Matagorda County Tribune
Collegeport ArticlesJanuary, 1928
By Harry Austin Clapp
"Cling to thy home, if there the meanest shed
Yield thee a hearth and shelter for thy head,
And some poor plot, with vegetables stored,
Be all that Heaven allots thee for thy board--
Unsavory bread, and herbs that scattered grow
Wild on the river bank, or mountain brow,
Yet e'en this cheerless mansion shall provide
More heart's repose than all the world beside."
From the Greek of Leonidas, By Robert Bland
Webster defines outlander as "a foreigner" but it is not used in that sense in these thoughts but to define those who having once lived here now dwell in marble halls on South Shore, Blackstone Avenue, San Pedro Avenue, Topeka, Phillipsburg, Cleveland and a score of other places. These thoughts are thought to give some news of those who are now and known by all the Collegeport Outlanders.
My Gold and Blue Sanctum Rorum was honored this week by a visit from Kay Legg and Viola, his wife, and Mrs. Merck and also came Oscar and Ora Chapin, and the latter announced they were moving back to Collegeport.
Mrs. Welsby still handing out hamburgers at the old stand, and Hattie (Haisley) and Hugo [Kundinger] shaking up cold drinks.
Margaret Holsworth home for the vacation, looking like a full blown rose.
The Chiles family in Lane City for a few days.
Mr. Conover home from the Boling sulphur field. Looks prosperous.
George Braden and family here for Christmas turkey with the Nelsons.
Seth Corse and Mrs. Corse hustling holiday mail with smiles as ordered by the U. S. Department of Posts.
First section of cement road for the "nine-foot sidewalk" let and concrete will be poured shortly.
Burt Hunt very ill at Mt. Belvieu with typhoid fever.
Anna Van Ness married and a mother lives at Dallas.
Mat Pierce at Edinburg.
F. L. Hall still conducting the Portsmouth limited.
Jim and Mrs. O'Neal guests for dinner at the Ackermans on the Slough Ranch.
Mrs. Wright and Stanley back for keeps.
John B. Heisey collecting auto numbers. Just a fad but he collects them alright.
V. R. Haisley breaking land for an enlarged cotton planting.
Robert Murry milking cows and buying cattle on the side. Still rolls his own.
All Outlanders should ask the Bay City Chamber of Commerce for a copy of the beautiful booklet just issued covering Matagorda county.
Louis Walters and family enjoying life and Louie still smoking a curved stem pipe.
Gus Franzen, one of the best farmers, happy with his children at home. Arnold and Dorothy at Rice and Clifford at Bay City High.
The Liggett family at the old place enjoying electric lights.
Roy Nelson rounding up cattle.
Two girls in the family now, not counting Grandma Shuey, who is some girl herself.
Mrs. Luce visiting in San Antonio.
Mary Louise home for a visit. Mighty proud I am of my girl. None sweeter, more self-possessed or reliant and doing so well in her studies.
Ed Regnier is here for the winter.
Paul Braden, a well-developed, handsome, well-behaved young man.
Tom Fulcher has fallen hard for the beautiful female shown on Tetts calendar and wishes one would be sent to him. Says he will hang it on the foot of his bed and then enjoy sweet dreams.
I have tried my best to avoid reference to legs, but along comes another string of dope from a woman reader who lives in Illinois. She sends me a moustache comb, the handle of which represents a female leg. Sure, it has hose and shoes, but it is a leg after all, but only a representation. It don't begin to be as charming as the legs of the donor, for I have seen them and they are graceful, becoming, comely, elegant, charming, flowing, rounded. I wonder if you know what I mean. Her legs are as luscious, delightful to the eye, graceful, curving and look toothsome. This gift has put me in a tough position for if I grow a moustache, the miserable wretch who is my wife will leave me and if I do not the donor will be offended.
A tag attached to the gift has this:
'Tis ever on your thoughts,
A sheen--a curve,
An ankle slim,
You're just as
Gay as Uncle Bim.
Thank you, sister. I shall use the comb, but in my dreams, I will see your beautiful legs.
Had a letter from Doctor Van Wormer and he is still the same splendid "Doc Van." Now, if Samuel B. Sims would write me approving of Sam Sims there would be no clouds in the New Year and I no longer would fear the influence of Mr. L. of Chicago.
