The New Ulm Enterprise (New Ulm, Tex.), Vol. 11, No. 49, Ed. 1 Thursday, September 15, 1921 Page: 3 of 8
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NEW ULM ENTERPRISE, NEW ULM. TEXAS
DODSON WARNS
iwwwwirrw>o>wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwf.fWfyfyywf j
The Voice of the Pack d
CALOMEL USERS
I
<
By EDISON MARSHALL
THE BANANA PLANT.
ixaAxtaAai
£AafiaAaaAMULaA&a*eA£
WWWWWWWWWWW
con-
variations.—London Answers.
not
of
the hard
Its
oasted
“Peter Gnome Climbed.’’
Furs
I Did to Him.”
“1 Guess You Saw What
she had never seen it be-
I What to Take for
saw the
then take 2 or 3 for a few nights after.
RIDDLES.
moon-
Rather
to
of
of them is to pay you; the other
pay Cranston for the thing he
Maybe the chance wilf never
for the first of the two; only Til
that it will. Maybe It would be
I make oath that I
It, or receive it if you
It goes too deep, dear-
by that Stand-
Things in the
to the essen-
for—too
end, I’ll
a train hit you
the train hit the
largest ladies in
Miss Ouri and
into
into
other hand sought for his.
if you heard—paymfent must be
You see what I mean, Dan.
the two
States?
falls.”
lips and
!TTLE
iVER
know
Little
know
always
chance
always
didn’t
Butter Is prime when it Is fresh;
but man’s youthful freshness disap-
pears when he reaches his prime.
Uneasy lies tlie face that wears a
frown.
We Are Experts
Write for Prices
Sold
Stored
Remodeled
Notice this delicious
flavor when you
smoke Lucky Strike
— it’s sealed in by
the toasting process
war.
knew exactly what Snow-
do. Although of a higher
was a mountain creature,
She meant exactly
If he hadn’t climbed
think, Snowbird, that you’d
to ask me?” he demanded.
And
A Question of Identity.
New Minister—“Do you
am, my little man?”
Don’t you
We all
many
them-
Im porta nt to Mothers
Examine carefully every bottle
struggled for
“And I know
interested
one bunch
We’re full of
Ancient History.
Ancient history begins with the first
recorded history and extends to the
fall of the Roman empire, 476 Ji. D.,
Including all the historical events in-
cluded in the Bible. The prehistoric
period is the period about which noth-
ing is known, either from the Bible or
other sources. It has no limits, and
scientists, historians and archaeolo-
gists give varying opinions as to its
probable extent.
Has 14,000,000 Readers.
The British museum library has
more than 14,000,000 recorded readers
annually and is the largest reference
library in the world.
PARKER’S
HAIR BALSAM
Removes Don arufl-StopsHairFalllng
Restores Color and
Beauty to Gray and Faded Hail
60c. and $1.00 at Drupg^sts.
HLbcox Chem. Wks. Patchogne, N. Y.
plant at the last Our leaves spread
wide apart. Yes, it is quite a sight.
“Oui‘ wood is very soft.
help each other. I don’t suppose
know that the bananas protect
selves and help each other.
“Our sap helps us and
liver and straighten you up better and
quicker than nasty calomel and with-
out making you sick, you just go back
and get your money.
If you take calomel today you’ll be
sick and nauseated tomorrow; be-
sides, it may salivate you, while if
you take Dodson’s Liver Tone you will
wake up feeling great, full of ambi-
tion, and ready for work or play. It’s
harmless, pleasant and safe to give
to children; they like it Advertisement
kind of
Our keep-
that.
of me—If
speak
Simply Scandalous.
Hubby—Say, I just saw Mac and his
bride buzz by in their new roadster.
Wifie—What did she look like?
Hubby—Looks pretty fast. Has a
long, slim body, two blue streamers
flying from her hood, her muffler was
wide open, and she w’as smoking.
Wifie—My heavens; His bride?
Hubby—No. The roadster.
Stung.
Waiter—Thank you very much, sir.
