The Texhoma Argus (Texhoma, Okla.), Vol. 7, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, June 18, 1914 Page: 2 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Oklahoma Digital Newspaper Program and was provided to The Gateway to Oklahoma History by the Oklahoma Historical Society.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
THE ARGUS, TEXHOMA, OKLAHOMA
MOXO:<<0 Meo:X«MC MCOO
III IE PINE MOD
By JOHN TRENT.
A scarlet tanagur flashed through
the darkness of the pine wood; there
came a shot that stopped It In midair
and sent It fluttering to earth where tt
lay vary still.
Scott Clayton, dreaming Mly on the
brown pine needles, leaped to his feet
at sight of the tragedy and with a cry
of mlnglud anger and pity held the
dead bird In his handa.
There came the sound of a gay wh la-
tin and a girl stepped Into view; she
wore a Jaunty hunting costume of nut ^"cove^ed'the op^"window
brown and a gun was tucked under
"At least 1 can get a drink of water."
mused Scott as he hid his camera
among some vines and slid down the
pine needlee Into the orchard
The way through the orchard led
among tall grasses and a wild tangle
of strawberry vines At last he came
to a small and thriving kitchen garden
and walking between rows of sweat
corn he came to a tumble-down de-
tached kitchen
A glance within showed that it was
untenanted and simply served as a
storehouse for firewood and for garden
tools. Now there appeared the fine old
house, dignified even tn Its splendid
ruin.
Brookh was curling upward from a
tottering chimney. Expecting to find
some good natured mammy within,
preeldlng over the frying bacon whoee
redolence assailed his nostrils, Scott
thrust his head among the vines that
one arm; over the other shoulder was
slung a game bag. She wore no hat.
The dark eyes searched the ground
and discovered Scott's tan shoes. In-
stantly the glance flow to his face and
then down again to the bird in hlB
hand.
"Ab, you have found him?" She
stepped forward with extended hand.
But Scott drew back a little and his
gray eyes expressed strong disapproval
of the fair huntress.
"It was really you, then?" he asked
Incredulous]/.
"Why^ of course—Is U so unusual
for 9 woman to hit the mark V
"No, but It seems extraordinary that
a woman should deliberately destroy
auch a " beautiful creature." Scott
Btroked the scarlet of the tanager's
wing.
A red flush stained the creamy skin.
"Why not, since men have set the
example V she flared.
"One ax poets acts of wanton cruelty
from some men, but from women—
none at all," was his quiet answer.
She bit her Up thoughtfully. "My ex-
cuse la a good one—you cannot deny
that. I am collecting for the Qrlnnel
museum."
"I beg your pardon." Scott laid the
dead bird tn her outstretched hand and
as he did so a drop of blood, unnoticed
on the scarlet feathers, stained her
hand. He took out a handkerchief and
would have removed the stain, but she
drew her hand quickly back and drop-
P«4 the tyrd Into her game bag.
''Oh; V don't mind that—of course I
am accustomed to It!" she said eare-
. lessty, but 800U noted that she shud-
dered a little beneath her armor of
hardihood.
An uncomfortable silence had fallen
between them and Scott* was on the
point of turning away to his book and
hla mossy seat beneath the big pine
when there came a plaintive call from
above htm.
The girl heard It at the same time.
Scott lifted his glance to the tree
and saw the sober-hued dress of the
,ecarlet tanager's mate. As he looked
,'the shot rang out once more and then
,' the anxious mother bird had gone to
tjoln her degfi mate.
SERIAL
STORY
the revolver Be dropp«« the tray he [ "Thank you. That Is all."
Ah the girl bent to pick the bird,
Scott's strong hand closed tightly on
'her rounded wrist while he snatched
thq duid tanager away with the other
thahd. ;SWhen he had dropped the bird
iti the pocket of his loose coat he re-
leased her wrist and stepped bock.
"1 beg your pardon, but it appeared
necessary under the circumstances
Her face was white as snow and her
eyes blazed angrily.
