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Collegeport Articles

June 1937

By Harry Austin Clapp

We are back home from a trip abroad. A trip where “The West begins”—“Where the west is best”—“where by test the air is sweeter”—“where folks are more friendly” and lots more boo-boo. Anyway, we are back home and very happy to be here. I fill up my old cob with R. J. R., sit in my easy chair and as the smoke rings rise, I see pictures of our adventures and I look out for miles across the pastures and see the waving grass, the sweet prairie flowers that seem to beckon a welcome home. I hear my mocking bird singing on the chimney top and hunting a nesting place in the rambling rose. I hear the sweet whistle of my blackbirds as they sway on the branches of the “old willow tree” and I am telling you boys that it all looks good to me. Enough of this for the dead line is only forty-five minutes distant.

Monday P. M. came a man from Elkhart, Indiana, returning from a trip to the Valley. He was born and raised in my home town, White Pigeon, Michigan. He knew me as a lad, knew my family and now lives in Elkhart and is employed by the same firm as my nephew, Edwin Watson. He sees my sister and the kin folk including my son nearly every week. Fine visit and he had hardly left before a big Buick with colored chauffer drove in with my cousin, Mrs. Norman Morrison (Nellie Clapp) of Corsicana and what Nellie did not bring me is not on the grocery list. Same day we all went to Palacios where we were guests of George Harrison at the Pavilion Café and a fine fish dinner. Next day Nellie left for a short stay at Palacios and then home. She is a very lonely cousin and we were sorry when she left us. Followed three days and then came Frances Mayfield to take us to San Antonio as first guests in her new five-room bungalow at 435 Broadview Drive, Woodlawn Hill. The estate covers two and a half acres and is being set to fruit and ornamentals. A very sweet and beautiful place and being on a hill, five miles from the city plenty of fresh air is freely given. Monday morning we were royally entertained until Tuesday morning when George Harrison came for us for the home bound trip and we certainly were glad to be back in Homecroft. Saturday we had breakfast in a swell little café in Ganado with most excellent coffee, toast, eggs and bacon. Charges so light as to surprise us and service liberal and charming. Victoria, Cuero, Smiley, Nixon and Seguin. The latter is the finest town of them all. Plenty of evidence of good business, plenty of cash, beautiful parks, community houses, play grounds, fine lawns, flowers shrubbery and a general atmosphere of prosperity. Several beautiful roadside inns among them the Red Mill, built of rock and service by a sweet girl dressed in flaming red. The hamburgers and beer were both above par, in fact, way above. Seguin is a swell town and has them all on the side. On return we stopped at LaVernia for early breakfast and again found splendid coffee and service in a tiny roadside inn.

Arrive home on the 25th in time to attend the Collegeport Day celebration, but I was physically unable to be present for I landed completely exhausted. It was a great week for us, but poor Jimmy suffered for he would not drink the water and he resented being tied up, but he was a good sport and stood the inconvenience, but gave every evidence of joy at being back where he is the boss dog. The celebration on the 25th was well attended and many old day citizens came in for the occasion. The tables were well spread and covered with a delightful medley of delicious foods. Mrs. Hurd had charge and gave a splendid talk first on the program.

In our drive of about 400 miles we saw not one highway officer, so guess they just all the taking a vacation.

Mr. Korn brought us a sack of new spuds from the garden. Fine large potatoes, clean, smooth, good color and one weighed six ounces. Just shows that good potatoes may be produced if one knows how.

We received an invitation from the Registrar, faculty and board of Texas U to attend the commencement exercises June 4th, at which time Miss Ruth Harrison will receive her degree. The invitation is engraved, is illustrated with pictures of campus scenes and contains twenty-seven pages. We give Ruth our hearty congratulations on her success. She is a fine young lady with charm and poise.

I noticed that turkeys are in the discard and the farmers out near Nixon are going into chickens. Saw several plants with, I judge, two hundred growing houses. It suggested that the chicken business means money spent. Crops are good in the San Antonio, Seguin, Nixon section—much better than in our own county. Grass in plenty.

For months I have planned to have an all day birthday party on June 16th, my seventy-fifth birthday, but much to my sorrow and disgust, I am forced to give up the idea for am not physically able to undertake the work and nervous strain which it would involve. My health is very much too delicate and it is so easy to disturb the equilibrium. Guess I’ll have to paddle along without my party.

