By Harry Austin Clapp
[Local information taken from longer article in which Mr. Clapp comments on a graduation class that had "Be a Good Sport" as its motto.]
Well, anyway, Lindbergh sure put it over the reporters and made his get away in grand style, and to this good day none of them knows where he is. The miserable wretch read the news with delight and was simply tickled.
Burton D. Hurd took his party of guests down the pass on a tarpon hunt Tuesday, but because of the high seas the silver king was hunting other food and ignored the tempting baits.
The Misses Baird and Sirman, our teachers, have folded their tents and, like the Arab, stolen away. Wonder if either of them will ever return. Anyone know?
I read in the paper that the Matagorda Methodist church will be remodeled and repaired and it is sure good news to me, for one of my good friends in the person of Mrs. George Culver is a Methodist. Some years ago I promised to visit Matagorda and give her a bit of good old Episcopal doctrine, hoping, it would result in saving her. I still hope that some day I may be the instrument to yank her out of error.
Mrs. Burton D. Hurd gave a swell breakfast party Thursday morning.
A very large wolf was seen Thursday at the Jenkin's place, just jogging along minding his own business, which I suppose was looking over the Penland chicken roost and calf pens. John Merck is on his trail now, so Mr. Canis Occidentalis better look out.
It is the custom for newspapers to charge for names and addresses in classified advertising and so I will warn His Majesty King of Cambodia that is he takes any space in the Tribune it will cost him some good coin. His advertisement would read about like this: "Wanted a fresh milk cow, Holstein preferred. Give price and address. His Majesty King Preah Bat Samdach, Prea Sisowath, Monivong, Chanca-Vrapong, Krayveofa, Sulalay, Chang, Cring, Campuchea, Tipppeday." No wonder his subjects call him to breakfast by simply saying: "Come and get it Monivong."
"Thrice happy he whose name has been well spelt
In the dispatch, I knew a man whose loss
Was printed Grove, although his name Grose."
The good Lord of us all has been very lavish with His favors to us poor mortals the past two weeks, for He has given us about twenty-five inches of rain. While many are cussing conditions and looking at other pastures, it does me good to talk with Gust Franzen for he says, "we have so much to be thankful for it seems foolish to lose heart just because we have more rain than we need. I think that after the weather settles we will still have a good crop and, after all, none of us have drowned. We all have shelter and food and clothes." That's the sort of philosophy we all should put out.
Over the entrance to our school house is a large vacant panel. For years I have looked at this panel, and in my eye, I saw the words, "The Dena H. School." I still think it would be a fine thing to do this, in honor of a woman who had much to do with starting our first school. But the vision fades for it is destined to be called "the Jones School." The board of trustees have employed Mr. and Mrs. C. A. Jones of Huntsville and Miss Attress Jones of San Antonio. I am sure our folks will give these members of the great Jones family a royal welcome and fine cooperation.
Arthur Liggett enjoyed his 13th birthday this week. The Liggett family make much ado about birthdays, which is the correct thing. The custom binds the family together. Arthur received a big box which disgorged a potato, an onion, an apple, a rock, a fine new watch, a baseball, a splendid baseball mitt and various other necessities. He is now equipped to join the Collegeport team and assist in yanking the scalp from the pate of the Wadsworth gang.
Well, anyway, last week's elusion brought grins and smiles to the faces of the local Trib readers so it was not written in vain. This week's stuff is a bit serious but we cannot enjoy noodles every day for if that was our daily food we would become satiated, surfeited, gorged, glutted, palled and noodles would lose their charm. Next week something a bit stronger.
The Daily Tribune, June 6, 1929
By Harry Austin Clapp
I have known Miss O. Nion for many years but my earliest recollection is that she was what might be called a strong-minded person. I was very fond of her even then, but since I have lived in Texas, I have learned that she has a heart as mild and sweet as the breath of an angel. My fondness has turned to love. So long as I had determined to continue the acquaintance, it seemed best that I know something about this party's antecedents and so I looked first in the Bible where I found the gentle miss mentioned only once and that was in Numbers 11:5. Here it is recorded, "We remember the fish, which we did eat in Egypt freely, the cucumbers, and the melons, and the leeks, and the onion, and the garlick. But now our soul is dried away, there is nothing at all, besides this manna, before our eyes.