Diner—What do you mean? I
haven’t given you anything.
Waiter—No, sir, but I bet a half
dollar that you wouldn’t tip me.
Diner—Oh, you did, eh ! Well here’s
a nickel. Now you’re out 45 cents,
and serves you right for your con-
founded impertinence.
The
who I
Billie—“Certainly,
who you are?”
How dbes a mule resemble
shine? In the kick.
Would you rather
or a truck?
truck.
Who are
the United
Mrs. Sippi.
Calomel salivates! It’s mercury.
Calomel acts like dynamite on a slug-
gish liver. When calomel comes
contact with sour bile it crashes
it, causing cramping and nausea.
If you feel bilious, headachy,
stlpated and all knocked out, just go
to your druggist and get a bottle of
Dodson’s Liver Tone for a few cents,
which is harmless vegetable substi-
tute for dangerous calomel. Take a
spoonful aad if it doesn’t start your
Three Colors Enough. /
Harold—Why doesn’t Great Britain
give more practical attention to dye-
stuffs?
Clarice—Perhaps we don’t feel the
practical need of them. With a good
permanent red, white, and blue there’s
no special occasion to worry about
finicky
Peter Gnome perched on a corner
of a Bamboo tree in the Botanical
Gardens of a great park.
“I’ve come to sit upon you but I
want to hear the Banana Plant’s
story if you don’t mind.”
“Not in the least,” said the Bam-
boo tree.
“And while you’re beautiful and
look like birds—you Bird of Paradise
flowers, I’ve not come to talk to you,”
he said as he spoke’ to these flowers.
“We would like to hear the Banana
Plant’s story, too. The one who cares
for all of us—he dearly loves the
Banana Plant,” the Bird of Paradise
flowers said.
“Then, Banana Plant, will you tell
me your story?” asked Peter Gnome.
“You know,” he added, “the Fairies
and the Gnomes and the Brownies
and the Elves and all of our relations
and friends are very fond of plants
and flowers and ferns and all such
things. We’re devoted to wild flowers
and garden flowers and hothouse
flowers and all kinds! And we love
to hear their stories, for every little
flower, every little plant, every big
flower, every big pl.nnt has a story.”
“I will tell you my story with pleas-
ure,” said the Banana Plant.
“In the first place of all it takes
almost two years, twenty-two months
to be exact, for me to get my full
growth, It takes me eleven months
to flower—and elevlen more to fruit.
“Of course we must all be correctly
fed, we must receive the
earth that will nourish us.
er is very particular about
“I call the pointed end
that is the way I should
myself—as my nose.
“Perhaps you will be
know that there is only
bananas from one of us.
sap and that helps us grow, of course.
You can easily understand that.”
“Easily,” agreed Peter Gnome as
he uncrossed his legs and crossed
them the other way.
“My fruit grows along with the tree
from the bottom until it reaches the
part up near the top where it finishes
its journey in twenty-two months to
full growth and perfection.
“My keeper says it is a very grand
sight to see the opening of the banana
You Cannot Gripe, Sicken, or Salivate Yourself if You
Take “Dodson’s Liver Tone” Instead
to be beaten to a pulp in two minutes,
you alone will have to make him an-
swer for it. I came to your aid—and
now^you must come to mine.”
Her fingers no longer clasped his.
Strength had come back to him, and
his fingers closed down until the blood
went out of hers, but she was wholly
unconscious of the pain. In reality,
she was conscious of nothing except
the growing flame in his face. It held
her eyes in passionate fascination. His
pupils were contracting to little bright
dots in the gray Irises. The jaw was
setting, as
fore.
“Do you
even have
“Don’t you think I understand?
it won’t be tn your defense—only my
own duty.”
“But he Is so strong—and you are
so weak—”
“I won’t be so weak forever. I nev-
er really cared much about living be-
fore. I’ll try now, and you’ll see—
oh, Snowbird, wait and trust me: I
understand everything. It’s my own
fight—when you kissed me, and he
cried, down that word in anger and
jealousy, it put the whole thing on me.
