Palacios Beacon (Palacios, Tex.), Vol. 32, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, June 15, 1939 Page: 3 of 8
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PAL AGIOS BEACON, PALACIOS, TEXAS
y
(
lA
L /
j,\
A
THREE SHUnERED HOUSES
By BEN AMES WILLIAMS
Copyright—WNU SERVICe
— ^Waking of Sports —
Check Yanks?
League
Hold
Must
Players
SYNOPSIS
Driving home through a torrential
rain, young, well-to-do Clint Jervies
picks up a girl, scantily clad, running
In terror-stricken flight down the road.
She rides a short ways, leaves the car
and runs into the woods. He decides to
talk to his dear friends, Inspector Tope
and Miss Moss, about his adventure
Clint still thinks of her as Miss Moss,
his former guardian, though she and the
Inspector are married. Clint, having
settled down, now manages the Jervies
estate himself. In three shuttered
houses, all gloomy and forbidding, on
Kenesaw Hill, near where Clint lacked
up the frightened girl, lived three fami-
lies. In one house lived old Denman
Hurder, his wife, who had been Ella
Kenesaw, and his daughter, Kitty Lea-
ford, and her daughter June. Living in a
second house was Aunt Evie Taine, Un-
cle Justus and brothers Rab and Asa.
The third held old Matthew Bowdon and
his wife. Living on the estate was a
man known only to June as "Uncle
Jim." Following (heir usual custom the
three families gathered in the Hurder
homo Saturday night. Kitty, June's
mother, retired early with a headache.
CHAPTER II—Continued
—3—
Rab set the pan of milk on the
ibedside table. He said: "I've been
telling June she ought to get out of
this mausoleum once in a while.
Kitty, why don't you let me show
her around? Why don't we three go
on a party some night? I'll get
theater-tickets, and we'll have din-
ner in town."
Kitty said without turning her
head: "Good night, Rab. I'm dead
tired. June's all right. I'll take
care of her."
"Think it over," Rab urged. "Ev-
eryone here is old, except June and
me and you. And maybe Asa. And
we're all old compared with June."
Kitty swung around. "Don't wor-
ry, Rab," she said, a slow passion
in her tones. "I'm going to get
June out of this. She sha'n't live
as I've lived. Good night."
Rab made an amused grimace at
June and went away.
June came behind her mother's
chair. "Let me brush it," she of-
fered softly. "Is your head bad?"
"I've got to sleep tonight," Kitty
Leaford whispered. "Or go mad!
This is one of my bad days. Warm
the milk for me."
June took the milk into the bath-
room, lighted the gas on the small
burner there and stirred the milk so
that it should not burn. By the time
it was lukewarm, Kitty Leaford was
in bed. June poured the milk into a
glass, and brought it to her mother's
bedside. The glass was not quite
lull.
"I can feel thunder in the air,"
said Kitty Leaford, and shuddered.
She had prepared for the night, as
she always did, with an elaborate
care. June knew the ritual: mas-
sage — unguents — waving-irons in
her hair—gloves saturated with an
emollient to keep soft her hands.
Kitty Leaford still served a beauty
that had vanished long ago.
"I'll come in to you if it storms,"
June promised.
"Bring me a tablet," the older
■woman directed.
June hesitated. "Won't you be
able to sleep without, Mother? With
just the milk?" she pleaded.
Kitty said petulantly: "Don't ar-
gue with me tonight, June. I'm not
fit to bear it. They're in the bath-
room cabinet!"
June went back into the bath-
room. She rinsed the pan under
the faucet, delaying, trying to find
some argument. She noticed that
the milky water was slow to drain
out of the basin. The trap must
have become plugged.
Her mother called: "Hurry,
June!"
The girl opened the cabinet and
took out a familiar bottle. The bot-
tle had no label. She removed the
cork and let one tablet roll into her
palm. She set the bottle down on
the edge of the basin and was about
to replace the cork when Kitty Lea-
lord called:
"June, I'll take two tonight. I
•want to go to sleep quickly, sleep
sound."
June made an unhappy gesture,
and her hand touched the uiicorked
bottle. It fell into the basin, spill-
ing tablets. She rescued it hastily.