"How dare you?" she panted. "How
dare you touch me?"
"1 have apologized for the rudeness.
It was necessary."
"It was my bird—I brought It
down."
"It was my bird—you killed It," was
his accusing answer.
"Your bird!" she laughed scornfully.
"I have explained to you that I am a
collector for the Qrlnnel museum. I
wanted a pair of scarlet tanagers and
their young—I was to be well paid for
It—and I brought down the male bird
and this one that you have taken from
me Is Its mate. 1 have located the
nest with the young—and well, I have
been watching them for several days,
and now—" she suddenly lost1 com-
mand of her voice and it trembled
alarmingly.
Scott's grave eyes never left her
face.
"But they were my birds first," he
said gently. "You see I am a student
of blrdB and these tanagere happen to
be one of my charming studies. My
camera concealed there among the
brushwood has been trained on the
tree for two dayB. The book 1 am
writing is a plea for the lives of our
birds—the pictures I am making will
not only Illustrate the book but will
be used in every schoolroom In the
country as a means to educate the
children in love and preservation of
the lives of our wild birds."
The girl's face changed as she lis-
tened to his explanantlon. A wistful
look came into her dark eyes and her
lips quivered so that she placed her
fingers against them.
"1 am very sorry," she said in a low
tone, and without another word she
turned swiftly and disappeared down
the dark avenues of pines.
Several days later, Scott Clayton,,
tired and hot after a long tramp
through the woods in pursuit of an
elusive wood pigeon who persistently
refused to pose before his camera,
came ont on the edge of a piney knoll
and discovered himself In a new coun-
try.
The woods ended here and before
him stretched the remains of a fine
old plantation; an ancient orchard, un-
cultivated fields, a glimpse of tumble-
down negro quarters and amid tall
oaks could be seen the ohimnajr ol a
house.
Quickly spoken words, uttered in the
contralto voice of his huntress of the
woods, fell on bis ears before he real-
ised that he wan an eavesdropper, and
he withdrew and hastened around to
the formal entrance of the old man-
sion.
Hut the words would not be forgot-
ten.
"Uncle Dick, I wish I had never
beard of the Orinnel museum!" cried
the paaslouate young voice. "1 used to
love the b-birda -and I have hardened
my heart against the sweet wild things
and killed them for the sake of earn-
ing bread and butter! You remember,
uc«le, that I would never even wear
feathers of a wing In my hats?"
"Certainly, 1 remember, my dear,"
had sounded the voice of an old man.
a weak voice.
"If there was any other way of earn-
ing money for us, I'd—" the brave
voice faltered and It was then that
Scott fled.
He sounded the big brass knocker
and he heard it echo through empty
While he waited he could Ima-
gine the disaster that had befallen the
Inmates of the old house, once the
nucleus of a great estate employing
many black people to servto In field and
garden and house.
There came a shuffling step beyond
the closed door and locks and chains
clanked wlthlg. The door creaked
slowly open as If lamenting the unao-
crstomed disturbance and disclosed
the figure of an ancient negro garbed
In shabby raiment, although his cloth-
ing was clean and his linen Immacu-
late. He bobbed a white head and
peered at Scott from dim eyes.
"Good maiming, sah," he said, court-
ecusly.
"Good morning, uncle; Is your mas-
ter at borne?" queued Scott
"Morse Blair? Yassah, olp marse is
always home. Jea' walk dls a-way,
sab."
Scott followed him Into a oold. dim
sitting room, furnished with fine old
mahogany. Uncle Oeorge left him to
return presently with a cooling drink
on which floated sprigs of fragrant
mint
Then Colonel Blair tottered In, an
ancient relic of the Confederacy.
"Sir, 1 am honored." he said holding
out a hand.
"I must apologise for this intrusion,"
began Scott when they were seated.
"My name is Clayton, Scott Clayton;
I'm an ornithologist in a way. I am
writing a book about birds and 1 find
that 1 need some help. Some one has
suggested that your niece—"
"My grand-niece," corrected Colonel
Blair.