It seems therefore that in that early day the onion and garlick was prized and that there was some resentment when those old boys and girls were deprived of them. This established a family record that one might be proud of but I was not satisfied so I called on Burton D. Hurd and he informed me that under his direction a research had been made by the William Clendenin Research and Publicity Bureau and gave me a copy and reading I was amazed. I found that from the earliest people to this day the onion has been recognized not only as a splendid health-giving food but that its medicinal properties were as well known to the ancients as it is known today.
I learned something new about its chemistry, for its nitrogenous value runs about 50 per cent. It is rich in sugar and three times richer in carbohydrates as tomatoes, or even beets; yes, four times richer than spinach. That certainly was an eye opener to me and I have a greater respect for the onion than ever before. But that is not all, for it provides phosphoric acids in desirable quantities. I find that the onion is an aid to beauty and if our girls would use onions daily there would be little use for powder and paint to cover up the pimples caused by faulty digestion. It is nature's prophylactic, for it not only aids in intestinal assimilation but actually acts on the blood currents enriching the corpuscles. Doctors fear the onion, for as Mussey of the Ohio Medical College says, "If everybody ate onions the doctors would go out of business."
The quantity of onions consumed in the United States is enormous amounting to 21,191,000 bushels in 1927 of which only 2,298,000 bushels were imported. Such local consumption ought to make it a very valuable crop to grow and I am informed that a goodly profit is released to the grower at one dollar and fifty cents per bushel.
Here in the coastal plain country we have a soil that is well adapted to the growing of onions and that they can be grown here to perfection is known by us all.
It looks to me as though it offers another cash crop. A crop that is not easily perishable and finds ready market at a satisfactory cash price.
We are now using in our home for seasoning and flavoring an onion powder that is much more desirable than the raw vegetable. The fact that a process has been developed that will utilize unmerchantable bulbs and allow them to be dried and ground into a fine powder greatly enlarges the crop sales area. Seems to me that to the onion industry it means the same as the utilization of waste products at the meat packing plants means to the cattle industry. These bulbs are dried in a vacuum with low heat degree so thoroughly that every particle of water is eliminated and the water resulting comes from the machine, clean, colorless and without a trace of odor, proving that all the health and food properties are retained. The onion is a thankful plant for I know of no other that so quickly shows its thanks for clean, careful cultivation.
Given this and it laughs in the face of the grower, sending up its pretty slender, green spires that sparkle in the sun light. For several weeks us Homecrofters have been eating them baked, a most succulent dish, and we find that its satisfying qualities are enhanced.
Well, anyway, if you fall for Miss O. Nion and feel that your intimacy will be discovered just be nonchalant, fill your pipe with RJR and smoke up. Rest easy or the "affaired amour" will never be detected.
When I arrive home at mail time with my daily letter from "MRF" I found that some fairy had left a beautiful bouquet in the form of "Zea Mays" sometimes called roastin' ears and it did not take long for the pot to bile and we were soon stuffing our faces and incidentally painting our faces, clean to the ears as we sucked the succulent cobs. All the time ignorant of the giver, but we soon found out that it was Mrs. Gust Franzen who slipped this over us in our absence. All we can say is "thank you, Mrs. Franzen, and come again when we are at home."
Tuesday a cyclone formed, I judge about fifteen miles to the northeast and with glasses we watched it with some trepidation, agitation, perturbation, demoralization, consternation for fear it would turn our way. We saw it strike the ground four times, each contact seemed to throw a big mass of some material into the air. At last it dissipated in the clouds and we were once more at ease.
I see, by using my eyes, that the biscuit maker [Tom Fulcher] is grading the roads.
Verner L. Bowers strutting around in a new Chevvy some say it is one of those cabriolets, but it don't look cabby enough to me. Not painted green, either.
The Fig Company is putting in the foundation for a 30 X 40? warehouse in which to store sugar, cans and finished products.
Miss Ethel Nelson, in honor of her sixth birthday, entertained about fifteen little girls, but one boy being honored with an invitation. For that reason I was not invited, but I don't give a dam whether I was or not, for I learned that no noodles would be served, so what cared I?"