Among the first men I met when I can to Matagorda County about thirty years ago, was Doctor Scott and for many years we have enjoyed a fine spirit of friendship. As the years passed, my respect and regard increased and so I grieve as I learn of his passing and add his name to the others who have passed during the last year. Doctor Scott was a good sport and I am certain that where he is now he is also among the good sports who have passed into the great unknown land.

Just another word about my birthday. I am not happy in giving up my plans for I feel quite certain that when the year 2012 arrives, I’ll not be here for my second birthday party. You see the world wags on.

Sunday night came Mr. and Mrs. Clifford Franzen and she is just one lovely flower that has caught my love and admiration, also Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Wells and Mrs. Gustave Franzen. They informed me that little James Franzen, who has been in Memorial Hospital, Houston, for several weeks, has been returned to his home and this is good news for at one time James was in a very serious condition.

Now is the time to visit Torre’ Vista. The water is fine for bathing.

The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, June 3, 1937

By Harry Austin Clapp

Before the day it has always been my custom to explain what I want in the gift line and as June 16 is my 75th, I am inclined to tell just what I want so here is a list. A sled on which is seated my little sister, Lucy. A pair of warm red mittens, knitted by Grandma Austin and provided with connecting strings slipped through the sleeves of my jacket. A little red express wagon so I may help Lucy gather paper rags. A ride with Grandpa Austin behind a Filly a swell racker. Who has seen a racker these days? A big slice of salt risin’ bread spread generously with Grandma’s sweet cream butter. A chance to sit at breakfast with my grandparents and eat pork sausage and buckwheat cakes. I want to place my face in mother’s lap and tell her how sorry I am that I have been a very naughty boy. I want the chance to go to church with father, mother and my two sisters and sit in my Sunday school class with my teacher, Mrs. Newkirk. I want a pair of skates, the kind that clamp on and then go skating with John Davis on Parker’s pond. I want a big red balloon which will float at the end of a string. I want a pair of boots with copper toes and red tops on which is a picture of George Washington. I want my dogs, Curley, Zack and Prince. I want to go down to the race and try the deep hole. I want a chance to see the big stone wheels grind the wheat at Mr. Hamilton’s mill. I am tired of wearing clothes made from father’s old suits and I want a “hand-me-down.” I want a dog harness with brass trimmings—one that will fit Prince. I want to hear mother say, “Harry it is time for bed so wash your feet.” I want a new fish line so I can catch a string of shiners. I want a new red bobber. I want to go to Lorings for a quart of milk. I want to play “high-low” with Mark Jackson. I want a whistle made from a willow stem. I want a bag of marbles with plenty of glassies and I want them in a leather sack. I want a generous hunk of smoked halibut from father’s store. I want a package of fire crackers. I want the chance to hold the big drum when the minstrels parade the town. I want to have a lemonade stand July Fourth and treat my sister, Lucy, to an ice cold lemo. I want to see great-grandfather May fill and light and smoke his new clay pipe. I want such a pipe with which to blow soap bubbles so as they float in the air my sisters may burst them with a finger thrust. I want to stand in the sink while mother washes my ears and sisters delight in my howls. I want a silver cup with my name on the side. I want a big kite with a long rag tail and a streamer on the end. I want a red hoop with little brass bells on the inside—bells that will jingle as I roll it. These are a few things I want, but most of all I want to hear my mother pray that God will help me to be a good man. Who knows, but June 16 on my 75th day I’ll see and have some of these precious gifts.

Friday the Matagorda County Federation of Woman’s Clubs will hold their meeting in this place. Mrs. Dena D. Hurd is not only president of the local club, but of the County Federation. A luncheon will be served at 12 noon to delegates and guests and at 1:30 a swell program will be given, to be followed with a reception at Torre’ Vista. Few women know more about handling such affairs as Mrs. Hurd and therefore those who are fortunate enough to attend will enjoy a delightful afternoon. Oh, sure, if able, I’ll be there in time for the lunch.

Jimmy has just recovered from the effects of his trip around the world and is becoming natural again. ‘Twas a tough trip for us humans, but much more so for Jimmy, for he did not enjoy being attached to a chain night and day. Jimmy is a sweet pooch.

I am very sorry that because of the strange and unexplained action of the local board, Elliott Curtis has been obliged to seek other fields. He is a fine young man, active in Sunday school, sports of youth, a good teacher and a real addition to the community. Always ready to aid in civic work, he will be missed by many of us who have learned to value this young man. I think the board made a grievous error when they repudiated a contract made by the retiring board. No explanations are given the school patrons but it appears to me that in the execution of this young man political debts have been paid and personal grudges satisfied. I may be wrong, am as a rule, but this is as it appears to me. Who will question my right to think and criticize the action of public officials?