"Your grand-niece might be able to
assist me, as she 1b thoroughly versed
In bird lore. You see I shall be several
months longer in preparation and if
she could help me the remuneration
would be no object—" Scott'B voice
trailed away suggestively.
"Mr. Clayton, I am very grateful.
Circumstances make it necessary for
my little grand-niece to support both
c f us and her present employment is
most dlstatestful to her—it would be
to any woman's delicate instincts, but
Amy is a gallant soldier and she has
not flinched in the face of—of—actual
poverty and disagreeable duty. I will
venture to say that she will be delight-
ed to take up more congenial work. If
you will excuse me, I will call her to
take part In our conference."
He hobbled from the room and Scott
found himself waiting impatiently for
the coming of his huntress of the pine
woods. Presently she came, garbed tn
a soft white gown, and her dark eyes
were shining like twin stars and her
soft lips were parted in a smile.
The conference was a short one and
when Scott left the house he had en-
gaged Amy Blair as his assistant at
the munificent salary of $15 a week-
more than twice the amunt she had
earned with the museum.
Their acquaintance began over the
dead body of a scarlet tanager which
the girl had killed. Many a scarlet tan-
agor and his sober mate—many a
mocking bird, meadow lark and bobo-
link did they shoot after that but It
was with the harmless camera, and
when the book was completed and
ready for publication Scott asked Amy
Blair's permission to dedicate the vol-
ume to his "dear wife and co-worker,
Amy"
We
Chronicles
ef
Addington
Peace
By B. Fletcher Robinson
Co-Author with A. Conan Doyle at
"The Hound of the Baakervlllea," etc.
'* op.rriK i'-, l^li. by W. <7. Ctiapuian)
THE MYSTERY OF
THE JADE SPEAR
(Copyright. 1*14. by the McClure N<
per Syndicate.)
Not Catching.
Jane's sister was coming home from
normal school.
"Why is she coming homer asks4
the neighbor. "Is she sick?"
"Yes; she 1* very, very sick."
"What's the matter with her?"
"Well, I don't know exactly, Mam-
ma has a letter from the principal, and
he said it was lack of mental ability.
I don't know whether It la catching or
not"
(Continued.)
"Good afternoon, Sergeant Hales,"
■aid Addington Peace. "So you have
arrested lioyne?"
"Yes, sir."
"Upon good grounds?"
"The evidence Is almost complete
against him."
"Indeed. I shall be pleased to hear
It"
"Well, sir, it stands like this. Mr.
Boyne called upon Colonel Bulstrode
about one o'clock. He was shown
into the library and "
"One moment" interrupted the in-
spector. "Where is the library?"
"That Is the door, sir," answered
Hales, pointing to the room from
which be had emerged.
"Perhaps It would be easier to un-
derstand If we go there?"
The library was a long, low room,
lined with shelves that were In a
great part empty. It projected from
the main building—evidently tt was
of more recent construction—and thus
could be lighted by windows on both
sides. To our right were two which
commanded the drive; to the left two
more looked out upon a plot of grass
dotted with flower beds, upon which
several windows at the side of the
house, at right angles to the library,
also faced.
"Pray continue," said Inspector
Peace.
"About ten minutes later, Cu|len,
the butler, heard high words passing.
A regular fighting quarrel It sounded
—or so he says."
"How could he hear? Was he list-
ening In the hall?"
"No, sir; he was In his pantry,
cleaning silver. The pantry is the
first of those windows at the side of
the house. The library windows be-
ing open, he could hear the sound of
loud voices, though, as he says, he
could not distinguish the words."
The Inspector walked to an open
lattice and thrust out his head. He
closed It before he came back to us,
as he did to the second window on
the game side.
"Mr. Cullen must not be encour-
aged," he said gently. "He is there
now, listening with pardonable curios-
ity. Well, Sergeant?"
"Presently there came a tremen-
dous peal at his bell, and he hurried
to answer It. When he reached the
hall, he found the colonel and Mr.
