Renfrew's Record. (Alva, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 3, No. 50, Ed. 1 Thursday, October 20, 1904 Page: 3 of 10
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A Question of Memory.'
Tbe Eminent Note ist was In 4
Hood. For come minutes now let i sJ
been regarding rather blankly th. J
equal'}’ blank shei-ts of |*per lying b |
fore him on bis df>k. it was a Jqtu J
morning and, somehow, memories . [
another June morning, far 08 in th.
long ago, obtruded.
Mayhap it was the bright sunshue
Streaming in through the open London
window, filling the air with dam . ,
thoughts, that made our novelist s
retrospective- a—nd id.e. He had .
his mind vaguely a vision of that Ju
morning in a Iievon cider orehr
when, in the eternal egotism of yout
he had talk* d and she had listo..<
When, haif fearfully, he had touch
the mysteries of love.
Long ago—oh, very long ago! Bless
me—what aus the gin a name? t ii
had hud n liculous ideas lnrompi.l.hn
with a hurry. round face, and such in.
pertinent n d hair- the Eminent Novel-
ist recollected. Her lather had own. u
the cider orchard, and many others
What was the name! SampforU, of
Wlddecombe, or Dehhyhouse?
N t any of them a bit like it. FU
was a tuemory nothing more. 1 li
Eminent Nove..st sighed. Times had
changed since then. Now he was—
well, famous, in a sort of way. Thai
is, he had 110 worldly, sordid troubli s.
A discreet tap ut the door disturbed
these more comfortable reflections, it
was the page boy,
"Please, sir, u lady,"
“Yee?”
“Won't give her name, sir. Wants
to see you very particular. Has called
twice already—"
"Ask her to be good enough to come
in,’’ Interrupted the Eminent Novel-
ist, with a faint hope of copy rising
a-ithin him. Those blank sheets were
reproachful !
A moment later a girl rustled into
ihe sanctum. She was dressed in vlo-
1st voile, made in ths extreme of fash-
ion, with a great black feathery hat
•n her well-poised head. She appeared
Very much at ease, and smiled affably
enough toward the Eminent Novelist.
‘ You must forgive my ’boarding'you
like this, she began graciously. "1
haven't sent the carriage away, so you
cau imagine that 1 won t really detain
you.” The Novelist indicated a seat
and bowed. “Thanks, awfully. I see
I have disturbed you. * • • Well, to
the point, then, at once. I have come
to talk about your books. Your last
one is a distinct falling away.”
The Novelist sank into his round-
backed chair, and waited in silence.
‘ Oh, I know it's unusual and all that,
for one to speak ones opinion fn the
open, the girl went on, airily. She had
a perfume of violets about her, and a
pretty trick of dimpling her cheeks
The Novelist seemed to have remem-
bered having seen something like 11
before. Very frank eyes she had, a id
gleaming halt, and a nice sense of g s-
ture. Altogether the Novelist found it
in him to overlook her impudence.
“I have read all your bocks, doa t
you know,” continued the girl, sudden-
ly becoming serious. “And. in a man
Her, I have rather gone In for them. A
woman's first enthusiasm sort of thing
• • • Tailing In love with a por-
trait’ idea. You understand?'
“I think so.” (He rather flattered
himself on comprehending the sex!)
“Well, honestly, you know—you're
not doing yourself justice. I won't say
you're pot-boiling exactly; but, at anv
rate, you’re lighting the fire prepara-
tory to it. Now, I’m Eorry—and so arc
the heaps of people, who—who care,
don't you know.”
“It's very good of you.”
“Not at all. As I said, one has idea's
and things in one’s youth." (The Nov-
elist admitted that 1 "You're rather
my Idea!—or you were 1 can prove it
to you that you are falling iway. Take
your first book, for instance—'
"Crude, and very young;" suggested
the Novelist.
"Crude nnd very sincere." correct.
the girl swiftly "I begin to bcliev
Ibat with age and experience one s
eyes grow dim. I understand it's phy-
siologically so in the fifties; but. as r
jards the soul, decay appears to set In
much earlier. • • • I’m not keep-
ing you?”
"Please go on.”
“Well, do just read some of your
early work again. I'm sure—”
"If you can really prove to me th
my stuff is becoming worse instead
slighily better.” the Novelist cheek
her, “I wall very willingly give ach ■
for one hundred guineas to any cha r
you like to name.”