No one else can make him answer; no
one else has the right. It’s my honor,
no one else’s, that stands or
He lifted her hand to his
kissed it again and again.
And for the first time he
tears gathering in her dark eyes. “But
you fought here, didn’t you, Dan?”
she asked with painful slowness. “You
didn’t put up your arms—or try to
run away? I didn’t come till he had
you done, so I didn’t see.” She looked
at him as if her whole joy of life hung
on his answer.
“Fought! I would have fought till
I died! But that isn’t enough, Snow-
bird. It isn’t enough just to fight, In
a case like this. A man’s got to win!
I would have died if you hadn’t-come.
And that’s another debt that I have
to pay—only that debt I owe to you.”
She nodded slowly. The lives of
it.
means too much.”
their pact. Not until the
paid and her word made
Ladies Let Cuticura
Keep Your Skin
Fresh and Young
Soap 25c, Ointment 25 and 50c, Talcum 25c.
rVXW*WWWWWWWVWWWWW
gives
strength so that the fruit swells and
grows. Back of my leaves now little
bananas are growing faster all the
time. They will grow up and up and
up right through the plant until they
reach the top.
‘T will not fruit again, but I will
spread quickly. That is the way we
help each other.
“My keeper says every plant must
be treated according to its own needs
just as you would treat every person,
every child in a different way.
“He would like you, Peter Gnome,
because you want to know about, me.
and because you stop and look at the
plants. How grieved he is when peo-
ple walk through the houses quickly
and don’t bother to look at all at the
wonderful things that are about.
“He feels sorry for such people for
they miss so much, oh, so much in
life. They’re always rushing on to
the next thing and don’t realize that
they’re letting so much that is inter-
esting pass them by.
“There are many lovely green plants
here and pretty little arbors, and
when the different ferns and plants
get their drinks of water in the after-
noon it feels so like a nice warm rain.
“Ah yes, I myself will not fruit
again but I will help others of my
family, just as in the free state we
spread about as families.
“And Peter, perhaps you’d" like to
take a look at the baby bananas
which arenff yet ripe?”
So Peter Gnome climbed up very,
very lightly and easily, and there be-
ing looked after by the leaves were
the little bananas growing bigger
eitery day, and before long to ripen
into bananas ready to be eaten.
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Contractors* Supplies, Builders'
Hardware, Etc. Prices and In-
formation furnished on request
PEDEN IRON & STEEL CO.
HOUSTON SAN ANTONIO
WOODMEN EWORLD
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Copyright, IMO, by Little, Brown & Co.
the mountain men are not saved by
their women without incurring obliga-
tion. She attempted no barren de-
nials. She made no effort to pretend
he had not incurred a tremendous debt
when she had come with her pistol. It
was an unavoidable fact. A life for
a life is the code of the mountains.
“Two things I must do before I can
ever dare to die,” he told her soberly.
“One
Is to
said,
come
pray
kinder to you to pray that it wouldn’t;
yet I pray that it will! Maybe I can
pay that debt only by being
ready, always watching for a
to save you from any danger,
trying to protect you. You
come in time to see the fight I made.
Besides—I lost, and little else mat-
ters. And that debt to you can’t be
paid until sometime I fight again—for
you—and win.” He gasped from his
weakness, but went on bravely. “I’ll
never be able to feel at peace, Snow-
bird, until I’m tested in the fire before
your eyes! I want to show you the
things Cranston said of me are
true—that my courage will stand the
test.
“It wouldn’t be the same, perhaps,
with an Eastern girl. Other' things
matter in the valleys. But I see how
it is here; that there Is only one
standard for men and
ard they rise or fall,
mountains are down
tlals.”
He paused and
strength to continue,
what you said to him,” he went on.
“Half-unconscious as I was, I remem-
ber every word. Each word just seems
to burn into me, Snowbird, and I’ll
make every one of them good. You
said I am a better man than he, and
sometime It would be proved—and it’s
the truth! Maybe in a month, maybe
in a year. I’m not going to die from
this malady of mine now, Snowbird.