Boyne standing together. 'You un-
derstand me, ltoyne,' the cclonel was
saying. 'If I catch you lurking about
here again after my niece's money-
bags, I'll thrash you within an Inch of
your life; I will, by thunder!' The
young man gave the colonel an ugly
look, but he had seen the butler, who
was standing behind his master, and
kept silent. 'Show this fellow out,
Cullen,' said the colonel. 'And If he
ever calls slam the door In his face.'
And with that he stumped back into
the library, swearing to himself In a
manner that, as the butler declares,
gave him the creeps, It was so very
imaginative.
"With one thing and another, Cullen
was so dumfounded— for he thought
that Boyne and Miss Sherrtck were as
good as engaged already—that he
stood In the shadow of the porch
watching the young gentleman. Royne
walked down the drive for a hundred
yards or so, looked back at the
house, and, not seeing the butler, as
he supposes, turned off to the left
along a path that led towards the
fruit gardens. Cullen did rot know
what to make of It. However, It was
none of his business, and at last he
went back to his pantry. Sticking
out his head, he could see the colonel
writing at that desk" —the sergeant
pointed a finger at a knee-hole table
littered with papers that was set in
the further of the windows looking
out upon the grass plot—"and so
concluded that he could not have
Been Boyne leave the drive, having
had his back to it at the time.
"About twenty minutes later Cul-
len and Mary Thomas, the parlor
maid, were in the dining room, get-
ting the table ready for lunch. This
room looks out upon the lawn at the
front of the house. All of a sudden
they heard a shout, and the next mo-
ment the colonel rushed by and made
across the lawn to the Wilderness
gate. He had a revolver in his hand,
and was loading it as he ran. Ha
dropped two cartridges in hla ljurry.
for I found them myself when I waa
going over the ground. Cullen had
been with him for years; he Is an old
toiler himself. apd at the sight of
waa holding, climbed out of the win
dow, and set off after his master, who
had by then disappeared amongst the
shrubberiea.
"He is a slow traveler, is the old
man, and he reckons that he waa not
more than half-way acrosa the lawn
when he heard a distant scream,
which pulled him up in his tracks.
It put the fear into him, that scream
He told me that he had seen too
much active service not to know the
cry that comes from a audden and mor-
tal wound. It waa no aurprlse to him,
therefore, when at last he reached the
wicket-gate, to find his master lying
dead in the road.
"Above him, tugging at the spear
that had killed him, stood Boyne.
"There was no one in sight, and
though the road curves at that point
he could see it for fifty yards and
more either way. He had no doubt
in his own mind as to who had done
the thing. Iloyne must have seen the
suspicion In his face, for he Jumped
back, Cullen says, and stood staring
at htm as white as a table cloth.
1 'Why do you look at me like that,
Cullen?' he says. 'You don't think—'
" 'If you can explain that away,'
says Cullen, pointing to the body, 'you
will be, sir, If you'll forgive me for
saying It, a devilish clever man.'
" 'You're mad,' says Boyne. 'I
found him like this.'
" 'And where did you spring from,
if I may make so bold?' asked the
butler. Very sarcastic he was, he
tells me.
" 1 had been in the upper garden,
and as you very well know, Cullen, I
wished to avoid the colonel,' says the
young man. 'I came round the back
of the house and entered the Wilder-
ness at thb upper end. I waa walking
down the center path towards the
wicket-gate, when I heard some one
scream, and set off running. I could
not have been here more than half a
minute before you.'
"The butler did not argue the mat-
ter, but left him standing beside the
body, and went to get assistance. On
the lawn he met two of the garden-
ers, and Bent them baek. I believe
he also saw Miss Sherrlck near the
porch. It was upon thoae facta, air,
that I arrested Boyne.
"I don't think," said the Inspector,
shaking his head at him, "I don't
think that I should have arrested him,
Sergeant Hales
"It looks very black against him,
you must allow.1
"Which affects his guilt or Inno-
cence neither one way nor the other.