The viole* girl laughed again, and
dimpled her round cheeks "We 1.
that's business, certainly, and I'd dear-
ly like to speak of your books general-
ly, with a view to helping you—and
myself. You know that now it's your
name that sells.”
The Novelist shrugged his shoulders,
and glanced toward the clock
“It's bo. I’m afraid,” said the girl,
smoothing her skirts deprecatingly. ‘ I
won t keep you a minute longer. This
Is my notion. I'll write your storks
for yws. and you’ll sign them. It will
be s good deal less work for you,
lb lie I—" __
“Yes?" inquired he, rising.
"1 don’t seem to be able to ie',1 my
stories as it is. don't you see?’ the
continued, with the Dot t gut of hat-
ing her nerve. Her dimple kal van -b
ed temporarily. "And I'm sure—”
Tin profound.y obliged to you," re-
marked the Eminent Novelist very
coldly, “but 1 tear that such an ar-
1 rangement would be scarcely fair.’’
"Not fair! ” she echoed, with a tuc.n
of scorn. "Not lair? To whom? To
your publisher? He doesn't even r> au
your manuscript now, of course. Its
lust your came, and his imprint. To
>our public? They'll gobble anything
igticd by you—because it's the 'in ug, [
lou't you know! Not fair to yourae f? ;
; maintain that I shall do more tnau
.ustice. • • • Here's a short piece—*1
the produced from a little b ig hanging
at her waist a folded paper, in a con- 1
jurtiig trick Kind of way. "Iliad that, |
sign it -ami do me the honor of mak-
ing the attempt. Good morning "
is he dropped the paper in the h >nd
outstretched in dismissal, couriesi d ;
charmingly, smiled and dimpled o..cv 1
moie, and then rustled lierse.f to th.-
door and disappeared from his view,
leaving a perfume of violets and for-
gotten things behind her. • * ,* in
a little while the Eminent Novr.isi
heard the sound of departing carriage |
wheels. He laughed then heartily ut-
Urly. “Well, I'm—"
He stopped short and returned to his
desk. There he unfolded the pap r, !
and ginneed casually at It. “H m—
rather like my style,” he admitted, lie
looked at the end. "Clever girl that
I wonder if there's anything iri what
she says? 1 would like to know—” He
seized his pen; signed the manuscr.pt
in his neat, small handwriting, then
pushed the paper hastiy into an envel-
ope. Wlthuut permitting himself to
pause to relent, he addressed the envel-
ope to bis agent; then stamped it;
then rang for the page boy.
“Post that at once, will you?" he
ordered coolly.
ABOVE THE 93 YEAR LINE.
still remains between the two of us. I|
was piqued into being unfairly fair. | ___
Now. i-’lea-w read my agewt s rep y. re-, Record for Lorg-vity Made oy
Negroes in tne Last Census.
Within three posts the manuscript
was returned—with an Incredulous
note from the agent.
“My dear chap,” it began somewhat
faniilialy, "what are you about? Is it
a joke, or midsummer madness? You
send me a queer little piece; thought-
ful, analytical, and done with more
turning the story the very next nigh*.’*
He handed her the letter.
She rexd it. standing, her own cs*
prv— on unreadable. She sat down
sudd*> it the chair he silently <*C.1 -
rd. and read the note s second time.
He perceived, as she bent her pretty
head, that her hair was of a very
charming eok r—red go d, and shlu.ng.
11c fancied as she did not '.00k up, that
perhaps she was—crying.
He maue the effort then to briak an
awkward silence; hut she in.e;ru;-t-A
him on his first words, in a strap.e,
stifled manner:
“I dou't think 1 qu.te—”
“You sad that if I could rea"y
prove yo'ir work to' bo falling sway
you would give—"
“Ob. yes' a hundred guineas to any
charily you cared to name.” he remark-
oil slifily. "I had not forgotten. The
offer Is etiil open.”
Hhe raised h r eyes. They gleamed
maliciously at him, as her cheeks be -1
gin to dimple. "Perhaps you will be |
good enough to get out jrour check- j
book," she r> narked, calmly returuiug
him the agent's note.
“What do you mean?"
"The story is your own. It appeared
in 'Young People,' In August, U99. f
cut it out then, and a week ago had .»
typed. 1 brought it with me the other
morning lor two reasons—"
"One of which 1 know,” murmured
the Eminent Novelist, commanding
himself most surprisingly. A sudden
suspicion had helped him to parry an
otherwise deadly thrust He reached
for his checkbook, opened it, and took
up his pen. "Pay one hundred guineas, ’
he wrote rapidly, "to—?”