I notice that D. P. Moore advertises "reducing women's clothing." Ye Gods! Have they not gone far enough without such a staid citizen as D. P. urging that they discard?
Zack cracked another cracker but missed out for I never touched the Prince's lip. It was the lips of the Princess that coaxed me across the garden fence. Lips that are red, ripe, sweet, moist, giving off a sweet, sugary, pleasing, fragrant, delightful, luscious flavor to the receiver--those are the lips that tempt me, and I would be a real cad were I to pass them by. No Prince's lips for me but come on you Princess.
Mesdames Ash, Boeker and Brazil
certainly served delicious raisen pie to the League last Thursday night.
Had some of each and must say "could be happy with either were tother
dear charmer away."
We have in our employ five men known as the County Court and they have employed two or three first class engineers. The business of these men is to build about $3,000,000 worth of roads. If we have confidence in them why not allow them to build? If we have not, the time approaches when we can fire some of them. The building of the lateral roads as well as the main highway is simply a matter of business. They should be built the shortest distance, for the least money and to serve the most people. We should all turn in and aid these men in conserving the money derived from the bond sales.
Forty-seven braved the north wind Saturday and attended the annual New Year's community dinner. Those present were well repaid by partaking of the splendid dinner served. The new five-burner stove was used for the first time and chief cook Mrs. Nelson's eyes sparkled. As usual the faithful few included Mrs. Liggett, did most of the work.
Well, Mary Louise has came and went. Back to her studies in San Antonio, but what a happy holiday time we had. I loved her before she came home but my love has grown the last few days until it actually hurts. God keep her clean, sweet, wholesome and grant that she may grow into a useful woman.
"I must enjoy you while I may!
Oh, little girl, how fast you grow!
Just now I am the world to you--
How long a time will this be so?
You need me now just as you do
Your hands, your feet, your eyes, your ears,
Your little greedy petal mouth
Mine is your laughter and your tears.
But I must give you to yourself;
A part of you I must resign;
You have the right of growing up,
The world wishes a part of mine.
Yet though it tears my life apart,
I must not show it in my face;
Yes, she is quite grown up, I'll say
And smile as at a commonplace."
Apologies to Abigail Cresson.
And Burton says, "No cords or cables can so forcibly draw, or hold so fast as love can do with a twined thread."
I read in the Houston papers that the mercury went down to 32 in the Valley. I mean the Magic Valley, not Caney Valley, and yet right here in Collegeport it touched 16 Monday morning and on Tuesday morning stood at 20. If being in the Houston trade territory means higher temperatures, let us pray that Houston will take us in even if we are one hundred and twelve miles away. Some day Houston will wake up to the potential possibilities of the Midcoast and then they will send visiting delegations as they do now to the Valley.
Well, anyway, January 2 brought me a new heifer calf. The poor thing came into a 22 degree atmosphere and nearly died but Tuesday it was kicking about in fine style. Mary Louise named it Squeeze, and it is well named for it did have a hard squeeze to live.
Said a certain young lady, Mary Louise,
The calf's name shall be "Squeeze."
Of course it's not a husky fella,
But it will soon be tough
And learn to be rough
So what the hella.
--Fragments from Hack.
Now that Ora Luce Chapin has returned I shall have more copy for she always furnishes some thought for me to revamp.
Minnie-ha-ha hangs on the wall, but up to date George Serrill has forgotten the miserable wretch. Wonder who he sends beautiful calendars to this year?
Wonder also why Tetts won't send me one of those female forms, so that I, too may have dreams?
Several years ago I promised Mrs. George Culver that I would visit Matagorda and preach a preachment. I have not kept the promise for I felt that there was little need of it, for George Culver, I felt, was safe as he was a working member of the Episcopal faith and Mrs. Culver seemed to be saved in the Methodist fold. It looks now as though it was my duty to go over there and preach a little for I read in the Tribune that "Mr. and Mrs. George Culver led the Grand March at the opening of the BayTex Hotel." Looks as though Mrs. Culver had fallen good and hard and in my opinion the Deacons and Elders of the Methodist church should haul her up for confession. After she has confessed her sin, will be a good time for me to preach.
The year 1928 has been filled with disappointment and yet it has held hope in abundance and after all what would we do without hope? We all hope for better things for the year 1928. It is the hope that springs eternal.