Has a doctor examined the body?"
"Yes, sir, and extracted the spear
"Why did you let him do that?'
asked the little man, sharply.
"I knew you would be vexed about
It, but it was done while I was out
of the house, examining the road and
lawn. He was very careful not to
handle it more than was necessary
he said; but he had to saw the shaft
In two."
"And why was that?"
"He said that the force used by the
thrower must have been very great.
"Very great?"
"Yes, sir, gigantic—that Is what he
said."
Addington Peace walked to the
window and stood there staring out
at the elm avenue that swayed softly
in the breeze.
"Is the doctor still in the house?'
he asked over bis shoulder.
"No, sir."
"We have none too much light left,
Have you the spear?"
The sergeant opened a side cup-
board and drew out two pieces of
light-colored wood. The polished sur
face waa dulled by stains that were
self-explanatory. The head was broad
and flat, formed of the finest Jade,
microscopically carved. It had been
fashioned for eastern ceremony, and
not for battle. That was plain enough.
Peace returned to the window and
examined it with the closest atten-
tion. Presently he slipped out a mag-
nifying glass, staring eagerly at a
spot on the longer portion of the
shaft
"Do I understand you, Sergeant
Hales, that you found Boyne endeav-
oring to pull out the spear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Who else touched it?"
"No one that I know of, save the
doctor."
"And yourself?"
"Of course, sir."
"Let me see your hands."
The sergeant thrust them out with
a smile They had plainly not been
washed that afternoon.
"Thank you. Have you discovered
the owner of this spear?"
"No, sir; I wish I could."
"Have you tried Cullen or Miss
Sherrlck?"
"No, sir," said the sergeant, look-
ing blankly at the Inspector.
Inspector Peace walked to the fire-
place and touched the electric bell,
in a few mcynenta the door opened
and a fat, red-faced man walked in.
There is no miataklng the attitude
and costume of a British butler.
"Colonel Bulstrode was a collector
of Jade?" said the inspector, in his
most innocent manner.
"Yea, sir."
"I noticed the specimens in the
hall. Well. Cullen. have you ever
seen this spear amongst hla tro-
phies?"
The man glanced at It, and then
shrank back with a shiver.
"It'a the thing that killed him," he
stammered.
"Exactly. But you do not answer
my question."
"There may have been one like it,
but I couldn't swear to It, sir. The
colonel would never have his collec-
tion touched. He or Miss Sherrlck
dusted 'em and arranged 'em them-
selves. He waa alwaya buying 8ome
new thing."
"Would Mlaa Sherrlck know?"
"Very likely, sir."
Aa the butler cloaed the door, the
sergeant atepped up to the Inspector
and saluted.
"I should have noticed thoae collec-
tions," he aaid. "I have made a fool
of myaelf, sir."
A man who can make auch an ad-
mission la never a fool, Sergeant
Halea. And now kindly take me up-
Btaira to the colonel'a room. You
can wait here, Mr. Phlllipa."
It waa close upon the half-hour be-
fore they came back to me, and I had
leisure enough for considering the
problem. When Peace had walked
Into my rooms at lunch time, mention-
ing that he had a caae with possiblli
ties at Richmond, if I cared to come
with him. I had never expected bo
strange a development Nor, I fancy,
had he.
This Colonel Bulstrode had served
many years in India. Had the myste-
rlea of the east followed him home to
a London suburb? T^e gigantic force
with which this spear had been
thrown—there was something abnor-
mal there, a something difficult to ex-
plain. Yet, after all, it might be a
simple matter. Boyne was presum-
ably a strong man, and the deadly
fury that Induces murder in a law-
abiding citizen is akin to madness,
giving almost a madman's strength. I
was still puzzling over it when the
door opened and the little Inspector
walked in.
'The story of Sergeant Hales?" I
asked him. "Is he exaggerating—
was the spear thrown with unusual
violence?"