I’ve got too much to live
many debts to pay. In the
prove your words to him.”
His eyes grew earnest, and
fire went out of them. “It’s almost as
if you were a queen, a real queen of
some great kingdom,” he told her,
tremulous with a great awe that was
stealing over him, as a mist steals over
water. “And because I had kissed
your fingers,, for ever and ever I was
your subject, living only to fight your
fights—maybe with a dream in the
end to kiss your fingers again. When
you bent and kissed me on that hill-
side—for him to see—it was the same:
that I was sworn to you, and nothing
mattered in my life except the service
and love I could give you. And It’s
more than you ever dream, Snowbird.
It’s all yours, for your battles and
your happiness.”
The great pines were silent above
them, shadowed and dark. Perhaps
they were listening to an age-old
story, those vows of service and self-
gained worth by which the race has
struggled upward from the darkness.
“But I kissed you—once before,”
she reminded him. The voice was
just a whisper, hardly louder than the
stir of the leaves in the wind.
“But that kiss didn’t count,” he told
her. “It wasn’t at all the same. I
loved you then, I think, but it didn’t
mean what it did today.”
“And what—” she leaned toward
him, her eyes full on his, "does it
mean now?”
"All that’s worth while in life, all
that matters when everything is said
that can be said, and all is done that
can be done. And it means, please
God, when the debts are paid, that I
may have such a kiss again.”
“Not until then,” she told him,
whispering.
“Until then,
won’t even ask
should give
est—and it
This was
debts were
good would those lips be his again.
There was no need for further words.
Both of them knew.
In the skies, the gray clouds were
gathering swiftly, as always In the
mountains. The raindrops were fall-
ing one and one, over the forest. The
summer was done, and fall had come
in earnest.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
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ished. Their utter darkness startled
him.
He sat up straight, and her arm that
had been about his neck felt at her
side. He took her hand firmly in his,
and their eyes met.
“We must go home, Snowbird,” he
told her simply. “I’m not so badly
hurt but that I can make it.”
She nodded; but otherwise scarcely
seemed to hear. Her eyes still flowed
with darkness. And then, before his
own eyes, their dark pupils began to
contract. The hand he held filled and
throbbed with life, and the fingers
closed around his. She leaned toward
■him.
“Listen, Dan,” she said quickly.
“You heard—didn’t you—the last thing
that he said?”
“I couldn’t help but hear, Snow-
bird.”
Her
“Then
made.
Maybe you can’t see, knowing the girls
that live on the plains. You were the
cause of his saying it, and you must
answer—”
It seemer to Dan that some stem
code of the hills, unwritten except in
the hearts of their children, inexorable
as night, was speaking through her
lips. This was no personal thing. In
some dim, half-understood way, it
went back to the basic code of life.
“People must fight their own fights,
up here,” she told him. “The laws
of the courts that the plains people
can appeal to are all too far away.
There’s no one that can do it, except
you. Not my father. My father can’t
fight your battles here, If your honor
is going to stand. It’s up to you, Dan.
You can’t pretend that you didn’t hear
him. Such as you are, weak and sick
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HAPTER III—Continued.
—11—
extremely doubtful if a plains-
would have possessed this knowl-
edge. But a plainsman has not the
knowledge of life itself that the moun-
taineer has, simply because he does
not see it in the raw. And he has not
half the intimate knowledge of death,
an absolute requisite of self-com-
posure. The mountaineer knows life
in its simple phases with little tradi-
tion or convention to blur the vision.
• Death is a very intimate acquaintance
that may be met in any snowdrift, on
any rocky trail; and these conditions
are very deadly to any delusions that
he has in regard to himself. He ac-
quires an ability to see just where he
stands, and of course that means self-
possession. This quality had something
to do with the remarkable record that
the mountain men, such as that mag-
nificent warrior from Tennessee, made
in the late
Cranston
bird would
order, she
even as himself,
what she said,
from Dan’s prone body, she would
have shot quickly and very straight. If
he tried to attack either of them now,
her finger would press back before he
could blink an eye, and she wouldn’t
weep any hysterical tears over his
dead body. If he kept his distance,
she wouldn’t shoot at all. He meant
to keep his distance. But he did know
that he could insult her without dan-
ger to himself. And by now his lips
had acquired their old curl of scorn.