As I write these words it is 12:02 a. m. January 1st, 1928. I stop pecking the types and step out on the gallery and look up at the sky. It is a brilliant blue and the stars glitter in the frosty air like diamonds. The moon winks his left eye at me and seems to say:
"If the Man in the Moon was a coon, coon, coon,
What would you do?
No spooning in the park at night,
No sitting in the pale moonlight,
If the man in the moon was a coon, coon, coon."
And so Adios, good old year of 1927.
Matagorda County Tribune, January 6, 1928
By Harry Austin Clapp
[Collegeport information was abstracted from the longer article which included the experience teaching a calf to drink--thus the title.]
Hattie [Kundinger] circulating a road petition, or I might say a partition, for by means of it she separates the goats from the sheep.
Hugo [Kundinger] selling denatured alcohol for radiators. The thought comes that if he could eliminate the "de" from one end and substitute "al" for the "ed" on the other end he could work up a lively and profitable business.
Dr. Van Wormer operated on a beautiful young lady for appendicitis and the young lady said, "Doctor, do you think the scar will show?" Doctor replied, "It ought not to."
Is there anything in the world sweeter than a new-born babe, I know it not. Fresh from God that giveth all life, delivered through he hands of angels to the loving earthly mother, sinless, stainless, free from passion and guile, just a bundle of treasure to love. Such a one came Tuesday, January 3rd, 1928, to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Eisel. Its name is Harry Louis Eisel, Jr., and Elizabeth is the proud possessor of a little brother. Here's hoping it will grow into as fine a boy as Elizabeth is a girl.
"Behold my Lords,
Although the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father; eye, nose, lip,
The trick of his frown, his forehead; nay, the valley
The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek; his smiles;
The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger,"
"O, 'tis a parlous boy;
Ora [Chapin] is back again with her pigs. They have guinead until she now has twelve. Shipped one car lot of one whole pig.
The booklet written by Doctor Harkey, issued by the Bay City Chamber of Commerce and printed at the Tribune shop reflects credit on the author, for it is a safe, sane, conservative statement of conditions in this county. It bears out the good reputation of the Chamber of Commerce. It is printed on excellent paper, a paper that gives one a pleasure to handle and as an example of the printers art it could not be equaled at any shop or by any craftsmen. I had one, but sent it north to an inquirer. Disliked to part with it for I like fine printing, but I hope the good Doc will read this and send me two or three more--one for my files and the others for distribution. Am waiting, Doc.
Thinking of taking a trip to San Antonio, asked the local agent about the price of berths and he said "the lower is higher than the upper. Take your choice, but most people take a lower even though it comes higher. When you take an upper you have to get up to go to bed, and down when you get up. The upper is lower than the lower, because it is higher, and--" Am I glad that I understand all about it.
Isn't life strange? Isn't life wonderful? Isn't it past our feeble understanding the way God plans our existence? Here is an instance of His sending joy Tuesday to the Eisel family with the birth of the only boy and then the next day He sends sorrow to the Nelson and Braden families in the death of the mother, Mrs. Shuey. Only Saturday I talked with her at the community dinner and wished her many more Happy New Years. A fine wife, a devoted mother, a splendid character, the world is better for having her in it. Everybody loved Grandma Shuey and she in turn loved everybody. Her crossing of the river came suddenly. She had little warning, but she, like the Christian that she was, was ready for the crossing. The boatman had little time to wait and the journey was short, and now we can be sure that she is with her fathers safe on the other side. Requiescat in pace.
"So when the Angel of the darker Drink
At last shall find you by the river-brink,
And, offering his cup, invite your Soul
Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shirk.
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
Were't not a shame--were't not a shame for him.
In this clay carcass crippled to abide."
After recording the passing of this beautiful character it seems almost sacrilege to record the very, very common things happening in this community but--
"The Moving Finger writes: and having writ,
Moves on; nor all of your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
Nor all your tears wash out a word of it."
The Texas University examined 1,201 students in English grammar, rhetoric and composition and only 21 made a grade of 90 or better. Four hundred and nine couldn't make a grade of 60. The institution is going to take up with high schools a proposal to remedy this condition. Hope they begin with the pupils of Bay View consolidated high school, for their language as heard wherever they gather is awful, appalling, horrible, frightful, direful, terrible, if you understand what I mean. Heard one of the tenth grade say, "I hain't never saw her since." Wonder how a teacher can listen to such murderous English and remain silent.