■“Muriel Courtenay," the violet gi'd
answered demurely.
He filled ont the check, signed It,
tore it out of the book without betray-
ing his agitation. He rose and crossed
to her with the paper fluttering feebly
in his hand. "And how is the cider
orchard now, Muriel?" he questioned
in a would-be dry voice. “Do you play
there still?"
“Not for many years,” she told him.
| in her valiant manner. As her frank
eyes held his repentant glance, she
I made full confession—“but I do not
I forget,” she added, in a gentle, almost
The race of Washington's color 1 ]
body servant is very near extinct uni
the negro nurses cf Jefferson, Mail
run and Monroe are no longer numer-
ous. But it is officially established
by the last census that of 9,770 pr.
sons in the L'nited Slates over the
age of 93 nearly 3,000 were colored.
There were by the census report
. 741 native white men and wom -n
SHE SLEEPS OUT CP OOORl
Mrs. Crowe Passes Every Night In
Sleeping Bag on a Porch.
Tucked Krugly away in an siner-
down bag. Umied by the chill winds
of Lske Michigan, caressed by ths
in -oubeams an winked at by the stars
t little worr.au out in Evanston sleeps
every night out of doors She is Mrs
Martha Ko.v Crowe, dean of women
st Northwestern 1'nHerslty and heai
of Willard Hall at that institution
"I am no convert to outdoor living "
>r the age of 95. The balance wai ' said Mrs Crowe, “because I have al
I
wr\/ ’1111
AH! THESE CLUBS.
Mrs. Ruyter Bltt—We took up
Shakespeare at our literary club to-
day.
Mr. Ruyter Bitt—What was the
subject?
Mrs. Ruyter Bitt—Which was th
most becoming costume, Rosalind’s
or Juliet’s.
than your usual style? So much lit \ motherly tone—Paul Cre3wlck, in The
freely ndmit. But where is the stery? j Bystander.
Don't yon know, by now, tjat the tale's | --,
the thing? Haven't 1 drummed it Into
you ever since we started together;
and with the best results for both of
us? I can sell your stuff like hot cakes
in t'nc ordinary course; and I can find
a market for the last—if you insist.
“But! Firstly, the public hate analy-
sis. They haven’t the leisure for it, or
the patience—or the understanding.
Secondly, they can only appre iat •
thought so long as it keeps on the
copybook platitude level. Hang ;t, i.:..n
—remember how--books sell!
Lastly, as re ards style, the public hon-
estly don’t care one way or tVtli r.
Forgive my brutality, and let me know
what I’m to do. Yours-,” perplexed.
The Eminent Novelist pacified tin-
agent by withdrawing the obnoxious
piece, ahd sending him two short
glories, in his (the E. N.'s) later man-
ner Then the Eminent Novelist wait-
ed for the return of the violet girl, with
outward calm.
Inwardly he was disturbed—a litt'e.
He felt some fears of triumph that her
impudent notion of fooling the public
should have failed so dismally at the
very outset !
Moreover, on reflection, he decided
that the agent had sought to soften his
rejection of the MS.; and so had in-
geniously implied it to he “too good.”
This seemed a reasonable view of th-j
man's letter. On the whole, the violet
girl hadn't actually scored a point.
Having thus entirely disposed of her.
fhe Eminent Novelist g’anced a second
time at her story. He smiled as he
noted the construction, the anti-climax,
the “youngness” of the thing. He
Bhrugged indulgently toward the quaint
rounding of ner sentences, so intelli-
gently reproducing his own style. One
or two phrases stirred him; indeed, be
allowed reluctantly that there w.is
merit in the piece.
It was really clever how she caught
his earlier method.
"Ideals are the Unattainable,” she
wrote, "and every decent man will
strive after them."
"Time smooths away the epochs in
our lives, so that presently only wrin-
kles are left to mark their aears.”
"My text book will be all margm.
But I don’t suppose the public will ap-
preciate the delicate irony of it."
Satriical. eh? Another phrase of
youth! He returned to hla work, his
new daring novel, "Heart of a Girl
She esme, with her faint fragrance
of violets and memories. The Eminent
Novelist took up an attitude of toler-
able toward her, and strove to less-n
the blow. She put that aside. “Well,
about the story—did you sign It? ’
“I did.”
