The Meridian Tribune. (Meridian, Tex.), Vol. 14, No. 10, Ed. 1 Friday, August 7, 1908 Page: 3 of 8
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Farmers Educational
—AND-
Co - Operative Union
Of America
The Rosy Road.
I.
I take the rosy roadway to Halleluia
Town:
There is where the sunlight’s in the
rain a-comin’ down;
The summer is a song
An’ the winter’s not for long—
Rosy is the bright road to Halleluia
Town!
II.
You pack up all your troubles in Halle-
luia Town,
An’ fling ’em to the Four Winds as
they fly the world around;
From the windows in the blue
Angels wave their hands to you,
For Heaven is not a heart-beat from
Halleluia Town!
I1[I-
Life’s losses an’ its crosses—they
make your brightest crown
Where the bells ring sweetest welcome
to Hallelulia Town;
No thorn to wound the breast:
It’s there the travelers rest
In the lilies of the love of God and
Halleluia Town!
—F. L. Stanton in Atlanta Constitu-
tion.
Make the Most of Picknics.
The long summer days are again
here and the season suggests picnics.
There is no more pleasant way of
spending an afternoon than at a pic-
nic. This affords an easy and agree-
able way of being sociable. With par-
ties or sociables the work of enter-
taining falls upon one or two, while
in the picnic each person contributes
to the dinner and each person is re-
sponsible for his or her entertain-
ment.
Anything in the way of refreshments
may be taken to the picnic but some
things are more appropriate than oth-
ers. Cold tea, salad dressings, olives,
pickles, etc., are nearly always includ-
ed in picnic lunches because they can
be carried in sealed cans. Deviled
eggs, canned meats, etc., also form a
part of the usual picnic lunch. We
think of the things that are easily
carried and that can be served with
the fewest dishes.I
Informality is the keynote to the
pleasure derived from a picnic. Peo-
ple are always ready for a good time
and go to picnics for that purpose.
Anyone who feels that his food must
be served in order and who does not
feel able to, come down to usual pic-
nic style, had better absent himself
from same as he will not enjoy himself
or add any merriment to the party.
Picnic style has its own attraction
and to rob it of its individuality would
be to spoil it entirely. We should en-
courage picnics; it is good for people
to meet in this informal way and to
cat out in the open air. Many seem to
think that one must necessarily go for
some distance—to a lake or to a park,
or some resort. It is always pleasant
when this can be done but it is not
necessary; there are always many
pretty places near at hand. It is un-
necessary for anyone to do a lot of
extra work for a picnic; plain, whole-
some things that will satisfy good
"healthy appetites are all that are need-
ed. Make the most of picnics, enjoy
the summer months, enjoy your
friends and get together. That is
what makes life worth living.
Care of Celts.
You’ve been too busy this summer
to pay much attention to the colts.
Then make up for lost time now.
Teach the colt to lead and drive. Do
it wisely and patiently. It’s easy to
-make him jerk up the head every
time you raise your hand or speak
cross. A jerking colt has a jerking
trainer.
Handle the feet. Pick them up and
tap them. Get him so he can be shod
without fear. See that the feet are
properly trimmed to promote and di-
rect proper growth of hoof. Don’t let
iany fool hoof butcher do it, either.
Make the colts fearless by showing
them strange sights.
1 It wouldn’t be a bad investment if
several farmers would get their colts
jtogether and introduce them to an au-
tomobile. Do it gradually at first,
(Hire the automobilist so you can have
him do as you want him to. Colts
must be taught that the auto, the
-street cars, trains, threshing engines
and all such scary things will not hurt
them. A fearless colt is worth more
to any owner, city or country, than
one that has to be turned around and
flee When such a thing approaches.
But in teaching the colts to be fear-
less don’t use brute force. Use good
sense, patience, kindness.
Sometimes it seems like a good deal
of trouble to dip hogs or even to spray
them. I’ll tell you a simple plan that
I have found to work splendidly. When
the pigs are all eating at the trough,
take your diluted coal tar dip in a
sprinkling can and run over them. In
warm weather they soon get accus-
tomed to it and rather like it, and it is
scarcely any trouble at all to do it
two or three times a week. It will
contribute to their health wonderfully
by keeping their skin in ideal condi-
tion.
Turkeys.