Paul Poiret, Paris couturier, says, "why dress both legs alike?" As a result Deauville had an outburst of legs displaying contrasting stockings. Paul should visit Collegeport.
Then comes Mrs. Christine Frederick who declares "the woman of today is no longer a cook. She's a can opener." Wonder which is right? Judging from some of the back yards, Mrs. Frederick said a truth.
Wonder how many of us ever think of Matagorda county as a little nation all by itself. It's true in the last analysis and we have some problems to solve that are ours alone. Some of our problems are the same as other counties, the State, the Nation are obliged to solve but we have our own. Here is where the Matagorda County Development Association can do a great work by holding monthly meetings to which every one is invited, whether he be a member or not. Make these meetings open forums and discuss the problems that confront the people of the county. After all is said, most National problems begin in the county organization and such meetings will be able to point the way to a solution of what otherwise might be vexacious.
If E. E. Wood offered a dairy ration costing thirty-five cents per pound, how much would he sell? Yet the cow milkers all over the State are feeding butter fat worth that much money to young calves.
A woman reader writes to ask "how in the world do you think up the titles of your thoughts?" Titles are easy. It's the dilution, the writing of the slum that taxes at times. My column is not as easy as cracking crackers.
The Daily Tribune, January 10, 1928
By Harry Austin Clapp
The recent freeze did considerable damage in truck and citrus trees but so far as I can observe did not effect the Opuntia Engelmanni. I had one plant of Opuntia Ellisiana frozen to the ground. Figs not damaged much.
Soon as the engine whistle announces the coming of the evening train, bearing the mail, the burghers congregate. Fifteen to twenty autos parked in front of the post office causing traffic congestion which calls for mounted police.
Mr. Eisel busy putting up groceries.
Seth Corse busy handing out mail. This done the autos begin to cough and sputter and disperse, and silence reigns. The burg is dead until another day.
Hope I will have one more mess of quail before the season closes.
Sunday, the eighth, opens bright and sunny, but with a chilly wind blowing. Can't have everything we desire in weather. If I had my way I would move to the Island of Tahiti.
Five quail appeared back of the house today. One month ago there would have been twenty-five.
A flight of cranes overhead. Don't see any babies with them.
An armadillo grunting along searching for grubs and bulbs.
A cat standing at attention in the grass. Presto! She jumps and emerges with a big rat.
Terminal Café must be a chilly place these days.
Socrates once said, "Bad men live that they may eat and drink, whereas good men eat and drink that they may live."
Impossible to pull the "twilight zone" and "complex" stuff on Governor Smith. What criminals need most is an "easy chair" in the twilight zone with an abundance of electric complex.
In each issue of the Tribune Cashway speaks the language all people understand. Wonder what has become of the "PDQ" grocery? It started out as a brave advertiser but seems to have been taken with a case of slumps.
Wonder if the McDa will ever meet in Collegeport? If so they will be well entertained.
Ora [Chapin] has bought a new papa guinea and has eleven momma guineas. She better read Ellis Parker Butler's "Pigs is Pigs" before going too far.
The writer of the Palacios column of the Beacon bewails the fact that the readers show little appreciation. If he will take my advice and write something from time to time on legs he will receive all sorts of letters, some of appreciation, some pretty strong cussing, but he will have the appreciation. He is foolish to write the column for love. Love is all right in its place but it buys no bread. Ought to join the Tribune staff. Zack Zackers and Harry Austin Clapp receive their checks every little while. People, especially men, are interested in legs, but few of them give a cuss whether Palacios is articulated or inarticulated. Webster defines articulated as "united by, or provided by articulation: jointed." There you are. Legs are articulated but I doubt if any community is every fully articulated.
For the second time Zack asks: "Suppose your wife wired: 'Have another chill' and the telegrapher made a 'd' out of the last letter." Now, for the second time I give the answer: "Say what the French soldier said." If Zack will read these thoughts he will pick up, now and then, some very bright fragments. Zack is a lucky dog to have a vacation. Wish Carey Smith would raise my dole so I could take one.
Woman's Club and Woman's Union holding joint meeting at the Carrick house. Subject for study, "The Old Missions of Texas."