“And send It off?”
“Yes; I was weak enough to dare so
much.” He laughed a little as he turn-
ed up the agent’s letter. "I 6ent it
away without a word—and the secret
Useful Bob White.
September Field and Stream calls at-
tention to the fact that the Bob Whiti
quail is the most useful of all our gam 1
birds. The United States has spent
considerable money .in studying Bi ll
White. Thus we may know that al-
though sportsmen commonly believ*
that Bob White eats but little grain, be
really uses grain as only about one-
fourth of the total amount of his f >od
Besides this, Bob White is a soaveiv
ger among injurious insects. It eats
the potato bug. cucumber beetle, bean
Beetle, ladybird bug, wire worm, May
beetles, boll weevil, caterpillar, army
worm, cotton worm, cut worm, Rocky
Mountain locust and chinch bug. In
the spring and summer the xumber of
these inserts eaten by the Bob White
figures into th* many millions. How
useful that little game bird may b* is
to be seen by the fact that the cottoa
erop has at times been damaged to the
extent of $15,000,900 by the boll weevil.
The potato beetle sometime* costs the
farmer $10,000,000 a year. The cotton
worm mav cost $30,000,000 a year, and
chinch bug and the Rocky Mountain
locust have cost thia country $100,000.-
000 in a 13-month.
site up of 279 Indians and 1,84C ter-
ra born while persons -example*
extrema longevity being relatively
re numerous among foreign born
if.an native white and more numerous
among negroes than either.
The number of colored women over
95 by the.last census was 1,277, Geor-
gia being the state in which they
were most numerous. The number .f
white w-nieu native horn over 31
was 972 and of white women of for-
eign birth over 93, 1,01C. The nun
ber of Indian iquaws over 95 was 91
In North Carolina about two-thirds
of the population is white nnd one
third colored. The number of white
U-sidents over 95 was 212, while the
number of colured residents over 95
was 011.
Among foreign born lesidents 479
of the women above 95 were Irish
end , and of the men 351 were born in
Ireland.
Though urban residence is not In-
compatible with long life, It has been
found generally that the oldest per-
rons are those resident in country
districts, and especially In country
districts at a considerable distance
from large towns.
From London.
An American was showing an En-
glish friend around the capital.
"Our government is very economic-
al." said he. “When we’ve an extra
thick fog, they suck it into a big cis-
tern and convert It into paint for tha
warships and buildings.”
"Really," said the Britisher. “Talk
lng about fogs reminds me that nv
brother Invented a machine for com
pressing London fog into bricks an I
one thick November day he turned
out enough material to build a coun-
try house.”
“Yes. he did He moved Into tills
new home the next April, and was a
happy man for two weeks, until >ne
morning he found himself, also his
family, lying out on the cold, damp
ground, in company with some of the
furniture and miscellaneous Join-
ery. The house had gone, but it was
the thickest morning ever seen 111
those parts. Of course you can guo •
what had happened. In the nig'.'1
those fog bricks had somehow gone
back to their original element,"
“\V’all,”, drawled the Yankee, T
reckon yer rel’tive ought t > have
glazed them bricks.”—Tid-Bits.
ways been a believer in it. Why
should not one sleep out of doors in
Evanston st well as whoa on* camps
out West?”
“My sleeping bug? It is not extrv
ordinary. It is denim lined with an
eiderdown quilt It is really a bed
that folds aro ind tte sleeper. Tin re
Is a heal covering thrt will protect
the eyes of the lute sleeper from tha
morning sun.
”1 have spent Ihe summer in the up-
per Sitrras. t'p in the Su rras the at-
mosphere is always dry. Consequent-
uy everyone iu camp sleeps out doors,
right on the grou d. You simply
put on your sleeping bag and lie down
If you want to sleep In the morning
after the sun has risen you protect
your eyes by the (lap that cones over
your head.”
“Hens Is the porch—ray sleeping
place,” she s-aid as she came out on
the broad veianda, "and 1 assure you
It is delight: dl. Afraid of porch climb
ers? Why no A vettcrar. of ths
8ierras sir dd be fearless in Sv ana-
tom
"Everyone in California sleeps o-
doors us inncli us he run. Sleep1 tg
bags aro summon articles of trade.