Reading the Tribune, it appears that nearly all the men of the county have been honored with Notary Public medals, I mean all men of importance which includes Ben R. Mowery. Impossible to turn a corner without meeting a notary—wish we had a war and could send the notary bunch to the trenches.

Friday, June 4, a three-months rain vacation accompanied by stout winds and heavy rain, which was worth thousands of dollars to the farmers of this county. Sunday another rain fell and as result corn is looking quite pert while cotton is all smiles. On our place cotton has been planted twice and much to our regret the last seed spoiled before the rain arrived. Farming is sure a great gamble and now that betting on the ponies will become illegal in ninety days I do not see how farmers can possibly break even for their only bet is corn to win and no chance to put a dollar on anything for show or place. The repeal of the racing law will not keep people from investing. People enjoy taking a shot at the uncertain.

Our local sea captain named John put to sea the other day in a ship with one oar. Began drifting so heaved the anchor overboard. Drift still going out to sea so Cap called “all hands and the cook on deck” and as swarthy a band of pirates as ever scuttled a ship, poured from the fo castle but they were unable to “cat and fish the anchor” so the good ship dragged or drugged her anchor until she came to rest in the surf on the Palacios side. A rambling motor boat took off the crew, put a line on the leaky wreck and towed them to the Collegeport dock. Moral is, do not go to sea in a leaking boat with one oar.

Went over to Palacios Tuesday and spent two days with my cousin, Mrs. Nellie Clapp Morrison, who had rented for a week a large shack on the bayou with twelve beds and so we were invited to snuggle in two of them. Good eats—good drinks—good shuteye, but glad to be home again and nestle in our own hay pile.

Went out to the oil well and saw her spouting 105 barrels per day. Entertained by Dr. and Mrs. Hood with grand ice cream and angelic cake. Saw the Burkes much to our delight. Met the head push of the Beacon and was promised notice in the paper. I like to see my name in print. Guess most folk do. The Beacon is a sparkling sheet—a credit to the burg. Palacios has no bank—no passenger rail service and to lose the Beacon would about break the bank of Monte Carlo. Collegeport has no ban, no train service, no paper and the only thing that saves the burg from the inside of a doughnut is the hot shot school board. If we lose the group of public life savers the community will be only a rubbed out place on the map down at the end of the road. The Palacios oil well number two presents a scene of much activity. The derrick is a graceful structure, so slender, but showing great strength. At night it glows with numerous electric lights and the flaming gas flare lights up the country for a mile about. Men working night and day to bring in another producer. It is thrilling. Several cars of oil shipped and seven on the rack loaded and ready to highball. All things give evidence that we have a big oil field at our door. You see it is only about two miles from Collegeport to the number two well, so let us keep our panties up and be patient. A sweet warehouse and office has been built and painted a brilliant blue. Other buildings in same style. Sure looks good to muh.

The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, June 10, 1937

By Harry Austin Clapp

It was a sweet day. That eleventh day of June, A. D. 1937. Cotton boll clouds floated across the blue of the sky. Cotton clouds showing shadow and light and often purpled with the rays of the dancing sun. And thus God set the scene in natural beauty and loveliness for the annual quarterly meeting of the County Federation of Woman’s Clubs. It will go down in history as one of the most successful meetings ever held by the Federation.

Credit is due Mrs. Dena D. Hurd, president of the local club and president of the Federation, and her able assistant, Mrs. L. E. Liggett, secretary of both organizations. I doubt if there may be found in the county two women more capable of handling an affair of this sort. It’s the knowing how and they know how. I counted twenty-seven autos parked in front of the church house where the business session was held. The registrants numbered sixty-five and the bureau of registration was in charge of that veteran, Mrs. Rena Wright. The business session began at ten a. m. and consisted of hearing reports from the attending clubs, reports from Mrs. Patricia Martyn, county health nurse, and Mrs. Leola Cox Sides, county home demonstration agent. All of these reports were of interest and some brought hearty applause as the work of the particular club was related.

