian weekly.
The papers of Philadelphia, among
those In other parts of the country,
during the last year or so have
shown a marked Increase of interest
in church affairs and a growing eager-
ness to print church news. The ad-
vertisements of churches are also
solicited by the business offices or
daily papers.
The St. Louis Star in a recent dou-
ble column editorial suggests that
the requests which churches have
made in the past for publicity in con-
nection with campaigns to raise
money for new buildings might be
extended so that churches would ad-
vertise to bring in souls as well as
dollars. Says this editorial in refer-
ring to intimations from churches
that they would like Bpace: "Such re-
quests are not made often enough to
please the newspaper. All editors
would be willing to do still more for
the churches." The further construe-
tive suggestion is made that If a
churches are comfortable, with har-
monious decorations, so that the mini,
is not frozen while the attempt is
being made to warm the spirit, and
if such churches are advertised, thea-
ters and social clubs will at least
have a real competitor.
The Continent was one of the first
publications to advocate publicity
and advertising by churches, and dur-
ing the last year and a half has
printed a number of articles telling
of the progress of church advertising
and has suggested new plans. At the
time the report of the publicity com-
mission of the men and religion for-
ward movement was issued, William
T. Ellis, editor afield of the Conti-
nent, had a comprehensive review of
the religious advertising situation up
to that time. Mr. Ellis told how
illuminated signs had been used
along Broadway to attract the inter-
est of the citizens of New York to
the church of their prefernce during
the activities of the forward move
ment last spring. In fact, no other
religious paper has gone into the sub-
ject of church advertising as has the
Continent, and its suggestions of pos-
sible advertisements and the advan-
tages of using them have stimulated
more than one church to utilize this
means of bringing people in to hear
the gospel.
In a summary of the religious ad-
vertising of churches the Universal-
is! says that Rev. W. D. Buchanan,
pastor of the Universalist church at
Tacoma, has used full page advertise-
ments in the Sunday papers and as a
result his church has been crowded.
Rev. Aquilla Webb of Warren Me-
morial church, Louisvlle, Ky., has
been quoted as saying that he solved
the difficulty of filling his church
Sunday evenings by advertising In
the daily press.
The display advertisements of
churches in the Public Ledger news-
paper of Philadelphia are commented
upon and approved by the Lutheran.
West End church of New York city
has used posters in a subway station
near the church. These have an-
nounced the subjects of coming ser-
mons and have had an influence In
attracting additional members of the
congregation.
Some weeks ago the Continent pub-
lished an item concerning the half
page advertisement of First church
of Williamsport, Pa. This notice by
the Continent not only obtained «i
"John Ellery. you listen to me. You
think I'm a homely old woman, prob-
llke It. But I ain't so awful old—on
the edge of forty, that's all. And
I si^k room and how Nat and Grace had when l was your age I want bo awful '.expense of selling goods must be Ministers in many parts of the
«.. . > _ a * I l k.. . I. ~ ~ I i # 1 . ... V> a trln/l /I R n i t A /lit
pliKhted troth, He listened, at first homely, either. I had fellert aplenty
stunned and Btolld. then with grow- j hangin' round and I could have mar-
ing Impatience. ried any one of a dozen. Tbla atn't
"So you see," she said. "It's settled; boastin'; land knows I'm fur from
they're engaged, and Dr. Parker will that. I was brought up in this town
j tell everybody of the engagement this | an(j even when I was a girl at school
very moixln . It wan't any great sur- | there was only one boy I cared t\
straws about. He and I went to pic-
nics together and to parties and every-
where. Folks used to laugh and say
we was keepln' comp'ny, even then
"Well, when 1 was eighteen, after fa-
ther died. I went up to New Bedford
to work in a store there. Wanted to
earn my own way. And this young
feller I'm tellin' you about went away
to sea. but every time he come home
from a voyage he come to see me and
things went on that way till we was
promised to each other. The engage
ment wa'n't announced, but 'twas so.
Just the same. We'd have been mar
ried In another year. And then w«
quarreled.