I wonder how the farmers’ wives are
gotting along with their turkey rais-
ing this summer. I say wives because
I am afraid if those who eat Thanks-
giving and Xmas turkey dinners
would use something else if the men
on the farm had to raise the turks.
By the way, turkey culture is quite
interesting when one. begins to get
down to the bottom of it. When we
go back to the beginning of our re-
public and read how the early settlers
feasted on the ever abundant wild
turkey, it is no wonder we eat turkey.
Our present turkey is the wild bird
domesticated, and I am afraid their
health has been injured, some by too
much inbreeding. I think that herein
will be found the cause for most of
the prevalent loss that so many ex-
perience. There is a common prac-
tice in all localities for farmers to ex-
change birds with their neighbors,
year in and year out, and in a short
time the whole community is inbred.
I suppose this is an oversight, as it
may be, because some breeder who
has an extra good Tom, and thinks
$5 to $10 is about the right price
for him. Would it not be better to pay
$10 for a great big, stout, vigorous
Tom and raise a good flock of poults
that will live and grow into fine spe-
cimens and weigh from five to ten
pounds more than they usually do,
than to keep trading and carrying out
the weak and dying poults? Of course,
these conditions do not exist in all lo-
calities, but they do in many. Mr. Ro-
bert Lee Blanton of Richmond, Va.,
in a very instructive article, states
that in his opinion inbreeding is the
, worst enemy to strong and healthy
stock. Mr. Blanton lives in a country
where the wild bird abounds, and has
made a careful study of them in their
wild state, and has captured wild
birds and is breeding them, and in
an illustration shows a wild Tom that
weighs 38 pounds. Mr. Blanton states
positively that he does not inbreed
but secures new blood each year, and
has comparatively little loss. I believe
that most young turkeys are like many
incubators—they are fooled with too
much. I think that if one will follow
nature in this matter, the results will
be better. How well I remember how
I used to hunt the hedge fences back
in Iowa to find hidden nests that Miss
Turk had stole away. We used to rob
the hens of their first lot of eggs and
set them under common hens, and us-
ually done very well, but when we let
the turkey hen set on her eggs just
where she chose to she always beat
us a block—relieved us of a lot of
trouble and fussing with the young,
tender turkeys. There was no feed
bill, either, for the mother turk would
never bring her brood home until they
were large enough to fly into the trees,
all strong, healthy birds. If I were
raising turkeys I would let the turkey
hen to do the job.
Agricultural Colleges.
When the great agricultural, manu-
facturing and housekeeping masses get
together in earnest, and with an in-
telligent purpose to improve their con-
dition, they will receive the hearty co-
operation and assistance of the learn-
ed professions, because- what is good
for one is good for all.
“Agricultural colleges are a rather
recent innovation. Fifty years ago the
first one in this country was establish-
ed at Lansing, Michigan, and one week
ago its semi-centennial was celebrat-
ed in that city, and was considered an
event worthy of the presence of Presi-
dent Roosevelt, who made an address
which should be read and studied by
all. A friend of mine recently said,
‘Of all the money the State spends,
there is none which begins to yield the
returns of that spent on its agricul-
tural college.’
“It is impossible to estimate the
work that has been done by colleges
—the light that has been shed by
them on the important matters in
charge. We only know that it has
been great as it has been it is but
little more than a drop in the bucket
to what is needed.”—From address by
Mr. Wm. Londen of Iowa.
Horse Sense Reminders.
Don’t leave me hitched in my stall
at night with a big cob right where I
must lie down. I am tired and can’t
select a smooth place.
Don’t compel me to eat more salt
than I want by mixing it with my oats.
I know better than any other animal
how much I need.
Don’t think because I go free un-
der the whip I don’t get tired. You
would move, too, if under the whip.
Don’t think because I am a horse
that weeds and briars won’t hurt my
hay.
Don’t whip me when I get frightened
along the road, or I will expect it next
time and maybe make trouble.
Don’t trot me uphill, for I have to system. Nuts are excellent as a sub-
carry you and the buggy and myself, stitute for meat, but should be eaten
too. Try it yourself sometime. Run
uphill with a big load.
“I takes de weather des ez Provi-
dence sends it,” said Brother Wil-
liams; “ef I whirled in en prayed fer
rain dar’d come a dry speel. En if I
prayed for dry, dar’d come rain
enough ter drown me—en de Lawd
knows I can’t swim!”