Many business items were handed rapidly for Mrs. Hurd is a minute woman. She believes in doing things on time and so when the dead line was reached at 12:30 the business session closed and all adjourned across the way to the Mopac House for the luncheon. Here, thanks to those behind the guns, meaning Mesdames Nelson, Guyer, Crane, Lashbrook and King were found tables spread with fine linen, beautiful glass and many fine flowers, among them the magnolia. The menu consisted of chicken salad, snap beans, potato chips, cucumber pickles, hot buttered rolls, ice tea and angel food cake covered with goo-goo whipped cream. I sat next to Mrs. Wagner and she, fearing to become fat, gave me her goo-goo and I, having no fear of embonpoint, greedily devoured two portions of the whipped delicacy. The table service was always present and never intrusive and rendered by some of the Girl Reserves, Misses Ethel Nelson, Ella Guyer, Maude Lashbrook and Emma Franzen, four very charming young girls who served daintily, always keeping a watchful eye on the guests. Ninety plates were arranged and ninety plates were used. The kitchen was a busy place as the corps of that department were busy with preparation. Thanks to those who worked behind the scenes. Mrs. Clapp was greeting hostess at the business session and Mrs. Jones rendered the same service at Mopac House. In both cases the visitors were met with a smiling face and a cordial invitation to be at home and they were. It was a happy affair for me. I met so many of my women friends and I love them all. So many of them, it is impossible to make an enumeration. I was taken over by that charmer, that very lovely girl, Mrs. Gussie Slone, and on my return she was on hand and all I had to say was “Home James.”

After luncheon with its delights was over all adjourned to the church house where Mrs. Calvin Baker gave a demonstration of crayon drawing, a swell stunt, and Mrs. Vernon King Hurd sang a number and an encore with her sweet, beautiful, satisfying voice. Mrs. Dorothy Corporon at the piano. The committee on resolutions reported that some minor business transacted and all went to Torre’ Vista for a reception given by Mrs. Hurd. Here was found an art exhibit that was startling in its numbers, variety and beauty. Two classes of prizes were given, one to the individual with the finest display and one to the club. The exhibits consisted of many kinds of handiwork such as napkins, comforters, towels, paintings, crochet work, knitting, etc. Prizes were awarded by vote of those present and Mrs. Anna D. Crane took first in the individual display and Mrs. George Fanchon of Wadsworth took second and of the club award, Wayside Club of Palacios took first, and the Blessing club second. Seldom have people of the county been favored with the privilege of viewing such a beautiful display of art. It was lovely beyond description. I am a lover of handsome woman and as I viewed the faces of the beautiful women present, saw the swell dresses, my lover’s heart expanded with joy that I had after a year of illness, been allowed to be present and associate with the women who are doing things in Matagorda County. I had a happy day and my heart is filled with pride. I am proud of the president, the secretary, the kitchen aides and I am proud that Collegeport had opportunity to once more demonstrate its hospitality. So I write “Yo Ho! You Feds.” You are going places, doing things.

Captain John, local fisherman, down in the river bottoms saw what he thought was a honey bee fly into a knot hole in a tree. Thinking of honey he cut down the tree and split it open and from it issued a dense cloud of Notary Publics (see Tribune for list). Not a drop of honey was found for the notaries had consumed every drop. Notaries have a well developed sense of smell and they all love honey. Cap John estimated that there is one notary for every two men in the county. One of the escaping notaries had “BR” on his back so we all know that our local notary got some honey. Gosh, all fish hooks, how will we be able to feed the horde of notaries?

With the death of Clarence Walters of Alice, Texas, the list of old friends who has passed on during the last year reaches nine. One year ago every one walked the earth, making plans for new ideals. Clarence was the manager of Victoria Chamber of Commerce, went to Alice, organized a chamber there and was its manager. Served as postmaster for eight years but when Mr. Farley took charge, Clarence, being a red hot Republican, was cast into the hot pot. Served as mayor several terms. Fine friend of many years.

Sometimes I think that when God took a handful of stars and threw them against the turquoise blue, that some dropped to earth and with their dazzling brilliance added to the comfort and joy of human life. Among the nine friends who have been translated during the past year, two were stars of illustrious, star-eyed of the first magnitude and I know they brought comfort and happiness to many and left them with finer ideals of life. It’s a sweet world if one looks with star eyes. The reaper reaps when the grain is ripe.

P. S.—The luncheon would have been a complete success had there been served a tank of the Famous Carrie Nelson Noodles and a “Cherry” apricot pie.