" "Twras a fool quarrel, same as thai
kind generally art. As much my fault
as his and as much his as mine. I cal'
You "«ay she doesnt want me. I tell | late. Anyhow, we was both proud, ot
Dr Paraer was very j (bct fbe o,jfy thing that will keep | thought we was. and neither would
-She mu.t rest, he told Mrs Cof- ^ M „ be,rtnj? lhlt from h#r ,tT# ln. And he says to me. Youll be
borne by the customer and if It costs country who have tried definite dis-
less to sell goods through newspaper play announcements of regular and
advertising than otherwise, the tner special church services have found
chant who uses the newspaper can ! that they have Increased their at
afford to sell cheaper than the mer-
chant who does not use the newspa-
per
tendance, and as a natural concom-
itant the financial support has also
increased. This has brought about
1 prise to me. Those who have been
brought up together, 'twas the natu-
ral thing that was almost bound to
happen. Eben's heart was set on It
for years. And she II have a good
husband, John, that I know And shell
do her best to make him happy. He's
; a good man and—"
I "But 1 know—"
"Do you suppose she would come
to you If she knew it would be your
' ruin?"
I He hesitated. The last time they
"Keziah Coffinl" Cried Nat Hammond. me, B(jea before—no. only the prevl-
• Do You Tell Me to Marry Gracsr j ou,' afternoon—she bad told him It
I killed him! I killed him. Aunt Ke
zlah! What shall 1 do? Oh. why
couldn't I have died Instead? It would
have be«n so much better, better for
everybody."
Dr Parker was very anxious
was his happiness and his future only
j that she thought of. He choked and
| drew bis hand across his eyes.
"Mrs. Coffin." be said, "you tell me
| It will be ber ruin. You tell me so.
The hand-bill merchant of the olden general enthusiasm for church work
days paid a tremendous price to bring and has had a reflex' effect upon the
the facts concerning his goods before pastors, as well as people, which has
the attention of the consumer, for the i been decidedly beneficial
hand-bill process Is a more cumber-1 \
fin She must, or her Dialsiwlll gl s when sbe tells me to leave sorry after I'm gone You'll wish me
■ay ImfoiuK to give beT , aMl ct Wfo^" back, then.' And say. I. b*iu t fool,
to make her deep and you must g tsH you. John; shell tell you I I guess not. There s other fish «n the
and a more expensive one than I
the new&pai>er route. So it Is safe to
say that even at this late day the
hand bill merchant Is not able to sell j
goods as cheaply as is the merchant
who uses newspaper space
Advertiae to Create Business
There are two purposes for adver-
tising. One of them, of course, is to
direct existing business to you in
preference to your neighbor The
other, and by far the greater and
more Important and more promising
field, is Just beginning to be under-
stood. and that is the effect which
proper advertising unquestionably
has In creating business that did not
ni t before
a .. i..t r™, . And I know Grace She's made up fcer I sea.' He sailed and I did wis* hla
-.1°, w £ V while ®,nd *OB't 11 0ut 1 do : b*ck- but 1 woc,dn t wrtt* fB* «<!
i « liLetM* uneasily and with uk 1 JO%> 00110 «° DOW either would he And then cows a
*** ******* TTt I Walt a llttl. while, do. I left her , other man "
moans and sobbings, hut alsepltg. nev | von] ^ by what she's been She paused, hesitated, and then coe
'n_through and under the effects of the | tinned
Her Idea of Lawyer*
Patience—This paper says ths( law
ye«« are said to show a larger proper
(ion of bald heads than men of any
other profession
Patrice—The Idea' Of all men In
'be world who ought to hide their
hruds. I should think It was the law
yers
Newspaper Advertising Paya
The following statement has been
issued by the management of a Chi-
cago theater:
"Under the new policy of advertis-
ing exclusively In the newspapers,
business continues to improve Each
week since the houae abolished hill
posting the box office receipts have
gained steadily, and the business for
the current attraction shows a bigger
gain than haa been attained since the
management decided to try out' th*
newspapers exclusively. This is the
first time a theater has placed Itself
In the position of depending entire-
ly on newspaper space for its adver
tlsements and the successful outcome
Is causing a widespread comment
Many observers believe It means the
eventual doom of theatrical bill post
In*"
Sugar Beet Industry.
Sugar beet growing Is proving us
successful In England that It Is pre
dieted that England -111 before many
veara produce its own sugar supply-
t
t
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Hiebert, A. L. The Hooker Advance. (Hooker, Okla.), Vol. 9, No. 48, Ed. 1 Friday, January 3, 1913, newspaper, January 3, 1913; Hooker, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc272446/m1/2/: accessed April 26, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.