There was still a little water in the
basin, and the spilled tablets were
already half-dissolved. There were
only three remaining in the bottle.
June stood in some consternation,
and her mother called:
"What was that? June, did you
spill them?"
"I tipped over the bottle," June
confessed. "I spilled one or two."
"For heaven's sake, be careful,"
Kitty Leaford cried fretfully. "Doc-
tor Cabler always cross-examines
me when they go faster than he
thinks they should. Bring me two."
June took one more tablet out of
the bottle, so that she had two in
her hand, while two remained. She
put the bottle in its place and went
back into the other room. She said:
"Mother, I wish you wouldn't take
them both. You remember what
happened that other time?"
"I took three that time," her
mother retorted. "Two won't hurt
me."
"You were awfully sick!"
"I must get to sleep," Kitty Lea
lord insisted. She picked up the tab-
lets from her daughter's palm and
dropped them in the warm milk.
She waited a moment to give them
time to dissolve. "These are harm-
less, June," she urged. "Practi-
cally! And they do make me sleep."
She laughed feverishly. "Twice
this many wouldn't really hurt me,
June." Her eyes were haggard.
"And I can't help it. If I don't
sleep, I go mad."
She drained the draft. "That dues
taste strong," she said with a faint
grimace. "Now run, baby. Kiss
me, and go. I'll be asleep in a
minute."
June kissed her, made her lie
down, covered her over. She opened
one window a crack. Kitty Lea-
ford was not a fresh-air addict. June
looked at her and saw that she was
already half asleep. The girl
turned oil the light and slipped
away.
At the head of the stairs she
paused long enough to be sure the
others were leaving. She heard
someone slide the bolt on the front
door, heard Uncle Justus say:
"I've fastened it, Denman."
Then murmuring voices toward
the kitchen. They all went out that
way; and after a moment Grandpa
and Grandma Hurder returned to
go into their own room, on the
Then thb electric Ufcht faded
and died.
ground floor, in the east wing. Her
mother's room and her own were in
the west wing, over the big sitting-
room.
A deep uneasiness possessed June.
When her own door was closed and
she was alone, she stood still, even
her eyes unmoving. It might be,
she thought, the sullen electric air
which made her thus restless and
full of a vague foreboding.
CHAPTER III
June undressed slowly, listlessly.
There was nothing in life as she
knew it which could provoke her to
eagerness. Her movements were
automatic, her thoughts went round
and round a familiar circle.
This was her world. These folk
who had been here tonight, and Un-
cle Jim, who lived in the hut by the
pond. She thought of him now with
a faint smile. There was sound
mirth in him. He used to laugh at
these people here; contrived nick-
names for them all to make June
smile. Grandma Bowdon was the
Iron Hand, Aunt Evie the Velvet
Glove. Grandma and Grandpa Hur-
der were the Conquered Provinces.
He never sought to make June
laugh at her mother, she remem-
bered now. Once or twice she had
tried to persuade Kitty Leaford to
go with her to meet Uncle Jim.
"You'd like him, Mother," she had
urged. "I know you would."
But her mother would never go.
The girl went mechanically about
the business of preparing for the
night. Her eyes drifted half-reserit-
fully around the ugly room. She
loosed her hair and brushed it slow-
ly for a while, watching her reflec-
tion in the mirror above the marble
slab. The house long since was still.
When at last she turned out her
own light and opened one of the tall
windows, she saw Aunt Evie's house
next door was dark and silent too.
Also she saw, far off, a flicker in
the sky; she even heard the rumble
of thunder. Yet the storm might
not come this way, or if it did, her
mother might not waken. She got
into the big bed and lay without
drawing any covering over her, for
the night was hot, and the air was
lifeless and still. The old house
creaked all around her; mice scur-
ried in the walls.
She must have slept at last, and
for an indeterminate time. It was
a gust of wind which woke her, a
sudden quickening in the tempo of
the night. Then lightning etched a
net of flame across the sky, and the
crashing thunderstroke burst in her
ears.