“I’ll go, Snowbird,” he said. “1’11
leave you with your sissy. But I guess
you saw what I did to him—in two
minutes."
“I saw. But you must remember
he’s sick. Now go.”
“if he’s sick, let him stay in bed—
and have a wet nurse. Maybe you can
be jchat.”
The lids drooped halfway over her
. gra|y eyes, and the slim finger curled
■^/re tightly about the trigger. “Oh,
Mush I could shoot you, Bert!” she
Ml. She didn’t whisper it, or hiss it,
Miurl it, or do any of the things most
■pie are supposed to do in moments
■violent emotion. She simply said
Eg and her meaning was all the
^Barer.
■‘But you can’t. And I’ll pound that
Mk-sop of yours to a jelly every time
Mee him. I’d think, Snowbird, that
M’d want a man.”
Mie started up the trail; and then
M did a strange thing. “He’s more of
Mnan than you are, right now, Bert,”
H? told him. “He’ll prove it some
Mr.” Then her arm went about Dan’s
M?k and lifted his head upon her
Mast; and in Cranston’s plain sight,
Me bent and kissed him, softly, on
M? lips.
■Cranston’s answer was an oath. It
Mpped from his lips, more poisonous,
Hn-e malicious than the venom of a
Make. His features seemed to tight-
■. the dark lips drew away from his
Meth. No words could have made
Mm such an effective answer as this
■tie action of hers. And as he turned
■ the trail, he called down to her
■ name—that most dreadful epithet
Hit foul tongues have always used
■ women held in greatest scorn.
■Dan struggled in her arms. The
Mss on his lips, the instant before,
Md not called him out of his half-
Hnsciousness. It had scarcely seemed
Mai, rather just an incident in a bliss-
M1 dream. But the word called down
He trad shot out clear and vivid from
Me silence, just as a physician’s face
Mill often leap from the darkness af-
Mr the anesthesia. Something infinite-
I warm and tender was holding him,
■’easing him back against a holy place
Hat throbbed and gave him life and
■rength; but he knew that this word
Mid to be answered. And only actions,
Hit other words, could be its payment.
Mil the voices of his body called to
Him to lie still, but the voices of the
Hpirit, those higher, nobler promptings
Mrom which no man, to the glory of
■he breed from which he sprung, can
■aver quite escape, were stronger yet.
■le tugged upward, straining. But he
Hlldn’t even have the strength to break
■the hold that the soft arm had about
■his neck.
H “Oh, if I could only pull the trig-
ger!” she was crying. "If I could
■mly kill him—”
H “Let me,”/ he pleaded. “Give me
■he pistol. I’ll kill him—”
| And he would. There was no flinch-
Hbig in the gray eyes that looked up
■ her. She leaned forward, as if to
Miit the weapon in his hands, but at
JFnce drew it back. And then a single
sob caught at her throat. An instant
later they heard Cranston’s laughter
as be vanished around the turn of the
trail.
For long minutes the two of them
were still. The girl still held the man’s
head upon her breast. The pistol had
fallen in the pine needles, and her
nervous hand plucked strangely at the
leaves of a mountain flower. To Dan’s
^^- eyes, there was something trancelike,
■ a hint of paralysis and insensibility
■ about her posture. He had never seen
her eyes like this. The light that he
■ had always beheld in them had van-
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LUCKY
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The New Ulm Enterprise (New Ulm, Tex.), Vol. 11, No. 49, Ed. 1 Thursday, September 15, 1921, newspaper, September 15, 1921; New Ulm, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1194425/m1/3/: accessed July 7, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Nesbitt Memorial Library.