Mrs. Tom Hale has returned to Collegeport after a weeks’ visit in Bay City.
Mrs. S. Gaines of Ganado, was a visitor of Mr. and Mrs. S. B. Sims last week.
The Collegeport Industrial League held its monthly meeting at the home of Mr. Gus Franzen Thursday evening and Mr. Bob Thompson was taken in as a new member.
A style show and wedding was giving at the Community House by the Woman’s Club Friday evening, the proceeds being used for the benefit of the Library. A record crowd attended and a pleasant evening enjoyed by all.
The Collegeport Fig Orchards Co. opened their cannery here Sept. 23, and have continued most every day since that date. The tonnage of figs are turning out very satisfactory considering the age of trees which are only 2 years old. The figs are being canned in one gallon cans for hospital trade in Illinois and other points north.
Palacios Beacon, October 6, 1927
This is to give you notice that I hold under lease from Collegeport Rice and Irrigation Company, seventeen thousand Eight Hundred (17,800) acres of land located on and adjacent to Matagorda and Tres-Palaciso Bays in Matagorda County, Texas. No hunting of any kind or character will be allowed on said premises. For your better information the lands leased by me include what is known as Mad Island, Portsmouth and Oyster Lake, all of the above mentioned places are within my inclosure. With this notice you may expect to be prosecuted should you hunt upon said land.
Yours truly, G. A. Duffy
Palacios Beacon, October 6, 1927
It just so happens that in my daily personal contact with the people here in Collegeport that we have some “knockers” here. All this has led me to certain conclusions—things that are worth thinking about—things that you ought to know.
Is it not true many people born and raised right here and are satisfied here, but are continually “knocking” this community? Is it not true that these people feel that one is robbing the other and so on? All this is purely a state of mind that has its destructive effect in this community as a whole. These tactics only defeat your own purpose and make the task of building up this community much harder for everyone.
What does all this mean? It means the tearing down of this community, and that you are defeating your own ends by causing a general disbelief, on the part of the buying public. My observations have naturally led me to think of what really could be accomplished if a closer co-operation of everyone in the community could be had. In as fine a community as we have here as present, it can easily be remedied.
To begin with, I would suggest and recommend that everyone, as far as humanly possible, join and attend the monthly meeting of Collegeport Industrial League and let people know you are a “square shooter” and that you are for the betterment of OUR community. Such contact as the League will offer, will allow you to give and receive new ideas for a greater and better community.
The next thing I would recommend would be a greater and friendlier exchange of ideas in regard to cotton farming, vegetable growing, rice farming, vegetable growing, rice farming and many others. In fact, you will find that often these so-called “farming secrets” don’t really amount to anything, and if you were to interchange them, you and your neighbor would both profit by them. This is not theory—it is fact. It has worked out in other communities where they have combined and given each other the advantage of their ideas on the successful farming methods. At first this may not sound logical but if you will think it over you will find it is very true.
The most instructive thought I have it that you stop knocking YOUR community. By helping one another you will do more for yourself and for everyone concerned.
75% of the time in the League meeting is devoted to a discussion of the betterment of this community. The above suggestions are just a beginning. Co-operation is probably the greatest force today in building up this community of ours.
Through co-operation you will increase your land sales, through co-operation you will raise better fruits, vegetables, cotton, cattle and rice.
Co-operation is purely a state of mind—it means faith and trust in the members of this community. “ARE WE GOING TO GET IT?”
By Adna Emerson Phelps
Palacios Beacon, October 6, 1927
By Harry Austin Clapp
Mrs. Crane selling tablets. Sam Sims rounding up fig pickers. Seth Corse returning from a trip to Blessing and again selling stamps. Mary Louise expert fig canner. George Welsby moving to town. Hugo [Kundinger] trying to get his light plant to light. Being Treasurer of the church he is disbarred from using proper language. Bob Thompson bringing in a load of kiddies for school. Jack Holsworth taking a party of friends to Palacios. Wonder who sat in the hind most seat. Pretty cozy I guess. Miss Thompson and Mary Louise singing in church both using different keys. Wonder when Carl Boeker will cut wood. Mrs. Walters making extra fine yeast. Smoke rising from the stack at the fig canning plant. Looks good to muh. The burg sure is growing for one more person has moved in. We need ten thousand more so come on. I have a niece, in fact several. All are well educated, sweet, lovable, but his one has an accomplishment that the others lack. She can wiggle her ears. Years of practice has perfected this and now she can wiggle them in opposite wiggles at the same time. This puts her ahead of all other nieces and girls and makes her extraadorable. Hope she teaches the trick to her daughter. Homer Goff talking about the evil of strong drink. Wonder how much experience he has had. John Heisey enjoys drawing water from his new water works. One critic tells me that I should not write so much about Sam Sims and his fig work, another says I do not write enough about the fig industry at this place. Which way shall I turn. Will some one inform me how I can please both of these well meaning critics? Personally, I think the fig a very fine fruit and a profitable crop and I think Sam Sims is a most excellent manager for the company.
In a few days all members of the Collegeport Industrial League will be allowed to ride in Hertz, Drivur-self-autoes, thanks to the management. Some miscreant robbed the P. O. box of Emmitt Chiles, abstracted the mail, opened it, read it, tore it up and distributed it along the sidewalk between the P. O. and the schoolhouse so the thief evidently has his lair west of the P. O. Pretty serious business. Good-bye the circular garters over which the flapper rolls her hose. The Docs now say that their use ruins shapely legs. Nuf sed. We all know that girls would rather lose the sight of both eyes than to deprive the male of the species the opportunity to gazing at beautiful legs. They enjoy going as near naked as possible. If the scientific Docs that give farmers so much advice can inform him how to get $10 for the hog that cost $15 to raise he will be rendering a service. Noah defines anonymous as, "nameless; unknown nature; unknown authorship." Some low down hound is sending such letters to some of our good folks. The party is ashamed of such work or would sign his name. He is worse than the chicken thief who robbed the hen roost of L. E. Liggett. This guy left tracks but the latest thief seeks to rob character and leaves no trace. Ali Ben Abi says, "Believe me a thousand friends suffice thee not; in a single enemy thou hast more than enough."