Now comes Emmitt Chiles, Junior, at the age of five, and retaliates with a stag party and no little gals are allowed or aloud.
The Woman's Union met this week with Mrs. Gust Franzen and all had the usual enjoyable time when they go to that hospitable house.
It is rumored that Miss Louise Walter will teach at Citrus Grove and Miss Dorothy Crane at Prairie Center, and that Miss Ethel Sirman will still teach in the county. It was reported that she intended to open a very select school.
Hope everyone read the school story by Mrs. Pollard carried in Wednesday's Tribune. I cannot remember that since I have lived here that any county superintendent has given the people of the county such comprehensive information about our rural schools. Interesting, instructive and I hope she will be allowed to continue her splendid service.
When Roger Clapp landed at Naxtasket, May 30th, 1630, he little thought that in 1929 one of his family in the eleventh generation would graduate from the Chicago University High School in the person of Nancy Barstow Clapp. At that time there was not one white soul between the Atlantic and Pacific. Take a map, look it over. Is it not wonderful what has come to pass in these three hundred years? Nancy is the daughter of Harry B. and Ann Barstow Clapp and therefore by all laws of God and man, my very dear, sweet, charming granddaughter, God bless her, guard her, give her a long, happy useful life. I drink to yea, my Nancy.
Mr. E. L. Hall, president of the Collegeport Industrial League, appointed Rev. Merriman L. Smith chairman to arrange for the annual Father and Son Banquet. He in turn arranged with the Woman's Union for the service and they appointed Mesdames Liggett, King, Nelson, Holsworth and Crane a committee to have charge of the banquet. This guarantees something sodelicious. I suggest the following menu as an appealing one:
Sliced Oranges strung on Noodles
Noodles au gratin
Fried in butter noodles
Carrie Nelson's Chicken Noodles
Noodles au claire
Ice Cream with Noodle decoration
Coffee served in cups with Noodles
A few more Noodles. Then more Noodles.
If folks would eat freely of the Famous Carrie Nelson Noodles we would have more than six Christians in this burg. No woman with a tummie filled with noodles can ever be catty. There be some who never eat noodles.
The Daily Tribune, June 11, 1929
By Harry Austin Clapp
[Local information taken from longer article.]
Miss Elizabeth Eisel comes out with the prettiest dress in the burg and last night she wore it again that I might be pleased. I felt honored by the compliment but the finest thing about the dress is the sweet, well-behaved young girl that is in it. I hope Elizabeth will wear it often and when, as and if she does, wear it with a smile. The combination is irresistible.
Doggone it, here I have been dreaming of noodles at the Father and Son banquet and now the maker of the Famous Carrie Nelson Noodles has done gone and went to Kansas. No noodles for this affair, and my heart is weighed down with grief. The whole Nelson family went, and all will be missed, but I am glad that Roy Nelson is to see his father. No fellow can see his father too often these fleeting days.
At the post office one young lady meeting a man, said: "How do you do Mr. M---?" And another coming in at the same time greeted the same man with a "Howdy." Question: Which was the lady girl?
The second annual Father and Son banquet, sponsored by the Industrial League, will be held Wednesday night, June 26th, at the Community House. Every man is expected to bring his son or if one is not available, some other fellows' son. Tickets are 50 cents each and may be had from Rev. Merriman L. Smith who is the Mayor Domo.
Seth Corse dolls his auto buggy up with a new coat of paint--a most excellent job and quite artistic.
Verner L. Bowers with his new cabby is keeping up his reputation as the local pulse pusher.
Growing beans at 133 hampers per acre and at $3.00 per hamper sure pays, and I might add that it also pays to advertise, and the latter often pays more than three dollars per hamper.
Along comes Miss Frances Mayfield, the county health nurse, urging folks to register the birth of new babies. We register calves, colts, hogs, dogs and even chickens. Why not register little babies, little darlings on whom angels have smiled and to whom God has given souls? Anyone know why not?
Frank King pulling on his cob pipe.
L. E. Liggett driving his new truck.
John Merck buying a new truck of the Chivvy breed. Trucking business must be good.