The last of my dream for a creamery at Collegeport flitted Tuesday when the churn was shipped to Morning Glory Creameries. Collegeport will now ship its cream to Houston where it will be churned in that machine and the resulting Morning Glory shipped back for local consumption. It will be good butter.
Wonder why some of our folks do not subscribe to the Weekly Tribune? Every week they scurry about to borrow one so they may read "Thoughts."
E. R. Wood advertises calf meal, but when I wish to buy some, find it is not in stock.
Wonder how long Cecil Millican will "wish you a very merry Christmas?"
Mrs. Ash running her auto with a dry radiator.
Dr. Van Wormer writes that he will visit us this month with a party of Collegeport fig orchard owners. The League will give them an opportunity to absorb oyster soup from the new soup bowls.
These beautiful days the waters of the bay sparkle in the sunlight, dancing in the breeze and sing a song of Spring. Hope it comes true, but the pessimist says, "watch out for freezing weather Saturday." Guess God made the pessimist so the optimist would have company. Don't see any other reason.
Advices from fashion centers decree that skirts for women will be one inch longer. This is a move in the right direction. If it continues it will not be long before the sight of an ankle will be worth seeing.
Some of our folks might well take a lesson from Rio Hondo people. For years they have been isolated in the mud, nine miles from Harlingen. When the recent bond issue was passed they naturally wished to be on the main road, but using their good business sense of economy and the right spirit, they decided to make no effort in that direction and so will have a spur from the main road to their community. It lets them out and brings them home in safety and comfort, on a ribbon of cement. They threw no obstacles in the way of the county court but turned in to a man and gave aid to the project and now receive the thanks of everyone in the Valley.
Sorry the new Houston weekly is called The Gargoyle. I seem to see those fierce eyes gazing down from their high perch and it is a fearsome sight. If the new Gargoyle, will, like the original, frighten away evil, well and good and perhaps I may become accustomed to the name.
Dr. J. Torrance Rugh says that high heels destroy shapely knees by causing the muscles to be thrown out of balance. Wondered why we had so many homely knees in this community, but by observing I now find that in every case the girl wears high-heeled shoes. Take warning gals if you wish to preserve the daintiness of the knees.
The McDa is making an effort to bring this county into the sunlight, and as J. G. Holland so aptly says, "The expenditure of vital effort in some form is the measure. Nay, it is the maker of values." For years Matagorda county has jogged along in contentment. The time is here when we should blow our horn loud and strong and bring others to a realization of the potential possibilities we possess. With proper support the McDa will do it. When done there will be one more feather in Doctor Harkey's cap, for after all is said "he done it."
Ask Myrtle Fulcher if Spring is here. She knows.
Mrs. Corse has developed into something of a humorist. At least they say her report of the last meeting of the County Federation gave listeners that impression.
The old time rule of "ladies first" was observed at the Sing Sing prison Thursday night and Mrs. Ruth Snyder was first to sit in the chair. This gave Judd Gray very little advantage as indeed it should not. Wonder if the lesson will have a salutary affect on the many other women who carrying on an illicit love affair wish to be rid of their husbands. Hope so far the husband's sake.
Friday Collegeport was a female town, all right, for no mail arrived. Mail carrier at Bay City forgot to place it on the train. Cost him about five or six dollars and he will no doubt remember in the future.
Train crew ordered to take the engine to Kingsville Saturday night. S'all right for it means extra coin in the pay check.
Glad the quail season is closed. My bunch of one hundred and fifty now number less than twenty--Nuff for seed," as Jack Holsworth says.
The Braden family moved to Dunbar so guess we will see them oftener or perhaps sooner.
Adna E. Phelps, the new Fig Orchard manager, expected to arrive in few days. Congratulate him on the promotion. Fine, clean, capable young man, very active in community affairs. His intimates call him Red. Since I got the calling down from Mr. L. of Chicago, I hesitate to become familiar with Adna E.
Looks as though the route for our "nine-foot sidewalk" was settled at last and we thank God for it. The entire commissioners court was here yesterday rubbering around and decided to start the road at every one's front gate and built it past every one's farm. Stops all discussion, pleases all of our citizens and enables the Court to go ahead with letting of the contract. It will cost considerable money but whatthehell do we care so long as it is public money. The thing about this decision is that there will be no necessity for circulating petitions. A petition is an attractive affair and it takes a hard-boiled citizen to refuse his signature. Don't see any use in adding to the already heavy burdens of our county court. We want that "nine-foot sidewalk" and we want it damn pronto or the sooner the better.