"Shall 1 do It in cold weather? An
altitude of 10,000 feet in the Sierras
brings cold weather. And I slept
there. But my lag is not waterproof
and I couldn't do it In damp weat.i
•r."—Chicago Journal.
Doctors as Book Buyers.
“The largest part of a doctor's
equipment is h!s books,” said A. D |
Patten. •■T'h-s’e«»-« ”?ually keep
more closely up to the proccs-
from the viewpoint of books than
do lawyers. Tbe doctors have to do
it, because much of their reputation
among their associates depends upon
the accuracy nnd the modern finish
of their knowledge.
"A lawyer can more easily dispenss
with new law books than a doctor
with the late medical books. An up-to-
date doctor has a much more expen-
sive library, as a rule, than a minis-
ter, and It Is almost as expensive, I
judge, a3 a lawyer’s, the difference
being that a lawyer’s whole equip-
ment is books, while a doctor must j
have a laboratory and full comple-
ment of instruments.”—Louisville I
Rat Story From South Africa.
There were * lot of rats In tbo
storage room of my stable, and we
had great difficulty in getting at
them. Th<?“ were shy of all traps,
and did a I'emendous lot of damage
at night, lying quiet all day.
At length I put In the room a
square tin lined box, about two feel
deep, and In It placed some burne 1
cheese. The rats Immediately gut In-
terested In Ihe cheese, climbed up the
side of the box, and having got In-
side, could not ascend the sllppi
tin lining. In that way we killed
great many. One morning my ehl! 1
ren took a cat, who was a very gi
ratter, and placed it in the box, where
there was already a good sized rat
The cat instead of tackling the rat,
appeared to make friends with it.
They put noses together and frb! I
round, but ito harm was done and
eventually the cat Jumped out. ref liv-
ing to tackle the rat. The children
then put In a keen dachshund, who
Immediately snapped at the rat r 1
missed it. The rat ran around t'..o
box two or three times, dodging cl v-
erly, and eventually, by climbing a
the dog’s back, adroitly Jumped cut
of the box and escaped.—Johann.*
burg Letter in tbe Field.
WOMAN ADOPTED BY INDIAN*.
Miss Jarrescn Becomes One of t .a
De?r Clan of Senecas.
The unuMial and picturesque rer*-
moay of being adopted by as luoaa
tribe is the novel experience (hex
came during the summer to one
Rochester young woman.
Miss Mary Jameson the pastor’s a*
s’stant at th* Third Presbyter.**
church has just returned from bee
summer Louie at Lotus Point. Lake
Erie which ia seven miles from the
Cattaraugus re-erratic*. There Ice
the last few summer* Miss Jamesoa
has been accustomed to visit the In-
dians and conduct services for them
on occasional Sundays. Because of
her Interest in them and ber frienk
ship, which they have observed for
several sutnmer*, tha Indians asket
if they might not adopt her and give
her an Indian name.
Accordingly, the day was set and
the Indian rites were gone through
with ihliialed her into one id
their clans. She was adoptej Ini*
the Deo 1 Isn of i!u> S-nc i tibts of
Iroquois nation and given ths
tame of^Vh uue ugwas, a name im lin-
ing “Picking flowers out of tbe wa-
ter.” On her consenting to become
their "sister," two tall Indians stood
on each side of her and discoursed at
liiigtii in the language of the Bencca
uibe to the assembled company of la-
dle nH. Then one of them took her by
the hand and walked her up and
dwn between Hie rows of Indian*,
singing an Indian song, af'er which
he conducted her to her scai and an-
nounced that henceforth she was Ab-
wae-r.gwas. their sister.
A few days -after th* ceremony sh*
vas visttoj at her cottage by a com-
pany of Indiana, who presented ber
with an ancient Indian silver brooch.
Each tribe of the Iroquois is divided
into eight clans known as Wolf, Dear,
Beaver. Turtle, Deer, Snipe Heroa
and Hawk, and each tribe Is a sen
of secret fraternity, in which lh*
members stand by each other in sue
row and Joy.
A strange rule amoug the clans Is
that members of the same elan can-
not marry. The children belong to
tbe clan of the mother. They not
only call her mother, but they call all
her sisters mother, and they call her
sisters' children brothers and sisters.
This Is the reason they do not marry
ir their own elans. If marriages art
unhappy, tbe parties are at liberty ts
marry again, and the mother has tha
solo right to the disposal of the cbllfr
ren.—Rochester Herald.