June was not afraid of thunder-
showers; but her mother, despite
the drug she had taken, might have
waked: June decided to go in and
see. She knew the older woman
would be, if she were awake, cower-
| ing now, and crying out as though
from an actual physical pain. The
girl got out of bed and crossed the
hall to her mother's door.
Without opening the door, she lis-
tened, but she heard no sound from
within. Yet still June hesitated, un-
certain, uneasy for no reason. In
the end she opened the door and
spoke softly into the darkness.
"Mother, are you all right?"
But there was no reply, and June
was reassured. She was about to
return to her own room, when light-
ning flashed again, close by,' and
the glare of it was bright in the win-
dow "by Kitty Leaford's bed. So
June saw her mother for this in-
stant, clearly.
And when the lightning passed,
the girl stood still, her eyes dilated.
There had been something alarm-
ing in her mother's posture, in the
way she lay along the bed.
With an abrupt movement June
turned on the light. An air-current
coming from the open window in her
own room blew her door shut with
a reverberating crash; and she
leaped with dismay at the sudden
sound. But her mother had not
roused—did not move as June bent
over the bed.
Mrs. Leaford lay on her side, her
head pillowed on her left arm: her
right arm limp along the coverlets.
June had seen her in a drugged
sleep before, and there was nothing
patently alarming in her appear-
ance now. But though her mother
lay on her side, her head was turned
so that her face was upward. The
posture looked uncomfortable; and
June very gently tried to move her
mother's head to the left so that it
might be at ease.
But when June touched Kitty Lea-
ford's cheek smeared with un-
guents, her heart turned cold.
June caught her mother's shoul-
ders. She shook them; she cried:
"Mother! Mother!"
But Kitty Leaford made no re-
sponse. June might as well have
shaken a bolster loosely stuffed with
sand.
The girl backed away from the
bed, her hands pressed to her lips.
She turned and ran down the stairs
to the telephone in the hall.
The instrument was dead. She
snapped on the hall light—an elec-
tric bulb hanging by one wire in
the midst of the gas chandelier—
and in that naked illumination she
tried the telephone again, without
response.
Terror was clamoring in her; she
tried to fight it down, to think what
she should do.
Grandpa and Grandma Hurder
were asleep at the end of the hall,
but she knew there was no help in
them. Even if there were help any-
where.
Then the electric light faded and
died, and June stood in the dark
hall like a tomb. She was stifled
by the blackness; she gasped for
breath; and the front door blew
open, banging against the wall, and
the girl choked back a scream.
She was swept by desperate and
nameless terror; a gust of rain
came sweeping in, and June ran
blindly to meet it, out through the
door, into the full beat of the rain.
The touch of it was sweet and cool.
Then she remembered that the
front door was always locked and
bolted. Uncle Justus had bolted it
tonight. Why had it opened of it-
self?
Blind panic possessed her utterly;
yet she clung to one thought: she
must fetch Doctor Cabler.
She might have roused Rab or
Asa, asleep next door. Rab had even
a car. But she took no time to
think of these things. She was al-
ready racing across the lawn; she
found the gate in the hedge, and felt
the smooth hard macadam under
her feet, and ran swiftly. Occa-
sionally lightning (lashes illumined
her way, kept her in the road.
She had gone halfway to Doctor
Cabler's house when a car came
down the hill behind her. She tried
to run faster, to escape this pur-
suer; but this was vain, and she
turned off the road, and fell, and
scrambled to her feet and stood like
a wild creature brought to bay.
The car stopped beside her, and
someone asked a question.
She stammered something, for
this was a man's voice, and June
was not habituated to encounter
strange men. But instantly, while
he used some persuasion, she found
herself in the seat beside him.
He offered her his coat, but she
refused it. Then this young man
beside her turned out the dash-light
so that darkness drew a protective
garment over her, and she was
warm with gratitude to him. She
said: "Thank you—" She watched
him covertly, controlling her breath.
He asked some question, suggest-
ing that she was afraid, and she
told him that she was not afraid.
Yet her knees were trembling and
her fingers pressed her palms.