No wonder the figs put up by the fig company have a sweetness that is extrasuperlative. Just glance in some day and witness the sweet faces of the canning ladies, neat, white dresses, clean hands. O, yes, they all have legs and one can see all varieties but they don't use them in any of the canning operations. The entire plant speaks of cleanliness and sanitary conditions. Hattie [Kundinger] mixing a lemon phosphate and a koke for a couple of heavy drinkers. Hugo taking his noon day siesta. Verner Bowers still holding up the poor men with R. J. R. at ten cents per bale. When will us fellows have relief from the oppressor? Mrs. Ackerman catching huge red fish, some of them weighing one hundred or less pounds, perhaps four pounds nearer right. At fifteen cents per pound makes cheap eating. Eggs at thirty-five cents not in same class. Big pack put up yesterday of those "Sweetheart of Collegeport" figs. All I know about this burg is what I read in the Beacon, and in the last issue I read that a certain farm woman will move to town. Wonder what becomes of her husband. Maybe he has departed this life. Butter fat advanced to 34 cents. By same mail I find that butter now sells for 48 cents. Too much margin. Our cow milkers should receive at least 38 cents for fat. A ten cent margin down here is enough for any creamery to operate on. Montreal creamery pays for fat the same price they sell butter for and does a profitable business but I realize that Montreal is way up in Canada and Collegeport is way down south and conditions are different. Eggs are selling at 35 cents but as usual the hens are not on the job. I advise every father and mother to read The Frightful Pace of Modern Jazz on page 22 of the October Ladies Home Journal by Judge William McAdoo, chief magistrate of New York City. The field he writes from is larger than the one in which we live, conditions are somewhat different, opportunities for slipping from God and His Church are more numerous but we have conditions right here in Matagorda County that fit the place. Read it and ponder well. Keep the kiddoes close to the Church and its teachings. Encourage them to affiliate with the Young People's Service League, Christian Endeavor and other such agencies. It means saving souls. It means retaining and growing of the sweetness of young girls' lives. A shingle nail is a very small thing. It has little value and yet the human body contains about as much iron as is found in a small nail. Eliminate it and death follows. I am very glad to know that somewhere in my body is a shingle nail.
Twenty thousand dollars of autoes were parked outside the community house Friday night while one hundred and fifty of our burghers laughed themselves into spasms as the witnessed the style show and Negro wedding presented by the Woman's Club under the direction of Mesdames Crane and Boeker. Many of the audience were eating ice cream cones and at times tears flowed down their cheeks and dropped into the cream but they seemed to like it salty and continued sucking the delicious "nueve de leche." The style show was presented first and depicted the styles for the last fifty years. There came hoop skirt, the long train, the hobble skirt, the skirt with a slash which party revealed and then the dress of 1927 which concealed nothing and proved the old saw that "legs is common." Miss Ruth Mowery was the announcer and carried her part to perfection. In the wedding scene Mr. Nubbins (Mrs. Sims) as father of the bride. Exzima Fertilizer Nubbins (Mrs. King) was easily the star performer. The groom Radio Akin Korn (Mrs. Nelson) confessed to have been married five times notwithstanding the confession Parson Reverend Hambone (Mrs. Boeker) pronounced them "man and woman." Mrs. Boeker had plenty of opportunity to display her ability as a comedian and was gotten up "fit to kill," but she survived and was allowed to go home to her family. Lize (Mrs. Clapp) and Mr. Nubbins sang that beautiful song, "Somewhere a Brat is Calling." As each sang in a different key the result was enough to start the tears in the eyes of many. A Negro wedding cake was cut which everyone seemed to enjoy an da cake walk finished the production. It was a scream from first to last but needed only a scream to enable the firemen to save the child. About $25 was realized by the producer which will be used to buy new books for the library. The troupe tried it out on the dog and the dog stood for it but it does not seem advisable to take it to the provinces.
Milburn McNeil back home for Sunday after a few weeks at Bay City High School. George Braden and his wife drove from Chalmers to see the wedding. Old timers will remember when Dena Hurd put on The District School, starring that wonderful English actress, Amanda Davis Van Ness. In this play Charley Judin fell into the well and Burton D. Hurd put eggs into the back pockets of Harry Clapp. Helen Holsworth was one of the pupils who was all the time asking the teacher, "Teacher, can I go out?" That was also a great production. If amateurs would only learn to direct their talk to the audience most of their stuff would go over but they always, as a rule, seem to think they are holding a private convention on the stage and talk to each other. Well, anyway, the show did not in the least interfere with the canning of figs for the factory is well stocked with bright shining gallon cans each full of the delicious product. The Allens bringing the first of the season oysters and as usual some of them nineteen inches long or perhaps less. The Industrial League held the regular monthly meeting at the home of Gus Franzen. After the business transacted Mrs. Franzen served ice cream that from its smoothness and quality must have been made from about 50 per cent cream. One of the most enjoyable sessions the League has ever had.
Wonder when Doc Harkey and his crowd will come down on that promised visit? Mrs. Boeker has had a menu prepared for many weeks and is wondering if she should consign it to the waste basket. I still hope Doctor will keep his engagements. If one will watch the cloud formations, and use just a trifle of imagination, one may see some wonderful pictures. Sunday night as I write these words a cloud north of the town shows a really wonderful likeness of the former German emperor. It lasted for about two minutes and then slowly faded away. I have seen horses, lions, giraffes, elephants, and many female and male figures, castles battlemented. George Welsby has sacrificed his bristling moustachios and thus disguised can easily go into the detective business for no one knows him the disguise is so complete. Old friends saw him yesterday at the Terminal Café and supposed another stranger had drifted into the burg. Pretty sporty for an old boy.