"You have petitioned all the gods for my prosperity."--Shakespeare
Matagorda County Tribune, January 17, 1928
By Harry Austin Clapp
The title of these thoughts was suggested by Hugo Kundinger and criticism should be addressed to him and not to me. Inquisitiveness is only a polite term for "nose trouble," the desire to nose into other people's business. Webster defines it as "disposed to ask questions, especially in matters that do not concern the inquirer."
"(We) curious are to hear what happens."--Milton
"Nor need we with a prying eye survey
Well, anyway, the delayed mail came in Saturday night and all the burghers were loaded up with parcels, letters and papers, I had enough of the latter to keep me busy for two days.
For the benefit of my Springfield readers will say that the five-gallon hat, worn by Adna E. Phelps, while he was in that city, is the exception and not the rule in these parts. Adna just wished to show them that he had been down in the wild and wooly South and mixed up with the gun-toting cow boys. Even with that Adna is all right, and I predict good success for him in the fig orchards the coming season. He is what I believe to be a dependable sort of cuss. Glad he has returned for I can once more read the Beacon and gain some new inspiration.
Here is some advice to a certain young fellow: If you want to win her, loosen up. Take her out. She can use the cat for a fireside companion. I might add, buy her one of those sodelicious drinks that Hugo shakes up.
Wonder if Tetts sent Tom Fulcher one of those beautiful maidens which adorns his calendars. Guess he does not read this column.
They say, and now before I go farther remember, I start with "they say." Anway, they say that John Merck, finding his radiator dry and no water handy, filled it with milk and then was obliged to dig out the butter. It may not be true, but they say it is.
Oscar Barber down here making his regular before-election calls and wearing his usual charming, enchanting, fascinating, winning, pleasing smile. Oscar always wears it and I know that when his time comes his face will still smile in the face of the boatman. His smile won my vote, and, of course, that of the miserable wretch, for she votes as I dictate.
Four years ago, Joe Mangum visited me for an hour, but that was the last time. Have met him on the streets several times but he did not know me. If Joe wants two good votes, he better make us another visit. There are other fellows we may vote for. There is one fine thing about this electioneering, and that is, that, as a usual thing, applicants for office are glad to see the "rabble" once very two years. We must vote for Mrs. Pollard for we received a definite order from San Antonio and dare not disobey. As to the balance of the ticket it depends on whether we are visited or not. Oh, yes, we will vote for friend George [Harrison], for we believe that he has been of more benefit to this side of the bay than any commissioner we have ever had. This makes George perfectly safe. No cigars or cold drinks necessary, although the miserable wretch dotes on the peanut candy Hugo offers for sale.
The King's Daughters met with Mrs. Liggett Thursday and suffering tripe, how I wish that time would turn back in its flight and make me a daughter. Eats? Yum, yum! Could smell those Nelson noodles a mile and that Wright fried chicken and all the other things they served. L. E. Liggett was a lucky dog to be at home. Wish they would organize a King's Sons auxiliary.
One of our young matrons has turned snake charmer. Of course in doing this she loses some of her ability to charm men. She has taken on a pet snake of a brilliant green color, which indicates that it is of a poisonous and dangerous variety. Of course, as this column aims to state the truth, when it does not do otherwise, I must say that the snake is not a real live one, although it wriggles and squirms, but this lady seems to enjoy much sport with it as the snake frightens people into spasms. For me, give me a "running nose," for 'tis much more humorous, provided it runs well.
Cecil McNeil is the busiest man in town. He not only operates the Bachman store, fires up and delivers the engine to the waiting crew, but works over autos in his spare time.
Thursday night, the 26th, the League will meet in regular session and entertainment will be provided by Mesdames Chiles, Corse and Clapp. The League is still doing little things like buying stoves, soup bowls, etc.
A Chicago reader has written a letter to the Miserable Wretch and I will comment on it next week.
Wonder what I'll think about.
Looks as though Zack had gone out of the cracker business.
The Daily Tribune, January 21, 1928
Present by Bay City Newspapers, Inc.
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