He spoke again, but she did not
hear him. She watched the road,
and at the beginning of the path
through the wood to Doctor Cab-
ler's house, she bade this young
man stop the car. He did so, and
she alighted, and ran away along
the path.
But hidden in the wood, she
stopped to look back; and she
stayed there till he drove on, watch-
ing the headlights of his car till
their gleam was lost behind a screen
of trees.
When he was gone, she stood like
one bereft, as though with him a
part of herself had departed too.
But then, in the darkness and the
rain, terror returned to spur her on.
She ran up the path and so came
pounding on the Doctor's door.
At length a flashlight's beam
came down the stairs; she could see
it through the panel of the door. It
struck her in the eyes through the
glass; and at the same time the
door opened. The light was in her
eyes, and Doctor Cabler exclaimed:
"June! God bless me!"
She whispered:
"Come quick, Doctor Cabler!"
"Come in, June," he commanded,
and led her into the hall and shut
the door. "You're drenched. What
is it?"
"Oh, hurry, hurry!" she cried.
"It's Mother. She's dead!"
The word on her own lips struck
her like a blow. She had not till
this moment shaped this word even
in her thoughts. "Oh, hurry," she
repeated; and thought in a dispas-
sionate apathy that the injunction
was absurd. If her mother was0
dead, there could be no reason for
haste. This had not occurred to her
before.
"Eh?" the Doctor exclaimed. !
"Dead?"
"Yes," said June, in an empty
tone. Even though the admission |
convicted her of folly, convicted her
of having lost her wits, of having j
run without the slightest occasion '
half a mile through drenching rain,
yet she had no doubt that what she '
said was true.
Kitty Leaford was dead. Of this,
now, June was sure.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Joe
McCarthy
Hut in Which Romulus and Remus Were
Suckled by She-Wolf Still Standing
There is one little spot in Rome
that is missed by the hundreds of
thousands of visitors who go each
year to the Eternal city. Usually
when a foreigner thinks of Rome,
he thinks in terms of the Colosseum,
the Forum or the Pantheon, writes
Andre Simonpietri in "The Rich-
mond Times-Dispatch."
If he is an artist, his desire is to
see the Sistine Chapel and Michael
Angelo's "Last Judgment," or per-
haps Raphael's rooms. If he is an
architect, he will want to visit St.
Peter's Basilica and study Bernini's
colonnade, or muse over the im-
mense and inexplicable arches of
the Baths of Caracalla. If he is a
politician, he will try to pull enough
strings to arrange an interview with
Mussolini. If he is a Catholic, he
will want to see the Holy Father and
receive his blessing.
So, perhaps that is the reason so
very few ever locate this gem, the
"house" where Romulus and Re-
mus, the founders of Rome, pillowed
their baby heads in the furry side
of the she-wolf.
You'll remember the story of how
the two little waifs were found by
the wolf on the banks of the tawny
Tiber, and how the savage beast,
her motherly instincts aroused, car-
ried the foundlings to her lair. There
she suckled them and nursed them
through the weakness of infancy to
sturdy childhood. When the two
could feed for themselves, so the
legend has it, the noble creature I
took herself off to a secluded spot
and there let her animal soul speed
on its way in peace.
Then the two youths went forth |
into the tribes that inhabited the !
Sabine hills, and there they bar-
tered for wives. Upon their return
they set about the business of found- |
ing a new race and a new city, after j
having divided their tiny domain.
By ROBERT McSIIANE
DASEBALL experts, officials and
*-* fans are almost unanimous in
their belief that something must be
done about the New York Yankees
before they eliminate all thought of
competition in the American league.
The Yanks won the 1936 Ameri-
can league pennant by 19V4 games.
In 1937 they won by 13 games, and
in 1938 by 9',i games. The belief
that their superiority was growing
less pronounced—a belief fostered
by the diminishing margin of vic-
tory—has proved untrue.
In the American league circuit it
is being said that the Yanks will be
from 8 to 12 games
ahead by July 4.
This means they
might as well call
off the rest of the
race, that Joe Mc-
Carthy's aggrega-
lion is too good for
the rest of the teams
in baseball.