If in milking a part of the cow’s
milk is bloody or stringy, the whole
mess should go to the hogs. The meant to flavor, and is not served with
the cabbage. Add a very little water
farmer who will knowingly supply the
creamery with cream from unhealthy
milk should be prosecuted.
UNCLE EPH ON INVENTIONS.
4
TEVE got the horseless
f carriage and the wire-
I less telegraph,
/ Though at first we rid-
iculed, and called
them bosh.
7 But now, what do you
think, 'they’ve got a
fireless cooking stove
And they say the
darned thing really
works, b’gosh!
I It certainly beats all' the
way the women folks
can do;
They can shop, go to a
party or the club.
And gad about all after-
noon serenely as you
please,
And never give a thought
about the grub.
You see, these fireless cookin’ stoves, are
mighty handy things.
They look right simple, but they do
some curious stunts;
My wife can put her dinner in most any
time o’ day,
And Cook beans, meat, potatoes—all at
once.
The queer contraption’s made of wood,
and looks just like a box,
They’re filled inside with—I can’t tell
you what;
But all I know, you bring the food up
to the boiling point,
And those new-fangled things just keep
it hot.
They say they save much worry, time,
and labor—fuel, too.
But where we’ll stop, I don’t quite un-
derstand;
First thing the women know, they’ll in-
vent a new machine,
That will make a cradle rock without
a hand!
An Essay on Scraps.
As the school compositions say:
“There are very many different kinds
of scraps.” And it takes a clever
housewife to make good use of them
all—without the cry of “cold storage.”
In this day of a craze for salads,
every bit of every vegetable left from
one meal may be put in a salad for the
next. One dish of peas, another of
string beans, perhaps a few stalks of
asparagus, with lettuce leaves and a
dash of dressing. , Or, maybe, it is
fruit which threatens to spoil. Slice
hem all together, no matter how little
of each, and with the same “trimmings”
you have a salad. An apple, a banana,
one or two slices of pineapple—noth-
ing need be wasted, and on a pinch
the inside leaves of cabbage do in-
stead of lettuce.
And meats, fish, save them all and
make tiny individual pies or cro-
quettes. If there is not enough of one
kind, two or three different kinds are
better. Put a little meat in the omelet
—some in the center of the macaroni
—minced, of course. Indeed, how-
ever extravagant the age may be in
some things, it is no longer considered
stingy or close to save scraps. It is
bad form, as well as willful waste, to
throw out anything.
A WISE MAIDEN.
DON’T succeed
fancy dishes,”
fair maiden said;
“I’m much afraid
with
one
my
forte is just the ma-
king plain, white
bread.”
I clasped her hand—she
turned away; looked
quite inconsequential.
And said: “Good flour,
of course, I need, and
good yeast is essen-
tial.
“With water, I use but-
ter, too (of both one
can’t be chary),
But when I use sweet
milk I find no butter
necessary.
"The oven should not be too hot; the
heat should be quite steady;
If, in five minutes, some flour will brown,
the oven will be ready.
“With these few hints, most any one can
make bread, if she wishes.
But 1 have never had much luck with
making fancy dishes.”
Now, I like good,, plain bread—the rest
don't suit my poor digestion,
to this sweet, old-fashioned girl, I
So
straightway popped the question.
Poor Man’s Jelly Roll.
This recipe reads queerly, but it is
well worth trying.
Take three eggs, beat light. Add
one-half cup sugar (brown) five tea-
spoons flour, and one of baking pow-
der. This makes a wet batter. Cook
in a shallow pan, spread any kind of
jelly over the cake (when cooked) and
roll together. Thinly sliced bananas
or oranges may be used in place of
jelly for a change.
Substitute for Meat.
Cream and butter should be eaten
freely of by those who do not eat
much meat They furnish fats to the
at mealtime, and are more digestible
with salt.
Heidelberg Cabbage.
Select two small, solid heads of
hard cabbage—preferably red. Cut in
narrow strips or shreds. In a frying
pan put some nice bacon grease or
butter and lard, mixed. When fat is
hot, put the cabbage in with a tea-
spoon salt, plenty of pepper, two ta-
blespoons vinegar, and an onion with
two or three cloves stuck in the mid-
dle.
Do not cut up the onion.. It is
—barely enough to keep from scorch-
ing, and cook about an hour. This
is a recipe direct from the Fatherland.