Matagorda County Tribune, October 7, 1927
Collegeport, Oct. 10.--The fig canning plant has installed a fourth cooking steam jacket. The plant has operated every other day for two weeks. Figs are maturing rapidly, but the recent showers have caused many of them to split, such fruit being rejected.
Hubert Boeker is finishing the last of the rice crop which is turning out a good quality with a promising yield. It is reported that about 12,000 acres will be planted the coming season. East Texas farmers, who recently rented farms, are beginning to come in which promises a greatly increased cotton acreage with the 1928 season.
The Daily Tribune, Monday, October 10, 1927
This is to give you notice that I hold under lease from Collegeport Rice and Irrigation Company, seventeen thousand eight hundred (17,800) acres of land located on and adjacent to Matagorda and Tres-Palacios Bays in Matagorda County, Texas. No hunting of any kind or character will be allowed on said premises. For your better information the lands leased by me include what is known as Mad Island, Portsmouth and Oyster Lake, all of the above mentioned places are within my inclosure. With this notice you may expect to be prosecuted should you hunt upon said land. Yours truly, G. A. Duffy.
Palacios Beacon, October 13, 1927
Mr. and Mrs. R. G. Murphy will arrive here on or about Oct. 15 to start a store and build some new homes. Mr. and Mrs. Murphy are from Springfield, Illinois.
A boat ride was enjoyed by the young people of Palacios and Collegeport, on Friday evening, October 7th. Seven from Collegeport and twenty-six from Palacios were on board when the Claire M, with Captain Richards at the wheel, slowly glided out toward the Pass. When several miles out, the hum of the motors ceased and the table was spread with delicious things to eat. The supper was greatly enjoyed by everyone. The boat left Palacios at 8:20 P. M. and returned at 10:35.
The “Claire M” left the pier at twilight,
The boat rocked by the captive breeze,
Collegeport Joke List
(A small boy in Bayview School:)
Teacher: “Johnny, what are the two genders?”
Mr. Ash wants to know if you ever saw “A man that lived long enough to do all the things his wife wanted him to do?”
Palacios Beacon, October 13, 1927
The following telegram has just been received by the Collegeport Industrial League: "Am happy to inform you that Mr. and Mrs. P. G. Murphy are coming to Collegeport on or about October 15 to open a grocery store and put in a filling station and build some new homes. We have much to show people there and why not boom the place and watch it grow? Letter follows." This is good news for our people and the Murphys will receive a warm welcome and good support.
Thoughts On Harry Austin Clapp's Silence
By a Chicago Subscriber
Thoughts on the silence of Harry Austin Clapp, as portrayed in a recent issue of The Matagorda County Tribune, was almost too much for one Chicago reader, at least, to bear. So poignant was the sting of disappointment that this reader implored, begged and commanded the other half of himself to "do something" about it. The writer scarcely knows what can be done about it at this late date.
The "thoughts" of Harry Austin Clapp, in the mind and heart of this Chicago reader, go hand in hand with Arthur Brisbane; the "noise" of Dr. Frank Crane: "Once Overs by J. J. Mundy; "Listen World" by Elsie Robinson; "Letters of Will Rogers," and as to the "thoughts" of O. O. McIntype--these are often overlooked entirely, especially on Mondays, which bring to the evening lamp glow "Thoughts" by Harry Austin Clapp.
The content of a worthwhile thought, be it sprinkled with some nonsense here and there, coming as it does from a part of the brain of a friend of other days that forgets not the days of "Auld Lange Syne," seems to hold fast that friendship formed when days were filled with toil and nights of rest beneath a southern moon held dreams of a land fair to look upon in dress of modernized development of the natural resources--rare rich gifts of a wise Creator, and keeps alive that fire of ambition and desire to make all dreams come true. Added to this, the coming of those "Thoughts" on Monday, the "silent night" for Radioland in all 36 of Chicago's broadcasting stations, sometimes brings into the Chicago domicile an occasional friend to listen in on DX programs from far lands--and always The Tribune, its editor and "Thoughts" bear comment worthy of a trained literary critic--On "silent night" the radio is tuned in on far distant stations and right well do we know that many beloved friends are too, listening upon the same waves that go murmuring through space and we seem not so far apart. This domicile has windows looking out upon the waters of the lake and at times seems most like "home" and brings many "thoughts" of the southland near the Tres Palacios Bay, but what the writer is trying to impress upon you is the writer has the same effect upon this fact that no other "thoughts" of any Chicago reader as those recorded in the column of "Thoughts" by Harry Austin Clapp.
As to the subject most often commented upon in your column, it is noted that for two weeks past there has been nothing said. One week blank the other ignored the subject entirely. The absence of those comments do not disturb certain Chicago readers what-so-ever--there being some miles of beach presented in panorama to the North, the East and South, where, since the very early springtime thousands and thousands of every kind, length, breadth, girt, and shade have wont to amble forth in sheer display of extent and mingle with the waves and others--running, sitting, leaping, swimming, kicking and diving in such abandon of exposure that one can not distinguish the owner as to whether it be "he" or "she" unless trained by sight to know that the girls are they who wear the skimpiest suits and who are continually crowding the little remnant of hem called legs, while the boys and men, as if aware of the actual unsightliness of "some," are most often seen pulling at the hem of the "skirt" (!) in apparent endeavor to lengthen bottom line to a more modest elevation. No, the reader has not missed these comments enough to long for a return--besides from all "views" expressed by the enclosed late clippings, interest in the subject is lagging all the world over and apparently is being absorbed by the sterner sex called Man. The writer is glad you stopped in good season so as to not be called old fashioned by some 65 or 70-plus--modern flapper! Note the "views" expresses in clippings.