"Very unusual. It is the crime of a
giant or "
He did not finish his sentence, but
stood tapping the table and staring
out at the gold and green of a sum-
mer sunset. At last he turned to me
with a slow inclination of the head.
Hales is waiting," he said, "and
we must get to work. The light will
not last forever."
The sergeant led us over the lawn
to the Wilderness and through its
paths to the wicket-gate. Showers in
the early morning had turned the
dust of the road into a grey mud
that had dried under the afternoon
sunshine. The surface was scored
into a puzzle of diverging lines by
the wheels of carts and carriages,
cycles and motors. Yet Peace hunted
it over even more closely than he had
hunted the paths in the grounds. He
was particularly anxiouB to know the
position In which the body had lain,
and finally the sergeant got down In
the drying mud to show him.
Apparently the colonel had walked
about ten yards from the gate when
the spear struck him. He had fallen
almost In the center of the road,
which at that point was broad, with
stretches of grass bordering it on
either side. His revolver had not
been fired, though he had been found
with It in his hand.
We walked on down the road, Ad-
dington Peace leading, his eyea fixed
on its surface, and the sergeant and
I following behind. For myself, I
had not the remotest idea of what he
hoped to etTect by this promenade,
nor do I believe had the sergeant. We
circled the outside of the gardens, the
road finally curving to the left, and
bringing us to the entrance-gates.
Here we stopped at a word from the
inspector. The little man himself
walked on. and finally dropped on his
knees close to the hedge. When he
Joined us again. It was with an ex-
pression of satisfaction. He beamed
through the gates at the old elm ave-
nue, that rustled sleepily In the gath-
ering dusk.
"What a pretty place it Is," he said.
"Thank heaven that these old houses
still find owners or tenants who dare
to defy the Jerry builder and all his
works. Hello, and who may this be?"
He had turned to the toot of the
horn. The motor was close upon us,
for a steam-car moves in silence as
compared to the busy hum of a petrol-
driven mechlne. It stopped, and the
chauffeur Jumped down and ran to
open the gates. Of the driver we
could see nothing save a peaked cap.
goggles, and a long white dust coat.
(CHRONICLES TO BE CONTINUED.)
CANADA'S PLACE
AS A PRODUCER
Canada Is Getting a Great Many
Americans.
"Three young provinces, Manitoba.
Saskatchewan, and Alberta." says a
New York financial Journal, "have al-
ready made Winnipeg one of the great-
eat primary wheat markets of the
world. In 1904 they raised 68,000,000
buahela of wheat Five years later
they produced 150,000,000 bushela. In
1913 the crop approximated 200,000,-
000 bushels. At the present rate of
progress Canada must eoon pass
Prance and India, and stand third in
the line of wheat producers. Ulti-
mately It will dispute with Husaia and
the United States for the first position.
Wheat has been the pioneer of our
development. Undoubtedly It will
prove the same with Canada. In the
last calendar year our trade with Can-
ada amounted to 497 million dollais.
Only with two countries—the United
Kingdom and Germany—is our trade
greater. No vivid imagination la
needed to Bee what the future devel-
opment of Canada means to the
people of the United States.
The influx of American settlers to
the Canadian prairies is now in full
swing. Within the past few daya
over 80 of those arrived at Bassano
carrying with them effects and capital
to the value of *100,000. Fifty settlers
from Oregon arrived in Alberta a few
days ago; while 16 families of settlers
from the state of Colorado arrived at
Calgary on their Journey northwards.
The goods and personal effects of this
party filled 20 box cars. Of live stock
alone they had 175 horaea, 16 cowb
and 2,000 head of poultry. Another
class of settler has arrived at Peers,
110 miles west of Edmonton, where no
fewer than 200 German farmers have
taken up land. These are from good
farming families and brought with
them a large amount of capital.
Then in South Western Saskatche
wan, there are large numbers settling,
these from the United States predomi-
nating, while in the northern and cen-
tral portions of all these provinces,
the Settlement of new people is going
on steadily. Early In April, Peter
Goertz arrived In Cardiff after a six-
day Journey from McPherson, Kansas.