The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, June 17, 1937

Co. Federat’n of Women’s Clubs Meets Saturday

Collegeport Woman’s Club Entertains on Twenty-First Anniversary

Observing the 21st birthday of the Matagorda County Federation of Women’s Club, was the theme used for the quarterly meeting held last Friday, June 11, in Collegeport with the Woman’s Club of that place, one of the oldest clubs in the county as host. The day was ideal for such a gathering and delegates were there from all the federated clubs except one, Matagorda.

Mrs. Dena Hurd, the new president, was in the chair and was ably assisted by Mrs. L. E. Liggett, secretary and treasurer, and Mrs. Claire Pollard, parliamentarian.

Reports from standing committees and clubs were given during the morning session as were those of the County Health Nurse, Mrs. Patricia Martyn, and Home Demonstration agent, Mrs. Leola Cox Sides.

At 12:30 the business closed and all adjourned to the Mopac House where a delicious lunch was served to the more than 80 guests. After lunch we again assembled in the community house for the remainder of the business session, which was opened with Mrs. Vernon K. Hurd, in her usual sweet way, singing, “I Never Grow Too Old to Dream,” with Mrs. Dorothy Corporon at the piano. After the adoption of the constitution and by-laws as corrected by the committee previously appointed and report of the resolution committee, the meeting adjourned to meet with the Van Vleck P. T. A. in September the invitation having been extended earlier in the day.

To the home of Mrs. Hurd was next in order, to view the display of hand work for home decoration, arranged by Mrs. Calvin Baker. Prizes were given for two classes, one to the club having the nicest display and one to the individual, awarded by vote of those present.

The Wayside Club took first place and Blessing Library Association second for Club displays, while Mrs. Anna Crane, of Collegeport, was given first for individual and Mrs. George Fanchon of Wadsworth, second. The entire program was one of interest and everyone pronounced the June meeting at Collegeport one of the best the Federation has had for some time, and the 21st birthday celebration a grand success.

Palacios Beacon, June 17, 1937

By Harry Austin Clapp

It was a beautiful day. A blue sky. Fleecy clouds floating as if on the tide of a restful sea. A woman resting from confinement held a new born babe close to her breast her eyes showing a mother’s pride. She was a beautiful woman, young, with blue eyes, light brown hair, arms and shoulders from an angel’s mold, skin as white as snow. The baby also had blue eyes and he snuggled against the breast seeking what he sought. The family was a joyful one for here was the longing for a man child. The babe grew into boyhood, young manhood, matured man and so June 16th, 1937 marked his seventy-fifth birthday. In his optimistic egotism he thought it an event of national, state, county and local interest. No word from Roosevelt, no message from Allred, no wire from Barber, and so his happy egotism flunked. Not one county friend called. He was to be satisfied with near neighbors. He thought that among the hundreds of readers of his column a score at least would send messages but only four came. The S. B. Sims family, Detroit, Janie and Louie Duffy of Beeville. “Sorry our card was late but just want you to know we are thinking about you and hoping you may have many more birthdays, Emma Franzen, Charles W. Hartman, Springfield, Ill., “God bless you for your kindness which you bestow on me. For your every act of friendship and tender sympathy, for all the joy you have scattered along the way have really mattered far more than I can say. Happy Birthday, Mr. Clapp.” From my sister, Lucy, Ethel Nelson, “May you have many more happy birthdays, Love,” Ethel brought me a big dish of them Famous Carrie Nelson Noodles and six big cakes. Mr. Boeker sent cigars. Mr. Kopecky sent two very cold cans and on the side was the word “Pabst.” Not knowing the contents I opened the cans and they were full of fizzy water which tickled my nose and caused me to sneeze but good stuff and I thank Mr. Kopecky for his gift. Mrs. Liggett brought me the handsomest cake I have ever seen. The cake the food of angels, was covered with thick icing and the top held precious stones, scrolls and other ornaments and in the center two long scrolls, one inscribed in pink script, “Happy” and the other “Birthday.” It was a sweet beauty. The Goodmans came from Houston and brought me a blue berry pie, a birthday cake, much needed shaving cream from Mama, a handsome check from my daughter, Mary Louise, and before I could cash it the bank closed its doors. Banks should be compelled to give checkholders ample notice before they bust up. But a letter I wished for never came. It did not come on Father’s Day, either, but one from my wonderful girl said, “Daddy, if all the fathers in the world were stood in a line and I told to pick my choice, I would walk down the line and pick my daddy the finest father any girl ever had.” Oh, well, the birthday went off okeh, but you just wait until 2012, for that year I’ll have a grand birthday. I forgot Mr. Goodman brought me a quart of Angelica, a quart of mixed toddie and a second quart of Port which arrived empty because of a loose cap. Doggone such luck.