KOiID
ABINET
■ N
A NEW-FANGLED STOVE.
7HE horseless carriage,
and all sich,
We ridiculed — called
bosh;
But now they’ve made a
cookin’ stove
Without a fire, b’gosh!
The women folks have
got a cinch;
They go to cards or
club,.
And gad about all after-
noon,
Without a thought of
grub.
You see, those
cookin’ stoves
Can do some
fireless
handy
stunts;
My wife puts dinner in
at noon
And cooks it all at once.
The queer contraption’s made of wood
Filled with-1 don’t know what;
But get the food to boiling point,
And the darned things keep it hot.
They’re nice, I know, but where we’ll
stop
I don’t quite understand.
Some day they’ll make a cradle which
Will rock without a hand!
Bread Pudding Without Milk.
It is not an especial mark of econ-
omy to save the stale bread and then
use an extra amount of eggs, butter
and sugar to make it palatable. The
success lies in using the bread cheap-
-else we might as well get another
ly-
kind of dessert.
Try this plan: Pour
boiling water on a half pint of bro-
ken bread. When soft, mix in any kind
of fruit (stewed or fresh) and add a
little butter and the yolk of one egg.
Spice and sugar to taste; bake 20 min-
utes. Make a sauce of the beaten
white of the egg, flavored and sweet-
ened.
Just Six Biscuits.
It is not an easy matter to gauge the
baking right so that there will be none
wasted. By following this recipe ex-
actly just six biscuits will be the re-
sult: Sift together one cup of sifted
flour, one teaspoon baking powder, a
pinch of salt and half a teaspoon su-
gar. Add a fourth cup cream and half
a beaten egg. Handle lightly, pat out
quickly and bake in a very hot oven.
HOMELY GOSSIP.
Cheap canned corn is improved by
the addition of a little sugar.
Soup is an economical and whole-
some addition to the dinner. Save all
the bones, boil them up for stock,
then add the odds and ends of vege-
tables left over from dinner. If noth-
ing else, put in a dash of catsup—and
you have nice tomato soup.
A clam shell in the inside of the kettle
will prevent the formation of lime.
Scaling fish is easier if first dipped
in boiling water.
Brown meat in the oven before put-
ing in the water.
THE LUNCH BOX.
CANNOT quite make up
my mind,
I’m much too poor to
marry.
Yet since that trip last
Saturday,
I’m dead in love with
Carrie.
I’d only carfare in my
jeans,
No money for a treat,
When Carrie, fairy-like,
produced
A box of things to eat.
P First she brought ou.
3 some sandwiches.
Of rye bread, sliced
" quite thin,
• And cheese, all inter-
mixed with egg,
And mustard added in.
I don’t like sponge cake, as a rule,
But try it Carrie’s way,
(In layers, with some marmalade),
You’ll want it every day.
And so I think I’ll take the chance,
However foolish this is,
And ask that girl to live with me
On bread and cheese—and kisses.
Currants.
Eat plenty of currants; few people
realize their food value. Cooked oi
raw, they furnish a very large per
cent, of saccharine in its best form—
grape sugar. The fruit contains also
a quantity of tartaric acid and potash
in the form of cream of tartar which is
of dietetic value. Currants should be
used in the puddings which we give
the children, in pies, or as an after-
dinner sweet they are excellent.
A Pretty Salad.
Nowadays it would seem that the
hostess catered more to the sight than
taste, and a salad that looks well is in
great demand. An attractive mode of
serving is to hollow the side of a dill
pickle and fill with any desired salad.
Cut off only a small piece from one
side, and scoop out the seeds and some
of the pulp. This pulp may be used
later to fill them, adding celery or
ripe tomatoes. Take care to select
extra large pickles.
Supper for Four Cents.
The following bill of fare was served
to a big number of students recently,
and actually cost less than four cents
per capita: Hot tea biscuit, French
fried potatoes, steamed rice, baked ap-
ples with sugar and milk, stewed
peaches, gingerbread and tea.
Ever Notice It?
The woman who is ambitious to be-
come a society leader begins by lead-
ing her husband around by the nose.-
Chicago News.
The Rexforth
Circulating
Library
By Don Mark Lemon
(Copyright, by Shortstory Pub. Co.)