If there were a better paper of its class than Editor Carey Smith's Matagorda County Tribune, if there were a better editorial page in any paper ever read of its kind, if there were a more interesting ramble of "Thoughts" than those of Harry Austin Clapp, the reader and writer of this world like to know "how come."
If there are as many acres of beautiful land stretching across the horizon studded with more beautiful and brilliant blossoms and tall waving natural grasses ready to give their life to enrich agriculture; if there is a land where roses bloom and gardens give forth more abundantly; if there is a coast line where waves ripple more gently and give to man the products of the sea more generously; if there is a clime where summer's sun gives way to balmy breezes from the evening's deep incoming tide that lulls to rest man's tired nerves; if the universe holds one other spot where the moonlight is so purely silver; if there is a spot more deserving of the good that man can do, of a fullness of that virtue called brotherly love; if there is a place more deserving of all that man's work and wealth and time and talent and co-operation and his dreams can fashion, then would I were there to live for aye!
Matagorda County Tribune, October 14, 1927
By Harry Austin Clapp
Hugo Kundinger unable to grow a bay window on his own princely figure builds one on the east side of his pharmacy. The help, female I mean, at the fig cannery were congratulating themselves on the fact that the steam from the vats, removed freckles and whitened their skin and now, that cold blooded Sam Sims put in a ventilator to remove said steam. Never mind, girls, Hugo sells freckle remover at reduced prices. A. D. Phelps absorbing a koke while Carl Boeker buys hinges. Three girls all using the same powder puff. One time girls were particular about such personal utensils but now days they swipe with the same old rag. Chicken stealing seems to be a safe and profitable business. Thirty-six disappeared from Ackerman's the other night. Ben Mowery, president of the school board, has a tractor and crew at work grading the school grounds. Verner Bowers taking lady friends for a ride. E. L. Hall has found the knock in his motor. The offered reward is withdrawn. I well remember the first time I witnessed the Black Crook and how shocked many people were. It was considered a man's show and not fit for ladies for the actorines wore tights and exhibited real legs, perhaps I should say limbs for legs were not the vogue in those times. Today, how different is everything, for legs is common and no man would give a penny to see girls in tights. Today they don't even wear tights for the flummiddiddies they were under scanty skirts are in no way a relative to tights. This morning I saw a girl standing beside an auto and as she leaned over her legs were visible--well, at least six inches above the knee. Who cares to see more? There used to be what is called "sex appeal," but that was long ago for it has been lost in the maze of crooked, bow leg, knock knees, beef to the hoof, and real beauties for there are many in the last class. Keep the spotlight on the beautiful legs with soft curves, well molded, artistic. Here is something refreshing: John T. Scott, president of the First National Bank of Houston, speaking of the craze for service charges that has struck the bankers, says, "We regret that we can not co-operate with the other banks in this matter. While it may seem strange, the purpose of a bank is not primarily to make money. While the stockholders are entitled to fair returns on their investments, we feel that a bank is in many ways a public institution." Mr. Scott pointed out the fact that many patrons of the banks who are now the heaviest depositors at one time had very small accounts. My father was a banker for forty years and I was in the business for fifteen years and we never refused an account because of its size. We figured that the owner of a small account was a friend and the more friends we had the better our business. The banks by putting on this service charge no doubt lost many close friends and incidentally considerable sums are withdrawn from trade. No bank does business on its own capital. They do business on the people's money and could not exist without it. Of course they render a service for its use, in most cases a generous service.
Well, anyway, I am glad that Gustafson is on the job and has secured such efficient aids. I hope that he will remember that the "nine-foot sidewalk" starting at Collegeport is as necessary to us as any portion of the county project. And, Gus don't forget that this sidewalk is to be nine feet wide and constructed of cement. Under a picture of a motor boat race, entitled, "A Water Thrill," is this explanation: "The start of the outboard motor boat race held in the waters of Lake Michigan at Detroit." The Chronicle better read up on geography. I don't blame Doc for not making that promised "good will" visit. He just can't move his people. Business men are damn glad to meet people in their stores but they won't give a damn to meet them in the home community. Undertakers will drive 35 miles to get a corpse but they refuse to drive a fraction of the distance to meet a live customer. Cackling chickens but 'tis a strange world. No wonder mail order business is good when one hundred dollars per day go to them from this small community. Bay City business houses could easily grab some of this if they would be a bit neighborly. One Monday I sent a mail order to a Bay City house and Friday night received the goods. The same mail took an order to Dallas and Wednesday night delivery was made. Dorothy Crane has decided to retire from the oil business and is now interested in Tennessee farming. A recent report showing the average production of cotton per acre for the last twenty seven years ..pounds per acre while in 1927 it was only 149.3 pounds. The greatest production was 209 pounds which occurred in 1904 and 1914. The lowest was in 1921 with 124.5 pounds. Cheer up, good people, for it will not be necessary to make frequent hikes to Palacios and Bay City for ten cents worth of coffee. Just received word from Dr. Van Wormer that Mr. P. G. Murphy (that's Pretty Good Murphy) will arrive here about October 15 and will open a grocery store and filling station and he will also build several new houses. Just as sure as you live Mrs. Murphy will come along and that's pretty good also. Hope he sells three bales of R. J. R. for two bits. The people of this burg should give him hearty support and giving him a warm welcome let him understand that we are sure glad to have him join us in making this place a bit better place in which to live.