Whether or not you
Ssjlp subscribe to the the-
ory—and we do not
—that the Yankees
should be broken up
for the good of base-
ball, you will agree that some steps
must be taken to revive an interest
! already flagging.
When Lou Gehrig benched him-
self they lost one o» the greatest
players of all time. When Joe Di-
Maggio sprained an ankle they lost,
temporarily, today's outstanding
player. But what happened with
those two great performers out of
the lineup? The Yanks, with Babe
Dahlgren on first base, won 17 out
of their next 20 games.
Keep Talent at Home
Not long ago Oscar Vitt, Cleve-
| land manager, hinted that New York
was ruining the American league by
snatching all the pennants and by
shipping talent, fresh from the mi-
nors and good enough for other clubs
in the same circuit, to the National
league.
To bear him out a hasty survey
shows that in the last three years
the Yanks have sold Bob Seeds, out-
fielder, and Johnny McCarthy, first
baseman, to the Giants; Outfielder
Jim Gleeson to the Cubs, Shortstop
Nolen Richardson and Catcher Wil-
lard Hershberger to the Reds and
Shortstop Eddie Miller to the Bees.
The last named is being hailed as
one of the best infielders to enter
the National league in years. Al-
most any club in the Yanks' home
circuit would have been glad to get
him.
During the coming year officials
of the league are certain to discuss
methods of equalizing the strength
of its teams. They cannot, of course,
take forcible measures and distrib-
ute the Yanks' star performers
among the weaker clubs. Nor is it
likely the team will be voluntarily
broken up by player sales.
One course is open to American
league officials. They can do all in
their power to urge the Yanks to
keep all excess material in their
home circuit. This would be in di-
rect contrast to the Yanks' present
policy of selling players only to
those teams which can't possibly
threaten their supremacy. Over a
long period the Yanks' present ac-
tions will build up the National
league at the expense of the Amer-
ican, a costly process in the end.
Cards Build Own League
The St. Louis Cardinals, for in-
stance, dispose of their excess play-
ers to clubs .^w-rs-v
within their own
league, which
maintains the
strength of the
entire organiza-
tion. Though
they were devel-
oped on Cardi-
nal farms, there
was no place for
Bill Lee and
Johnny Rizzo on
the St. Louis
team. But they
were sold to
Bill Lee
Color of Horses
Few people seem able to describe
the color of a horse unless their
occupation concerns horses. A bay
horse, notes a writer in London An-
swers Magazine, is a reddish-brown
with black mane, tail, and points;
sometimes with a white blaze or
stocking. Chestnuts have the mane,
tail, and points of the same hue as
the rest, or lighter. Brown horses
frequently have dark points. A
clipped light brown may be mistak-
en for a chestnut. A roan is a horse
whose body color (brown, bay, or
chestnut) is flecked with bluish-
gray. A strawberry roan has blu-
ish-gray spots on a bright bay skin.
A piebald has patches of black on
a white ground. A skewbald is
splashed with brown on a white
ground. In speaking of a horse's
height, a "hand" is four inches.
clubs in the same league.
The argument that other clubs
should build up to meet the Yanks
is not as logical as it sounds. The
Yankees have a potential audience
of 10,000,000 people. Some of the
other clubs are located in territories
where not more than 1,000,000 peo-
ple live. It is only natural that New
York's gate receipts would be great-
er, allowing more money for organ-
ization and investment in players.
Tom Yawkey of Boston is one man
attempting to fight the Yanks on
their home grounds, and even for
that moneyed gentleman it's going
to be a tough, uphill struggle.
To date the American league is
not the drawing power it was in the
past. Weather conditions have been
blamed by Edward G. Barrow, pres-
ident of the Yankees, for unfilled
grandstands. However, one writer
pointed out that Jersey City, near
New York and having the same
weather conditions, has drawn larg-
er crowds to minor league games
than the world's champions have at-
tracted in their mutilation of Amer-
ican league competition.
It can't be blamed on the weath-
er. At least not altogether. Fans
have grown tired of peeing the Yan-
kees win with such little effort.
T
Yesterday's Heroes
r\UKlNG the past few weeks ap-
proximately 6,000 football play-
ers have been turned loose upon the
nation by America's 1,000 colleges
and universities. This is an average
of six men per squad at all institu-
tions of more than preparatory
school rating.