He handed the beggar a half-dollar,
for the pathetic old fellow had made
a moving appeal, and was about to re-
turn to his pocket the other coins in
his hand, when one of them slipped
through his fingers and started to roll
down the sidewalk.
He saw that it was his pocket-piece,
a louis d’or with the image of the
Grande Monarque, and made a hasty
dash for the coin. It escaped him and
shot away at accelerating speed down
the sidewalk and just inside the flag-
stone. He lengthened his stride and
made another dash for the coin. Some
small silver spilled from his hand, but
he let it go and followed the elusive
Louis XIV. Suddenly the gold-piece
struck a ridge in its downward path
and shot around the corner of a public
courtway. Baxter followed.
He heard a laugh at his amusing
predicament, but did not look up, as
his blood was aroused, and he was
bound that the coin should not escape
down some hole or cranny.
At about three-fourths its length,
the courtway lifted a bit, retarding the
speed of the coin, which finally
swerved in its track and rocked along
the flagstone, to reel at last like a
very drunken. Louis into a doorway,
where it lay in the corner, half-propped
against the footboard.
Baxter stooped and picked up the
coin, and as he arose to a standing
posture, a small, neat brass sign met
his eye. It was set into the door be-
fore which the coin had come to a
standstill, and it read:
THE REXFORTH CIRCULATING
LIBRARY.
The courtway or narrow street down
which the golden louis had led him
was wholly new to Baxter, and as he
looked about he saw a couple of ladies
across the way smiling at his late pre-
dicament.
He would step into Rexforth’s and
recover his serenity. He opened the
in i'- "
LIBRA".
“Huckleberry Finn!” He Ejaculated.
door and found himself in a large, well
lighted room, fitted up more like a
ladies’ parlor than a library. Where
were the books? He could not see any,
and the patrons—all ladies, it would
seem—that came and went while he
gazed around nonplused did not bring
nor take away any object that could
have been mistaken for a book.
“This is something new,” comment-
ed Baxter, mentally: “Must be a book-
less library.”
Fancies of a new idea in libraries
floated through his brain. Perhaps the
books at Rexforth’s were not printed
volumes, but phonographic records,
and all the patron needed to do was
to draw a wax cylinder of the latest
popular novel—the record made by the
author himself—take it home and
place it on a phonograph, and science,
the mother of convenience, would do
the rest.
But all this was hypothetical, so he
looked about. On the wall near him
was a neat typewritten list, headed:
“The Six Books Most in Demand by
the Patrons of the Rexforth Circulat-
Library, for the Month of September.”
His eye ran down the list.
“Third-rail alive!” he murmured,
“what kind of ladies patronize this li-
brary?”
For the list read:
Izaak Walton’s Compleat Angler.
Shakespeare’s King Henry The
Fifth.
Last of the Mohicans..
Meditations of Aurelius.
Samuel Johnson’s Dictionary.
Huckleberry Finn.
He shut his eyes and tried to puz-
zle it out, but the more he thought the
deeper was his confusion. He studied
the ladies waiting to give their orders
for books. They all were stylishly
dressed, and seemed cultured and well-
read. His eye returned to the type-
written list on the wall.
“They’re classics, all right,” he
granted, “But such classics!”
He got up and went over to the sec-
retary’s desk. He would join the li-
brary and learn something. He was
handed a leaflet which informed him
that the monthly dues were ten dol-
lars, the members having the privi-
lege of drawing’each month two books
in class one, three in class two, four
in class three, and so on! a fine of two
dollars a day being imposed for a book
kept overtime.
Baxter whistled mentally. “The
books must be bound in vellum and
gold-tooled! ”
He laid ten dollars on the secre-
tary’s desk, and after a little telephon-
ing, by means of which his references
were authenticated and approved, he
was entered in the books as a member
of The Rexforth Circulating Library,
and credited with one month’s paid-
up dues.
He did not remove the sealed wrap-
per from the catalogue that the secre-
tary gave him, but upon being assured
by the young lady presiding over the
order desk that a copy of Huckleberry
Finn was on the library shelves, he
had her make out a slip for that
classic.
He thought to get his Huckleberry
and take it with him—he was in a
hurry to have a look at the binding
of the volume—but the young lady
calmly informed him that the book
would be sent around to his address
that afternoon by the first delivery.
If he would turn to rule seven in the
catalogue, he would learn that such
was the delivery regime of the library.