Vernon Bowers taking a load of sweetness to the Port-Lavaca-Palacios football game. Party of young people taking a moonlight ride on the sparkling waters of the bay. V. R. Swansey buying a "Farmall" and will put in one hundred acres of cotton and fifty of feedstuffs. E. L. Hall now employs a "chiffonier" to drive his sport Dodge. I hope the first thing Pretty Good Murphy does after his arrival is to join the League. Mrs. Merck says that she knows how to start and stop a car and guide it when running but after that she does not claim to be an expert. Doctor Harkey has just issued a statement of the county cotton ginning that shows a possible production of 10,000 bales for the year. It is the best I have ever read of Matagorda County's cotton story. It is comprehensive, all-embracing, extensive, capacious, broad and bears the imprint of truthful conservatism. Emmitt Chiles home for an hour or two. Forgot his truck. "Monkey" Chiles with a crew of boys hauling sand and building a new tennis court. Something on the order of Boy Scout work. Wonder what Constance Talmadge will do without her MacIntosh. Maybe some stormy days ahead but she, no doubt, will find some other protector. Hope the next one will last longer, They say that (name deleted by censor) uses a shoe horn to ease into them. Suffering shrimps! can this be true? It don’t take much to make some men brag for Will Rogers writes that he bought a new car and did not pay all cash. That's nothing. I have never bought any car, and am not bragging about it either. Well, what do you know about this? The train last night brought in two men, seven mules and a car of household goods. When I made the trip from Chicago I was called a "Zulu," so guess these men must be Zulus. Anyway, they help the town to grow and like hell we need people. Room for a few more. Miss Aubyn Chinn, the nutritionist, writing in the New York World, has this to say, "The exhilaration of bouncing nimbly out of bed in the morning, before an open window, a brisk walk in the sunshine, a refreshing bath and a meal in which the vitamins of fruit, cereals and dairy products abound will increase anyone's stellar attraction." Miss Aubyn chinns too much and is one of the nuts that fill the columns of our papers with high brow stuff. I certainly bound out of bed and do it before an open window. I take a walk down in the cow pasture and sometimes the walk is a brisk run for the damn fools at times refuse to walk sedately to the barn. As to the morning bath, I am lucky to get it Saturday night if the miserable wretch and the sliver of the old block are out of the way. As to stellar attraction I dunno. Webster says, "stellar" means a star. If that is true, I often enjoy stellar attractions, especially when the old cow swipes me across my mug with a tail loaded with mud. Go on Aubyn and chinn some more.
Matagorda County Tribune, October 14, 1927
Mr. Tom Hale from Wadsworth is a visitor in Collegeport.
Mr. E. Hultquist was a visitor in Collegeport Sunday, Oct. 16th.
Miss Mary Louise Clapp left Monday for San Antonio where she will attend business school.
Mr. and Mrs. E. Regnier from Los Angeles arrived this week and are looking over their interests here.
An oyster supper, was given last Friday night at the Community House by the Woman’s Union. Oysters were served, with pie, coffee and sandwiches. The supper was enjoyed by everyone present.
The Christian Endeavor held a Weiner Roast on the evening of Oct. 12th. A great many were present, the evening was spent in playing games. Buns, wieners, sandwiches and hot chocolate were served. The Weiner Roast was held at the home of Miss Louise Walters.
The Collegeport Fig Orchards Co. continue canning figs for several weeks if weather conditions are favorable. The cannery and the canning of the figs has been a great success this season, though the trees suffered a set-back due to the extra dry spell during July and August. Mr. S. B. Sims, Orchard Superintendent, reports trees bearing well, considering them only two year old trees.
Palacios Beacon, October 20, 1927
At last we can give a sign of relief when we know that Collegeport is growing and things are getting back to normal again. The story about Santa Claus may be a fairy tale, but there is something real about the rapid growth this little city is making. Just in the last week Bachman and Son of Bay City have opened up a grocery store in the east side of the Post Office. Mr. and Mrs. Harry Eisel are managing it for Mr. Bachman, they will carry a general line of groceries, fruits and feeds. Many families are moving into this community, five or six having moved in in the last week.
Dr. Van Wormer can now settle back in his arm chair in ease, and can now proceed to dream of little things pleasurable here in Collegeport. And what imaginings are more delightful to indulge in than those concerning this fine community of ours.
Fancy free are we on winter evenings and with spring looming up on the horizon, a bit of dreaming about this community’s activities is just the thing. The people of Collegeport should find it a joy in the planning and anticipation of the future development of this town.
Spring is coming! Each day the sun is shining a few minutes later. Old King Winter appears to have the world in his grasp, but there is a revolution beginning silently to work. Little by little signs appear foretelling the rapid growth of Collegeport in 1928.
Give Collegeport another chance and she will make a beautiful City by the Sea for us to enjoy. It is your city, a city for your home, your life, your health, and your fun.
Plan now for the changes and improvements of Collegeport in 1928.
--By Adna E. Phelps
Palacios Beacon, October 20, 1927
By Harry Austin Clapp.
O, gee! O, gosh! O, geminy grimus! It seems as though I never could quit. It's just like all other bad habits. Hard to break away. Last week I made a solemn promise that this week's dribbling drool would eschew, shun, avoid, cut out, all reference to legs but Saturday night's mail brought a long letter from another Chicago woman who brings the subject all up and so I am obliged to comment, remark, observe, elucidate, expose. This woman informs me that she sees all sorts of legs cavorting on the sands of Lake Michigan and that it is difficult to tell by the undress the difference between male and female except the males look ashamed. She sends along with the leg dope a bouquet of flowers, sweet flowers, flowers I much rather have now so that I may enjoy their perfume than to have them rest on the glass top of my final overcoat. I have no use for flowers "after the ball is over." As for life,--
" 'Tis but a tent where takes his one day's rest,
A Sultan to the realm of death addrest;
The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash
Strikes, and prepares it for another guest."
To make it more difficult for me to reform she sends several pictures of legs, seasonable legs, thin subjects, peaches before and after, see other side, slats. After viewing all these subjects and reading the comments which accompanied each picture I sighed and said, "What the hell, Bill? What the hell?"