For the majority of these men
football holds no interest other than
that of an enthusiastic spectator. A
few will remain as coaches. How-
ever, those that do are exceptionally
talented. Coaching no longer has
the appeal for graduates. Colleges
are looking more and more each
season to professional football and
high schools for staff replacements.
Most embryo coaches find their only
openings in high school jobs, and
prep assignments lack the induce-
ment they hoped to find.
Contrary to general belief, which
holds that practically all good foot-
ball players join professional ranks,
the National Football league will
provide playing jobs for approxi-
mately 250 graduates—one out of ev-
ery 24 college players meet major
league football requirements.
The great majority of these men
will go to work in the more prosaic
fields. In their ranks are lawyers,
doctors, engineers—in fact, any and
all branches of business and tl* pro-
fessions.
The National Football league is to
be congratulated that it doe* not
hold out false hopes to men who
might expect to capitalize on tal-
ents cultivated during three years
of collegiate competition.
The graduates deserve a hand for
being intelligent enough to realize
that their futures depend on their
capabilities in the business world.
And not on past gridiron perform-
ances.
Great Finisher
XIT'HEN speaking of baseball's
» » great relief pitchers, the av-
erage fan thinks of Johnny Murphy
with the New York Yankees, Dick
Coffman of the Giants, Jack Russell, I
formerly with the Senators, and now i
with the Cubs, Sarge Connally of '
the old White Sox. Those and a few
more.
A close checkup on the Chicago
White Sox will reveal that one of
baseball's truly great relief twiriers
. a- „>|b»
DEPARTMENT
u. r . ?-» „jv£'
POULTRY REMEDY
Bloody Diarrhea in Chicks. Stop it Over
I Night. I have treated thousands. $1 treats
500 Chicks. Dr. I. W. Clark, Genesee, Dl.
BOOKS—PAMPHLETS
YOU'LL LOVE IT!
Flood City Poet-Artist's famous little book
j "Jes' Friends." It's original. Sent post-
paid for 25c (full price) stamps or coin.
Sam Kellogg, P. O. Box 2A3, Johnstown, Pa.
Business Opportunities
STEADY WORK for men mechanically
inclined, in your locality. Own Boss. Easy-
work and Good Money. Write FACTORY^.
508 S. W. SECOND, PORTLAND. ORE.
Manage your own business. Profitable.
Steady income. Fast repeats. No competi-
tion. Car needed. Write Jetol Products-
Co., 309 Medical Arts Bldg-., Minneapolis.
Chamberlain's Umbrella
Tlio. Truth at Last?
We in this country who do not
make a practice of carrying an
umbrella on all occasions have-
been somewhat puzzled about Mr-
Chamberlain's famous rain-stick-
There must be some sinister se-
cret behind it, we feel. To en-
lighten us, a British correspondent
reveals the following facts:
"Mr. Chamberlain's umbrella iff
actually a sword-stick, that is to
say, the handle can be pulled out
and a thin rapier withdrawn from
the stem. Mr, Chamberlain is an
expert fencer.
"The ribs of the umbrella cart
be removed and expanded at a
moment's notice into a wire en-
tanglement, behind which Mr.
Chamberlain could take cover if
charged by cavalry. The cover
can quickly be converted into a
sandbag and used either for a fir-
ing rest for the elbow, a pillow
when sleeping on the veldt, or as
a rifle rest.
"Dangling from the umbrella's
middle is a black tassel in which
messages may be hidden and!
dropped from an airplane when
all other communications fail."
We Americans have a reputa--
tion for believing many things, but
—we doubt if we can swallow this,
one! ... J
How Women
in Their 40's
Can Attract Men
Here's pood advire for a woman durine b«r
ehanjre (usually from .'18 to 52), who fears
she'll lose her appeal to men, who worries
about hot flashes, loss of pep, dizzy spells,
upset nerves and moody spells.