“Very well,” he said, and left the
building. By following downwards for
a short distance the narrow but well-
paved courtway, then turning to the
right along a similar courtway, thence
to the left and again to the right, he
emerged upon a busy, familiar street,
where a number of carriages were
waiting, no doubt for patrons of the
Rexforth Circulating Library.
That afternoon a parcel bearing the
stamp Rexforth was delivered at Bax-
ter’s club room. It was of mammoth
dimensions for a book, and he began
to fear that the librarian had blun-
dered and sent him, instead of a mod-
est octavo by Mark Twain, a folio
Shakespeare, if not the ponderous
Johnson’s dictionary itself. So he
nervously undid the wrapping, and
there lay before him in a neat paper
box a lady’s handsome skirt, with
some manner of fluffy pink trimmings
or flounces, he didn’t know which.
He poked gingerly at the dainty gar-
ment. “Huckleberry Finn!” he ejacu-
lated. Then a great, big truth leaped
up in Baxter’s mind, like the grimac-
ing face of a jack-in-the-box, and hasti-
ly removing the manila cover and
opening the catalogue he had received
at the library, he turned to H. Brack-
eted with the title of Huckleberry
Finn was the description of a lady’s
fancy ball skirt.
His eye ran over some other book
titles, with the things in ladies’ dress-
wear bracketed against them. Then
he sat down weakly. The Rexforth
Circulating library was a woman’s
dress-renting establishment, where la-
dies, by paying a certain monthly sum,
could “draw” stylish dresses for tem-
porary wear.
Each dress, skirt, waist, or hat, bore
the name of some well-known book—a
kind of code arrangement for privacy,
brevity and convenience—and upon ex-
amining his library card Baxter found
Mrs. prefixed to his name, the secre-
tary, no doubt, having been under the
impression that he had acted for his
wife in joining the R. C. L., for that
establishment made its appeal exclu-
sively to the gentler sex.
NEW PAINT DRYS WET ROOMS.
Engineers Believe Old Roman Secret
Has Been Discovered.
A discovery which promises to revo-
lutionize the building and decorating
trades and to be of vast importance to
the shipping industry has been made
by Inspector Simpson of the Black-
burn (England) fire brigade. It is a
liquid, and the principle of which,
after tests extending over many
months, has been pronounced by lead-
ing engineers to be an old Roman
secret, which has been lost to the
world for 700 years. . When painted
with this liquid the dampest room be-
comes absolutely dry, and freshly plas-
tered walls, after treatment by it, may
be at once papered without damage to
the paper.
No ironwork painted with it can
rust, and it completely prevents that
“weeping” of the inner skins of iron
ships, which causes so much damage
to cargo. When applied to the bottom
plates of ships it not only prevents ox-
idation, but allows no marine growth,
barnacles or other parasites to attach
themselves. It consequently preserves
a glasslike surface, which the dis-
coverer asserts will add several knots
to the speed of Atlantic liners and
warships.
His Uncertain Birthplace.
Senator Gore of Oklahoma, in illus-
tration of one of his points in his
speech in Faneuil hall, told a story of
the James family of Jamestown, Va.,
who since the foundation of that his-
toric city have been accustomed to
have all births and deaths in the
James family recorded in the city reg-
ister.
A few years ago Thomas James got
married, and, after a honeymoon of
18 months abroad, returned home with
little Jimmie James as one of the most
valuable acquisitions of their foreign
trip.
As was the long standing custom of
the family, the proud parents wanted
Jimmie’s birth recorded in the city
registry, but the city clerk politely in-
formed them that it would be impos-
sible to oblige them, since the child
was born not only out of the city but
in another land.
After much exhortation and influ-
ence brought to bear, the official, how-
ever, promised to do the best he could,
and wrote the following in the regis-
try: “Jimmie James, born February
28, 1905, during the temporary ab-
sence of his parents.”—Philadelphia
Record.
Cleveland’s chief thinks policemen
should not be burlesqued on the stage.
Really, chief, a cop is harder to bur-
lesque than you think.
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Dunlap, Levi A. The Meridian Tribune. (Meridian, Tex.), Vol. 14, No. 10, Ed. 1 Friday, August 7, 1908, newspaper, August 7, 1908; Meridian, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1629751/m1/3/: accessed July 7, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Meridian Public Library.