"I sometimes think that never blooms so red
The rose as where some Caesar bled;
That every hyacinth the garden wears
Dropped in her lap from some lovely head."
The flowers came from a lovely head and heart from a woman I know well, from a woman I have always admired and I love the flowers for the message they brought but, say, I wish she would come home, dragging the other half behind. If they would do this, the burg would be easier to live in. Mrs. Emmitt Chiles taking the miserable wretch to Palacios. Oscar Chapin here yesterday and just about cleaned up the town. Not a dollar left. Digging up old pipe is no easy job but it has to be digged or dug so I sweat and kuss at the kuss who laid it so deep in the ground. Jack Holsworth buying a fine bay hoss. Young man calling on Mary Louise Sunday night and wearing breeches, trousers, or pantaloons with bottoms at least 24 inches in circumference. Each leg would make a full skirt for some of our girls. Well we must keep up with the styles anyway. What the cotton loses by short skirts, the wool grower makes up in the larger consumption of wool used in such panties so guess the world evens up. Don't know as they were all wool but they certainly were a yard wide. All we ask is that Doc gives a week's notice and Mrs. Boeker will put up a feed that is appealing, elegant, nourishing, neat, fashionable, well prepared, delicious. When it comes to feeding guests this town double dares any community in the state. Many live customers down here and dead men are not common so it won't be necessary to bring an ambulance, except perhaps it may be useful in carrying home the overfeds. One of my critics calls "Thoughts" just common slush and as I read over some of the dribbles of the past I am forced to acknowledge that for once in his life he hits nail on the head. It is only small town stuff and I make no pretense, pretext, excuse, plea, claim, assumption, affectation, subterfuge, fabrication, that it is anything else. Not always truthful, at times a bit sarcastic, never knocking the good things, every trying to introduce a bit of humor, some little personality jokes which do not always take, but never, never intending to harm or injure any man, woman or child. I have too much love in my heart for this village and its people. The boiler at the fig cannery blew out another gasket Monday. Better quit that sort of business or we will need some caskets. Mrs. Cap Allen brought over a load of ice, eatables and some extra fine red fish the other day. One of the fish was at least sixty inches long, anyway half that and weighed perhaps two hundred pounds or maybe less. Anyway, I asked the price and she replied "fifteen cents if you take the whole fish but twenty if I have to cut it." As I did not need all the fish I told her to cut off two pounds and she handed me the knife and axe and told me to go ahead with the cutting so I cut my own fish and she taxed me twenty cents, just the same. Her relatives must have come from Jerusalem or some of those parts. It was fine fish and was enjoyed by the miserable wretch who is my wife as well as the rest of the Homecrofters. This fish was a brother to the one Doctor Van Wormer hung onto when he was here last month. Have been reading the past few days Tales from the Italian and Spanish. Very interesting a full of realism, romance, adventure and humor. These talks expose the soul of the Latin people, and are translations from the originals. Mexico always has been a "manana" country but from this time on they can put it up to Morrow. Ed Holsworth taking another passenger. Party from Freeport trying for red fish. We almost lost our postmaster Monday. It seems that he got mixed up in the crowd at the Buckeye station and missed the Portsmouth Special. His presence of mind bade him hire an auto and he arrived on time to give us the evening mail. But what I wonder is where he got the booze and why he did not bring me a quart or two.
Miss Mayfield, county nurse, making a friendly call on The Homecrofters. We are always glad to see May. Mary Louise going to Palacios to witness the movie Resurrection, and pronounced it good stuff but with an unhappy ending. Paul Braden has taken on a new partner in oil delivery. Mr. Pollard looking over Bay View Consolidated High School. The miserable wretch and Mary Louise refused to call my pooch "Hell" so I have named him Buckshot after Buckshot Lane of Lane City. If he reads this I know that he will be filled with pride. Buckshot Lane is a good fellow and the pooch is a dandy swell kloodle. Fare-you-well party in honor of Mary Louise at the home of Louis Walter with about fifty present eating weenies, sandwiches, cake and washing them down with cocoa. Woman's Club meeting with Mrs. Roy Nelson and figuring how they can spend the twenty-five dollars received from the Negro wedding. Woman's Union holding an oyster supper to hellup pay the preacher's salary. George Welsby building chicken houses on the Van Ness place. A. D. Phelps blossoms out a new suit of coveralls. The Terminal Café still handing out hamburgers and coffee. Hot dogs would be a welcome change I heard one patron say. The norther sent temperature clear down to 60 and everyone began to shiver.
"Leaves have their time to fall,
And flowers to wither at the Northwind's breath
And stars to set;--but all.
Thou hast seasons for thine own, O Death."
Stanley Wright delivering some extrasuperlative dry oak wood at a price that is fair. As for me, I am glad that Stanley and his mother are back here and anchored. Wonder how chickens escape from crates between this station and Galveston. Bet some one eats chicken. Looks as though we would soon be able to buy groceries in town. The Allens bringing oysters fresh from the bay and shucking them at your door. Some of them are nineteen inches long or less and run about 48 to the quart. Feel sorry for the poor folks who live on Lake Shore and Blackstone Avenue, especially during the season when Virginias Ostiones is in favor. The fig orchard opposite Homecroft is loaded with fruit which although late will be picked in time and put in those shining cans for Northern folks to absorb. A large hawk flying low and scanning the ground with its bright eyes. Suddenly it drops like a plummet and when it rises it talons hold a quail. It flies to a telefone pole to devour its prey but when I wave my hat it takes to the air, the quail feebly fluttering its wings. A snake skin complete from head to tail discarded by its owner and about five feet long. Burr-burr-burr, a covey of quail, perhaps thirty in number, whirl away from under my feet. A beautiful bull snake about five feet long hustles along to get out of the human's way. I let him go for he is a friend and destroys many field mice. One lone ant dragging along the trail a dead grasshopper. Along comes another ant, evidently from a rival nest for he attacks but is repulsed and leaves the field. In a few minutes he returns with several soldiers and with the combined strength he leaps on his foe and tears him into bits and then the victors seize the juicy plunder and drag it away to their own den. A long legged blue crane with a frog in its bill and I envy him for frog legs are good eating. A dead armadilla in the pasture. Some one had from the evidence struck it with a club simply to take a life. Harmless little animal. I like to see them lumbering along uttering their queer little hog-like grunts. Makes me think of army tanks with their armored covering. "We will drink deep of the cup of delight, my lover, and bathe in the wine of the gods. We shall feast on the tongues of nightingales, and rest on couches of flowers. And thou shalt cede me thy soul, beloved, and I will give thee mine . . ." The reader is left to imagine what the periods stand for. Just some of Eleanor Glynn's mushy gush but our girls read it with greediness. No wonder as Dorothy Dix writes, "Soon as the paint on the lips has been sucked off they quickly dob on the red so the lips may be ready for the next fellow."