Get more fresh air, 8 hrs. sleep and if you
need a good general system tonic take Lydia
E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound, made
especially for women. It helps Nature ^uild
up physical resistance, thus helps give more
vivacity to enjoy life and assist calming
jittery nerves and disturbing symptoms that
often accompany change of life. WELL
WORTH TRYING!
Aid in Silence
When you have nothing to say,
say nothing; a weak defense
strengthens your opponent, and si-
lence is less injurious than a weak
reply.—Colton.
Scalp
[Massage
After shampooing'make
scalp tingle with a
Penetro scalp massage
—stainless. Try It.
PENETRO
CLINT BROWN
is still saving ball frames for Louis
C'omiskcy. He i,s Clint Brown, one
of the most spectacular rescue art-
ists of the diamond.
Brown left Cleveland for Chicago
in the winter of 1936. He was large-
ly responsible fur the third-place fin-
ish of the White Sox in 1936 and 1937.
In the first season he figured in 38
games for the Sox. winning six, los-
ing two and working 83 innings. In
1937 he was in a total of 53 games,
working 100 innings, winning seven
and losing seven.
The trouble shooter was canceled
out last season following an opera-
tion for a chipped bone. That
wasn't, of course, the only reason
the Sox finished in the second divi-
sion, but it was a contributing fac-
tor that cannot be overlooked.
The loss of Monte Stratton, ace
starting pitcher, was a severe blow
to the Sox this year. Their hopes
were pinned on Stratton, whose ca-
reer was cut short when he lost a
leg in a hunting accident. But
the Sox are still plenty bad medi-
cine—and one of the big reasons is
Clint Brown, unparalleled trouble
shooter. He's back in form again,
and as dangerous as ever.
Brown has proved that sometimes
a great finishing pitcher is just as
valuable as a great starting pitcher.
Sport Shorts
TOMMY HARMON says the four
best putters in golf today are
Horton Smith, Paul Runyan, Johnny
Revolta and Ralph Guldahl ... In
the 43 years of the National Open
golf championship there have been
13 ties for the title. Bobby Jones
was in four of them, winning two of
the playoffs and losing two . . .
Lacrosse was introduced this spring
as part nf the intramural program
at Michigan . . . Jim Fitzsimmons,
the horse trainer, has one supersti-
tion—if he wins a stake race, he
wears the same tie until he loses.
(Released bv Western Newspaper Union.)
Narrow Souled
It is with narrow-souled people
as with narrow-necked bottles—
the less they have in them the
more noise they make in pouring
it out.—Pope.
Malaria • Chilis* Fever
Take reliable Oxidine. Stops chilli and
fever, dean blood of malaria. Famous lj
for 50 yeari. Money-back guarantee. -
OXIDINE
WNU—P
24—39
In the Cause
It is the cause, and not the
death, that makes the martyr.—
Napoleon I.
Today's popularity
®of Doan's Pills, after
many years of world-
wide use, surely must
be accepted as evidence
of satisfactory U3e.
And favorable public
opinion supports that
of the able physicians
who test the value of
Doan's under exacting
laboratory conditions.
These physicians,
too, approve every word of advertising
you read, the objective of which is only to
recommend Doan's Pills as a Rood diuretic
treatment for functional kidney disorder
and for relief of the pain and worry it
causes.
If more people were nware of how the
kidneys must constantly remove waste
that cannot stay in the blood without in-
jury to health, there would be better un-
derstanding of why the whole body Buffers
when kidneys lag, and diuretic medica-
tion would be more often employed.
Burning, scanty or too frequent urina-
tion may be warning of disturbed kidney
function. You may suffer nagging hack-
ache, persistent headache, attacks of diz-
ziness, getting up nights, swelling, pufft-
ness under the eyes—feci weak, nervous,
till played out.
Use Doait's Pills. It Is better to rely on
a medicine that has won world-wide eo-
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known. Ash your nviyhlorl
D0ANS PILLS
,
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Dismukes, Mrs. J. W. Palacios Beacon (Palacios, Tex.), Vol. 32, No. 24, Ed. 1 Thursday, June 15, 1939, newspaper, June 15, 1939; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth411899/m1/3/?q=%22%22~1: accessed July 16, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Palacios Library.