Mr. Goerti who had purchased land
here was in charge of a party of 38
people from the same part of Kansas
and they came through with a special
train which included all their stock
and Implements. The equipment was
all Rock Island cars, and was the first
full immigrant train ever sent out by
that railroad. The farms purchased
by the members of the party are
amongst the best In the district
When the Panama exposition opens
next year any of the three transcon-
tinental lines In Canada will make
convenient means of transport for
those going to visit and In doing
so agricultural districts of Western
Canada can be seen, and ocular dem-
onstration given those who have heard
but not before seen, of that which has
attracted so many hundreds of thou-
sands of AmeHcan settlers.—Adver-
tisement
STILL SEARCH FOR TREASURE
Colored People of the South Victims
of Sharpera, Who Sell Them
Divining Roda.
The restaurant orchestra had Just
finished playing "Dixie."
"Speaking of buried treasure," said
a southerner after the noise had died
away, "the search for the hidden
riches of Captain Kldd isn't in It
with the hunt that is going on con-
tinually all over the south for wealth
tbat is supposed to have been se-
creted during the Civil war. Two
classes of persons are engaged In It
It is the pet avocation of the negroes,
but not more than one in a hundred
thousand ever finds anything. The
class tbat geta the real coin la the
alick Yankee who travela through
the south selling divining rods and
things of that sort to the negroes.
These 'witch aticka' are supposed to
draw their holders Irresistibly to
where the treasure is buried. They
sell for a big price—$10 to $50—it de-
pends on how much the purchaser haa
hidden away under his owm hearth-
atone."
Carrying School Books.
Almost all school childreu carry
their books with a strap put around
and buckled very tight. This will
make denta In the cover where the
board overlapa the body of the book
If the strap la left loose, the books
are liable to slip out. Place the cover
of one book between the cover and flj
leaf of Ita netghbor and the difficulty
will be remedied. Thia will place th«
books In alternate direction. Books
stacked In this manner do not re-
quire the atrap to be buckled tight
The Inference.
"Are you a policeman?" asked one
paying guest of another at a charity
picnic dinner.
"No," said the other. "Why do you
ask?" /
"Merely, that I noticed," said the
first speaker, glancing at the section
of fried chicken in the other's fin-
gers, "that you are pulling a tough
Joint."
Wants to See Things.
"Poor old Jaghaby 1b off the water
wagon again."
"I can't help admiring his frankness,
though."
"He doesn't try to excuse himself?"
"No. He merely aays he prefers a
scenic route."—Baltimore Sun.
The Button Doctor.
During the short seven years of her
life, little Florence LouiBe had be-
come duly impressed with the preva-
lence of specialists in the medical pro-
fession.
One day, after returning from a visit
to a small playmate, she calmly an-
nounced;
"Rena swallowed a button."
"Are you worried about her?", she
was asked.
"Oh, she will get along all right"
Florence Louise complacently replied.
"They sent for a regular button doo-
tor."—Judge.
> v.
Limited Intentions.
"How do you propose to support
my daughter, air?"
"I didn't propoae to her to aupport
her at all. I only proposed to her to
marry me."—Rehoboth Sunday Her-
ald.
Proving tha Punch.
Skids—You think hia story haa a
real punch to it?
Skittles—Sure thing! You ought to
have seen the way It put me to sleep.
—Puck.
Disasters.
"My baldneaa dates from that ter-
rible year."
"Oh, yea! 1870."
"What do you meaui by 1870? I
apeak of the year I waa married."—Le
Rlre (Paris).
*
A Success.
"Waa the go to church movement a
auccess In your neighborhood r
"Yes, indeed. Our church waa aa
full as It Is when they are serving
•omethins to eat"—Detroit Fre*
Press.
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Buckley, Joe L. The Texhoma Argus (Texhoma, Okla.), Vol. 7, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, June 18, 1914, newspaper, June 18, 1914; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metapth352267/m1/2/: accessed April 19, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.