"Eyes, look you last;
Arms, take your last embrace; and lips,
The door of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death."
--Romeo and Juliet, Act v, Sc. 3.
John Merck taking a load of cotton to the gin. Dr. Pierre Higgins, of Fort Wroth, planning to fence his ten-acre lot and put it in cultivation.
Statistics recently released by the A. and M. experiment station reveals that while the average per acre production of lint cotton for Texas has declined since 1899 from 185 pounds to 113 pounds the decline in cotton grown on the black lands, which include Matagorda County have declined from 223 pounds to 135 pounds. This seems to prove that the heavy black lands of the coastal plains continue their productivity and it seem that with more modern handling that the production might be greatly increased. Nothing, it appears to me, can keep this section from being a great cotton field. Carey Smith works along sane and sensible lines, when he uses so much space to give publicity to the value of our lands for the production of this great cash crop.
Matagorda County Tribune, October 21, 1927
Mr. Bachman and son from Bay City were visitors here Sunday.
Mr. George Harrison has been repairing some of the culverts on Central Avenue.
Mr. Hugo Kundinger has just completed a big fine bay window on the east side of his drug store.
Hubert Boeker and Elmer Jones left this week by auto on a trip to Springfield, Illinois, and other points north.
Mrs. S. B. Sims entertained with a bridge luncheon on Tuesday honoring Mrs. A. M. Weaver of Blue Island, Illinois, and Mrs. J. J. Gregory of Houston, who are the house guests of Mrs. C. E. Duller of Blessing. A tempting luncheon of several courses was served and a pleasant afternoon was spent in playing bridge. Other out of town guests were Mrs. Sisson and Mrs. Wagner of Palacios.
Palacios Beacon, October 27, 1927
By Harry Austin Clapp.
When I was a lad living at home there hung on the wall a picture entitled "Leaving Home." It showed the room of a comfortable, homey hone, and the central figures were the father and mother, little sister and brother. The mother stood wringing her apron, tears coursing down her cheeks while the father stood with clinched hands, thus endeavoring to suppress his emotion. The sister and brother both held to the mother's dress and the boy who was leaving home stood with his back to the scene his body facing the great outside world, which was soon to engulf him, but his face was turned back with his eyes resting in loving wonderment on the figures of his parents. I was always fascinated with the picture but how little I realized what it all meant. The time came when I left home. I was bound for Poughkeepsie, N. Y., and my father took me to the train at 4 o'clock in the chilly October morning. He spoke little, and I wondered why, but now I know and I know now that I left at home my mother sobbing her heart out because she was losing her only boy and she realized that never again would the home be the same. My face was to the east and "The World Was Mine." I was ignorant of what I left behind but now I know and how I wish that God could turn back the flight of time and let me love my mother just once more. What a mother! I know now, too late, how she gave her very life's blood that her family might have comforts. I know now how she prayed for me and my future life. Is there anything in the world that approaches the love of a mother? If there is I have never found it. God bless the mothers.
This day is the anniversary of the day when my mother was gathered to her fathers. My little son not quite four years of age placed a pansy on his dead grandmother's breast. Today my turn comes, for Mary Louise leaves home to acquire a business education I know now how full of sorrow was the hearts of my parents for my own heart is full and that of the miserable wretch is full and overflowing. Other girls have had mothers, but no girl ever had a more devoted one than Mary Louise. She has given of her best every day, every year, and now while she is happy that her daughter has the opportunity to acquire additional education her heart sorrows. Mary Louise went away with head up and eyes facing her first adventure and all we can say is, "Please God be with her."
"I shall miss your laugh, your whistle, your song,
I shall miss you all the day long,
From early morn when I kiss open your blue eyes
To see where the love light lies,
Until I know you are safe in your pink bed
And slumber comes to your tousled head."
--Fragments from Hack.
I reckon most of the kids will miss Mary Louise just a little bit for they all liked her cheery ways. I reckon the C. E. will miss her in her work. I reckon the Sunday School will miss her presence. But it is here at home where something is gone.
Are blue as the Southland skies
When Southland skies are bluest.
Ah, from that 'tis hard to part
For such hearts are truest."
--Fragments from Hack.
The Portsmouth Special came in Saturday night with two coaches. Guess biz must be picking up. To see the children climb over Tom Hale and cling to him gives the impression that they love him. No wonder for he is a fine young man. John Carrick's horsemobile ran away the other day dumping Mrs. Carrick and Mrs. Crane in the ditch and providing John with three broken ribs besides a choice variety of bruises. Ben R. Mowery with his grip starting a journey to foreign parts. Fig picking still going on and smoke coming from the canning plant. The King's Daughters meeting at Corse's this week. Guess I'll make a call and get a square meal for that is the sort they supply. Mrs. Chiles and family spending the week-end at Lane City. Hubert Boeker with Shorty for protection starting on an overland trip to California. Louis Walter shipping some of those contemporaneous eggs. The Fred Walter's and Shivers' places are now occupied by East Texas cotton farmers. George Harrison spent an hour with me yesterday and filled me full of dope about the "nine-foot sidewalk" and it looks as though work would begin sooner than soon. George is giving Collegeport good attention and will do some very necessary work at once.
"Sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things."
Some one has said that in Europe they claim America is ruled by petticoats. If they will come to this burg they will see that it is not true. Robert Murry cutting hay. George Welsby getting ready to move into the Van Ness house. Myrtle Fulcher back from a long visit in Mont Belvieu. Cream still coming in at advanced price. Why does a cow break through a fence from a good pasture to graze on a poorer one? Any one tell?
Doctor Harkey spent Wednesday here culling hens for Mrs. Louis Walter. Doc is well equipped for this work for God gave him an x-ray eye, the left one, and all he has to do is to hold the hen up to the light and he can see the entire abdominal contents and count the little seed eggs and tell exactly what the end is able to do. The Bay City Chamber of Commerce is to be congratulated on being able to perform through its manager such wonderful service. The girls better watch out when he turns that left eye in their direction. Hattie Kundinger going to Palacios. Hugo keeping the home fires burning and serving cold drinks with or without. Interesting statistics recently released show the following facts about cotton: In condition per cent California was highest being 91 per cent, South Carolina lowest with 44 per cent, Texas per cent was 55. In yield per acre California led with 354 pounds, Florida lowest with a yield of 114 pounds while Texas showed 130 pounds. I wonder why Texas, a natural cotton country, could not equal California. Young Mr. Regnier here from California looking over the old home place. Cloud effects this morning as the sun rose from its bed were wonderful. For a few minutes one could see three stripes along the horizon, in the national colors of red, white and blue. The stripes appearing to be about 50 feet wide and several miles long. And then the sun peeped up and the waters of the bay moved by the east wind sparkled like a field of diamonds. Some pictures seen by those gifted with imagination. "Most men when they think they are thinking, are merely rearranging their prejudices."--Knute Rockne. Standing still means decay, going ahead means progress. The people of this community have it in their power to decay or to progress. Which shall it be? We are advised that Pretty Good Murphy left Springfield Tuesday morning.
Well, I went to the feed given by The King's Daughters and wonder how I ever walked home. The daughters certainly gave me a swell luncheon consisting of chicken with dumplings and wonderful gravy, rice with tomato sauce, potatoes in several ways, four kinds of pie, coffee. Just a simple luncheon, but, O, my, it was d-e-l-i-c-i-o-u-s. I wanted to join but my sex barred me out but I shall manage to sneak in again some day. The fig cannery operated until 1 o'clock a. m. yesterday. Figs coming in by gobs and splendid fruit. L. E. Liggett drilling a well for Duffy on the land leased from the Collegeport Rice and Irrigation Company. Be mighty fine if his drill would run into a brewery. It if does there will be no difficulty in settling up that section. E. L. Hall's Sport Dodge all dolled up with a new coat of duco. The village is growing fast for about ten new families have moved in and fall plowing is on. Looks as though some one would be interested in putting in a gin for it will be needed. O, joy, the surveyors are here making preliminary survey for our "nine-foot sidewalk." I read in the papers considerable gush about the Puritans and most of it is to me disgust. The Puritans were a bunch of religious fanatics who to escape persecution in Europe fled to the new America where they began a persecution plus. They put their fangs into happiness and joy and burned men, women and children at the stake because they would not or could not swallow the Puritans' religious views. My paternal ancestor, Roger Clapp, landed at Boston in 1630. I thank the Lord that in the history of his life I find little of the Puritan taint. He was a Godly man, a progressive man and a military man who for many years was captain of the Castle situated on the island which guarded the entrance to the harbor. I am glad that I am not a descendant of a rock-ribbed Puritan.
The San Antonio Express states that the hen of America lays 700 eggs every second. That's nothing to brag about for at that rate she only lays 22,075,600,000 eggs per annum and that means that each resident of the United States may consume only 184 eggs per annum or about three a week. Wonder if the Express in making this statement included the eggs produced by Mrs. Walter's fine rocks. If not I will be obliged to revise the figures. Well, anyway I look at it, the hen must get busy and lay twice the number else I will not get sufficient for my personal wants. As usual when we brag about farm production when it is figured down to a per capita basis we are startled to learn that the people of this bragging country are living on a mighty small margin of food supplies. Our per capita consumption of milk per annum is only 55 gallons which means less than a pint per day for each individual and that includes the milk used in puddings, cakes, pies as well as for drinking. Homer Goff says "the eyes of the world are upon us," and I wonder what good it will do us. What we need is the feet of the world, pressing the soil of Collegeport. No harm for the world to look but we need people just like hell. I rather have one man or woman come here to live than have the eyes of ten thousand turned this way. "The eyes of the world" is rather poetical and listens good but it is too much debunk.
"And, as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name."
--Midsummer Night's Dream, Act v, Sc. I.
Attended the Markham "Good-Will Trades Day" and must say that the local Chamber of Commerce did everything possible to provide nourishment and amusement for the visitors. They have two preachers in the town and each did his part. I think it an error for merchants to expect people to do much buying on such occasions. Ninety-nine and one half per cent go for pleasure and amusement and if these are provided, they go home pleased at having enjoyed a heluva a fine day. Every one I talked with enjoyed Markham's generous hospitality. The fig cannery runs until midnight, most of the time, so as to catch up with the fast ripening fruit which is brought in by Sims and his crew. Personally I like the idea of shutting down whistle blowing at midnight or possible at one a. m. for it wakes me from delicious slumber.
Matagorda County Tribune, October 28, 1927
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