Went to Bay City Monday with the Shoemaker family. Hair cut at Ack Barnetts. Distressed to learn my old friend, Carey Smith, Sr., was suffering from a relapse and confined to his bed. Hope for a quick rally and another of those editorials. I give congratulations on his having such a son as Junior. Weldon Smith busy putting our show pictures told us that when we wanted to see the show to walk in and if anyone stopped us to tell ‘em we owned the show. Visited Bachman’s store, a beautiful place filled with handsome goods all of high quality.

What promised to be a week of great happiness was almost spoiled by a wire from Mary Louise announcing the death of our good old friend, R. W. Persons. It turned the week into one of mourning, tears instead of a week of laughter. Among my callers were: Mrs. J. Morgan Smith of Matagorda, with her son and his wife and her daughter, Mrs. Vernon King Hurd. Mrs. Smith brought me a sack of luscious peaches. Much appreciated gift. I reckon J. Morgan had something to do with the planting and watering. Fine folk and I was happy by their welcome call even if I did have to receive in pajamas, but that is quite recherché or aufair or something very nice. Well although the week was one loaded with grief and disappointment, we had much joy.

Then to fill the cup, Jimmy disappeared. I feel sure someone carried him away, but we hope that he will return to us. He is such a sweet, joyful pooch and gave us so much happiness with his loving cute ways and his dog talk.

Sunday we drove with the Goodmans to Palacios and called on Doctor Wagner, the miracle man, and his handsome wife, who looked swell, and then to the Harrisons where we were served swell ice cream and had a most happy time with George and Lena and Ruthie. Swell day and I felt fine, but this day I pay. I am writing this copy under compulsion. Every effort is made with pain and I can hardly sit at the Corona. I hope readers will remember this as they read. I am unable to write more so forgive for this week anyway.

The Matagorda County Tribune, June 24, 1937

By Harry Austin Clapp

Jimmy is a registered Fox Terrier. His registered name is Sunny Jim and well named for he was a Sunny Jim. He was six years old last April. Weighed about ten pounds. Black and white with stubby tail; with a few white hairs at end. His face was elaborated with tan around his eyes and forehead and his nose had taken on a frosty appearance due no doubt to increased age. His neck and breast was white. His back near the tail had a strip where he was infected with mange. This strip was about five inches long and about an inch wise and I was treating him for this trouble. He wore a black harness with brass was engraved the word Jimmy, studs and a name plate on which Jimmy left home Friday evening and we expected all night to hear his welcome knock at the door, but no knock was heard. The same all day Saturday and that night and no Jimmy. No trace of him is found and so we are impressed with the idea that some one stole him. The thief stole something besides a little dog. He took some of our heart and some of the joy and happiness from our home. I am an invalid and am unable to hunt for him. He gave me much happiness with his cute ways, his talking to me, his beautiful brown eyes. He loved to lay on my lap and with his head resting on my breast look at me with those brown eyes and give me his affection. I want Jimmy back and I hope that Harris Milner or Frank Carr or some neighbor sheriff will watch and if found take him up for me. Any fellow who wills steal a pet dog like Jimmy will steal a child and he deserves the contempt of all dog lovers. We gave Jimmy a bath each week and he enjoyed the bath. We used Pulvex soap. Jimmy likes his bread with butter, his oatmeal with cream and sugar, and he don’t like to eat from tin dishes. He is a little gentleman dog and quite refined in his tastes. He is a house dog and never commits a nuisance. I hope the one who took him will recall that I am ill and that the taking of Jimmy has brought me sorrow. I want Jimmy back home. Bring him back. Just let him out at our gate. He’ll come home and knock for admission. If you refuse my plea, take good care of Jimmy. He is not strong. Give him food. He loves fudge, but give him very little. No trick to steal him for he loved to ride in an auto and all one had to do is to open the door and in hopped Jimmy ready to enjoy a ride. Please send Jimmy back to me. His loss is almost as if he were a child. I loved him and he was a comfort. I want my Jimmy. Please everyone watch for Jimmy and help me to his return. Remember how sick I am—how Jimmy gave me some happiness and please return my Jimmy. I want my Jimmy.

The Matagorda County Tribune, Thursday, June 24, 1937


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Dec. 5, 2009
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