Courier-Journal.
I
A Distinguished Bedroom.
The house in Portland, Me., where
Longfellow was born is now a tene-
ment in the i>corer part of the city,
mostly inhabited by Irish. A corres-
pondent writes us that a few years
ago a teacher in Portland was giving
a lesson on the life of the poet. Al
the end of the hour she began to
question her c'ass.
“Where was Longfellow born?” che
asked.
A small hoy waved his hand vigor-
ously. When the teacher called or
him his answer did not seem to aston
isb the rest of the class hut it was a
cold 6hock to her
"In Patsy Magee’s bedroom," be
said.—Youth's Companion.
Some women will let their own
kitchen fire go out watching the next-
door neighbor m*k* hers.
Burying lota—ths undertaker.
Nothing preys on the wind like a
thirty-minute prayer
Tbe return of Henry James, afte-
an absence of more than a score cf
years from his native land, la an oc-
casion of considerable public, no les3
than literary interest. It is promi3ei
that Mr James is to give us, after ha
has had time to adjust his gaze la
the unfamiliar aspects which we shall
present to his view, a volume declar-
ing his impression of contemporary
America.
Office Boy—"The boss is busy and
you’ll have to wait in the ante-rooin.”
Mr. Cornstalk—“Waal, I dont mind
a little game, but don’t have the auto
too high.”
A life of Andree is to be issued by
the Geographical Society of Stock-
holm, of which he was a prominent
member. He was well known not
only as an aeronaut, but as a meteor-
ologist, and his personal qualities en-
deared him to a number of l’rien-ls,
his letters to whom are to be embod-
ied in the biography.
The treasurer of the United S!atP3
on May 6, 1903, redeemed two half-
cent pieces. This is the first tim*
in the history of the country that any
such coins have been presented for
redemption.
Jane G. Evans, for more than forty
years a missionary in North China,
has Just died in Charlestown. N. If.
The Illness that caused her death is
attributed to her suffering during th*
l Box*r uRising la 1999.
Failures in Business.
Who was originally responsible f.jr
the statement that 95 per rent of peo-
ple who go Into business ultimately
fail, It is Impossible to say, but on*
frequently hoars the statement, es-
pecially In addresses before business
nun’s conventions and In speeches at
dinners to commercial organization!.
Other misstatements are corrected,
other myths die out, but this one per
sists. Recently the hoary old humbug
received a had whack, a solar plexus
blow, that should send It down “fur
the count.”
The stroke was dealt by Dun's
weekly circular In response to the
query of a correspondent whether it
is true that 95 per cent of business
men fail. The Dun agency peopl*
looked into the matter. They studied
the statistics of failures since 1857,
and they found that the records show
that the ratio of failures In busiaesi t
between 18CC and 1903, Inclusive, av-
eraged only a little over one per celt
each year, that is one out of every
hundred firms in business failed. Tbs
ratio exceeded one per cent, during
the years of hard times, from 1875 t*
1878, inclusive, and again from 1 s99
to 1898; but of the thirty-eight yesrx
between 18CC and 1903 there wera
nineteen years when the ratio slighily
exceeded 1 per cent and ninetoei
years when it was slightly less than :
per cent.
This showing does not revea! e: cd-
ly how many of those who enter busk
ness ultimately fail, for the number
of firms and individuals entering ha*
iness every year, and the number of
those voluntarily retiring from busk
cess, would have to be known in or-
der to get the figures exact; but t
is very evident that the old deluslos
of 95 per cent of business men failing
has no foundation in fact.—Mercan-
tile Review.
Her Pickaninny Prctere
Mrs. Gazena laghitoot of Montgom-
ery, Ala., has in her menage a picka*
iuny protege who has been tapght t»
recite the line from the Master: “Is
h I. Be not afraid.”
When the little fellow came befor*
the negro Sunday school, where hr
wp.s to do his part, he was ashy with
stage fright, but with his small voir*
full of tears an-! trembling like calve*
foot jelly, he managed to say, "Taiat
nobody but me. Don’t git sheared.”—
The Argonaut.
The charity that begins at home j*
usually locked in a miser's chesL
-...... .J
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Renfrew, J. P. Renfrew's Record. (Alva, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 3, No. 50, Ed. 1 Thursday, October 20, 1904, newspaper, October 20, 1904; Alva, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc951071/m1/3/: accessed July 18, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.