John Heisey hauling four hundred pounds of cream to the station.
Louis Walter sticks to the crooked-stem pipe.
Wish Frank Ives, of St. Louis, would drive down in his auto this summer. Wish E. L. Ives, of Bloomington, would also come, but not in an auto. We want him to ride up to our door on a buck-skin pony.
I and the miserable wretch were invited out to a Sunday dinner last week.
It would be a courteous, polite, civil and gracious act if the party who drives a Studebaker would cut down on speed while passing through the business section. Careless driving may cost the life of some child one of these days.
Mrs. Carl Boeker, accompanied by Ruth and Kent, take a trip to visit folks in the land of the Illini.
The Woman's Club met Thursday at the Hurd home with Mrs. Den Hurd as hostess. A splendid program was rendered. I can testify as to the quality of refreshments for I was remembered with generous slices of cake, a big gob of ice cream made by Hugo at the Collegeport Pharmacy, and a huge tankard of mint julep punch. Guess I'll join the cub. Wonder where Mrs. Dena secured the mint.
I have conferred on Robert Murry the degree of D. V. S. for his skill in operating on one of our animals what was badly injured. All should address him as Doc from now on.
Well, anyway, the fellow who started Father's Day sure picked the correct date, for Sunday, the 16th, is also my birthday. I'll not tell how many I have enjoyed, but the curious are requested to engage the miserable wretch in conversation. She will tell about it and incidentally give my life history.
The latest news is that Seth Corse has sold his Ford and now flashes about in a new Ford touring with a bright green coat. Pretty spiffy.
Dorothy Franzen having finished the prescribed course at Rice Institute, has been awarded the degree of Bachelor of Arts. This young lady is not only a credit to her family but to the entire community. We have all watched her progress with interest and I am sure all join in congratulating her on her success, and best wishes for a long, and useful life.
The Daily Tribune, June 18, 1929
By Harry Austin Clapp
Sunday, June 16th, was a wonderful day for me in every way except one. It seems that there is always a fly in the butter. MBF sent me a fine gift from San Antonio, and to fill the measure, along comes a telegram wishing me a happy day and sending her love to both of us. What a wonderful, thoughtful, loving girl I have been blessed with.
Sister Lucy remembered me and so did my good friend E. L. Hall, also Mrs. Dena Hurd. Mary Louise was in St. Mark's church that morning and, at her request, I went to the service at the local church. I expected it would be a Father's Day service, as this was observed by practically every church in the Nation. But it was not to be so, for the pastor announced "this is children's day." Don't know where he got the dope. He evidently did not read the papers, for all of them devoted columns to the fact that Sunday, June 16th, was the day that father was to be featured. I was disappointed, but fortunately I have the power to transport myself across the space and found myself by the side of Mary Louise in St. Mark's church in San Antonio. We three were together. I at last awakened to hear about a chicken with white feathers, and ever since I have been wondering, "where did the chicken go?"
Well, anyway, I had a fine day even if a fly did tangle itself in the butter.
The King's Daughters met this week at the community house, simply because one whose business it was to arrange for a meeting place failed to do so.
Seth Corse did not attend church because he was obliged to go to Blessing to show off his new green auto.
Christian Endeavor was led by Miss Louise Walter, which guaranteed a fine program.
It was my good luck to have the pleasure of taking Clifford Franzen under my wing for the Father and Son banquet. I am well pleased that I could hook this lad, especially as I could not have either his sisters, Dorothy or Mamie, this being a strictly stag affair and no gals "aloud." If girls were allowed, believe I would have taken Elizabeth Eisel, provided she wore her pretty new dress.
Was disappointed that Hugo and Hattie were not at church, but suppose the ice cream was melting.
Indeed, ma'am, I do really and truly desire to know where that white chicken did go.
Rumor hath it that early in next month the village will have a visitor in the person of Oscar Chapin, T. A. who now dwells in the pueblo by the Alamo.
Well, its time that summer guests arrive, and so here comes from New Orleans, Mr. and Mrs. C. G. Eisel, brother of our townsman, Harry Lewis Eisel, and with them Mrs. Kate Dwyer of Marshall, Texas, a sister of Mrs. Eisel. Hope these people will have an enjoyable time, but they better not carry away Francis or Elizabeth Eisel.
Rev. M. A. Travis up from the Magic Valley spending his vacation fixing up a house for another visit when he will be accompanied by his family.
Look! Who comes here? Well, well, well, it is what used to be little Stanley Duckworth, but now a big, tall, wholesome looking lad. Wish the entire Duckworth family would move back with George in his old job. There be some folks who did not appreciate when he was operating this end of the Mopac but reckon they would now.
Frame work all up for the Fig Orchard Company's new warehouse. Cement foundation and floor and much need facility.
As I listened to Sousa's band the other night via the radio I marveled at the wonder and then the thought came that God has more wonderful things in store for us just as soon as our senses are attuned to receive them. Isn't it just wonderful to be alive these days?
This day marks the highest ascent of the sun. Tomorrow the day will shorten just a tweenie weenie bit and soon the days will be here and we may enjoy the long evenings "when the lamps are lit."
Verner Bowers takes a trip to visit his people at Mont Belvieu.
Mrs. Ash handing out groceries in Mr. Bower's absence, and trade ought to pick up.
The King's Daughters met at the community house this week with the regular work, splendid luncheon and an educational program.
Bunch of photographs showing Mary Louise on the lawn in front of the apartment she occupies, with three other girls. To I and the miserable wretch she looks like several million dollars, but at that, no price would buy her. She is too precious, means too much in our lives. She satisfies and that's enough for us.
Cotton is coming on in good condition and I doubt the loss from the heavy rains will amount to more than fifteen per cent.
Corn is growing so fast that one can easily hear it crack.
This morning about two o'clock the moon was shining bright and a mockingbird thinking it was time for every one to arise began his morning concert. What a happy bird he is, and how wonderful is his song. How he leaps in the air never missing a note. How can anyone be so thoughtless as to kill one of these beautiful songsters?
Saw a long, slender snake yesterday all speckled with green and black. I put my foot on him and he shook his tail vigorously in anger so I let him go. Harmless variety that is a friend of man for he preys upon field mice and other small rodents all of which are harmful.
A big crane dropped down in the barnyard. A big flash of blue. He stood like a statue and as I looked I saw a Japanese painting. As I moved he flapped his wings and was off for other adventures.
A mourning dove's nest with three eggs and a broken shell.
The second bloom of wild flowers is on and the pastures are beginning to be covered with color. Flowers never look so beautiful as on nature's background of green. When I see flowers I think of the miserable wretch who has been so good to me for many years and so I pluck a bunch and bring them to her and she knows that the story is told again. There is nothing in this world better than a wife who is loyal and loving.
June 21st, the longest day of the year, burst forth "brite and fare" but I did not realize how fair until an auto drove into the yard and from it appeared my old friend, Bert Carr, and a fine looking young man who was introduced as his son. Bert informed me that he was not out for any office and was just making a friendly call. We were glad to see him as always are and if he wants any office in this county he can have my two votes any day. Guess I'll have to take a trip to Bay City and inspect that wonderful grandson of whom Bert says "he is the finest in the world." Of course, that is not true, for the finest grandchild in the world lives on Blackstone Avenue, Chicago.
On Mrs. Dena Hurd's return from a trip to Bay City she commented on the beauty of the court house and said, "How I do miss the clock." Others miss this old friend, also.
Stanley Wright selling a bunch of calves and receiving a top price. Says he is going to sell his Holstein cows because they have too large udders and give him too much milk. Makes him tired milking. Rather milk three ordinary cows, producing same amount of milk because he has a short rest between these.
The Collegeport Woman's Club was represented at the County Federation meeting in Matagorda by Mesdames Merriman L. Smith and Lester Liggett.
I very well remember when I used to go to the butcher shop and with timid voice say, "Mr. Baker, let me have some liver. I want it for our cat." Mr. Baker knew what I wanted it for and only smiled. Now days I say plainly that I want two pounds of liver and cheerfully pay two bits per pound. Don't times change? Well, anyway, isn't life wonderful?
The Daily Tribune, June 25, 1929
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