Denison Daily News. (Denison, Tex.), Vol. 4, No. 89, Ed. 1 Sunday, June 4, 1876 Page: 6 of 8
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IfflM WfAB&MSS. that his fatties eskU,'*Mugh suffi-
Bf J. BOYLE O’MILUY. I
Only ai«l!en hor*e, Mretcbed 6Ut there on Uw
road,
StretebMMn the tonkin »haft», ajxt crnehed by
Only a fallen howe and a circle of wondering
Watching the frighted teamater goading the
beaut to rise.
Ho Id! for hie toll ie owr—*o more labor for him;
See the poor neck outstretched and the patient
eyes grow dim;
Sec on the friendly etonee how peacefully rests
his head—
Thinking, if dumb beast* think, how good it is
to be dead;
After the burdened Turney, how restful it is to
lie
With the broken shafts and the cruel load—wait-
ing only to die I
yv ateliers, he died in harness—died in the shafts
and strap*—
fell, and the great load killed him; one of the
day’s mishaps—
One of the passing wonders marking the city
road—
A toiler dying in harness, heedless of call or
goad.
Passers, crowding the pathway, staying your
steps awhile.
What is the symbol? “Only death? why should
we cease to snule
At death for a beast of burden?" On through
the busy street
That is ever and ever echoing the tread of the
hurrying feet!
----y*----•• |/vwwivu »u (*
counting-house, thus becoming self-sup-
porting. Darling Wilber had studied
law, but his first client had not yet ap-
peared, and, Mrs. Gorhan supported
him, trusting his fascinations would
touch the heart of some moneyed belle.
Miss Caldwell was the present hope.
She was her own mistress, an orphan-
heiress, and very handsome. That she
was proud and cold in manner was on-
ly an additional charm to Mrs. Gorham j
and Lucilla, Arabella, and Corinne were
enthusiastic in their admiration of
“ Cornelia Caldwell’s queenly manner. ”
Nobody suspected that Fred, blunt,
straightforward Fred, hid one secret in
his heart, confessed to no living being.
And that secret was a love, pure and
true, for Cornelia Caldwell—a J<
“You must let your aunt drive an
hour or two with me, Mr. Gorham.
I am going to do some shop-
fett pmg, so I will not tax vour
patience by inviting you to join us,
but I shall be pleased If Miss Gorman
will dine with me, and you will call for
Knw flitn It
What was the sign? A symbol to touch the tire-
less will. .
Poof' ho who taught in parables speak in para-
The
bles still?
Bectr on the rock is wasted—on heedless
-labor
hearts of men,
That gather and sow and grasp and lose
and sleep—and then—
Then for tho prize! A crowd in the street of
ever echoing tread—
The toiler, crushed by the heavy load, is there in
his harness—dead!
—Jlitston Pitot.
, . ....------ _iove that
would shut itself closely away from
any suspicion of fortune-hunting—that
only drooped and mourned thinking of
the heiress.
By 4 o’clock Fred was at the station,
witing for Aunt Sabina. What a little,
old-fashioned figure she was, in her
her this evening.”
Then she smiled again, made Sabina
comfortable in the carriage and drove
off; leaving Fred forty times deeper in
love than ever, as she intended he
should be.
“He Isa very prince of men,” she
thought, “ and 1 will give him one day’s
rest. Bless the dear old soul! she has
such blue eyes as my dear old grand-
mother had.” ‘ ”
Then she won Sabina’s confidence,
and found she was worrying about the
purchase of certain household matters
that would not go in the black leather
trunk, and she did not like to worry Fred
about it.
She drove to the places where the
THE DIFFERENCE.
Born in a palace on Golden Square,
Swaddled in laces rich and rare;
Hocked in a cradle ef gold filigree,
imported expressly from over the sea;
Horn to be petted,indulged, and caressed,
ilorri to be always exquisitely dressed;
Servants in legions to w ait her command,
And all things about her the best in the land;
Born to be married some sunshiny day—
High priest, grand old church, and royal
display;
Bridesmaids all beauties, and bridegroom
beside
With a rent-roll as long as the train of the
bride.
Who would not be born to a life such as this?
Horn and brought tqi to unvarying bliss?
And at last, when death comes, to lie down
t to rest.
To waken in Heaven with the fairest and
best?
Horn in a hovel in itattlebone Lane,
Wrapped in coarse rags, neither plenty nor
clean;
\ cradle of straw, a carpet of earth,
And never a neighbor to welcome her birth.
Horn to be tossed and tumbled about, | see you it
Horn to go hungry, “’cause mother is out;” .1 p.-n
Day after day left alone in the pen, 1 1
rethought of, uncared for by angels or men.
quaint black bonnet, and large-figure
shawl. But Fred knew her kindly old
face at once, though he had not seon it
since he was 12 years old.
“ You are aunt,” lie said, going quick-
ly to meet her.
She looked at the handsome face, and
caught a quick, gasping breath.
“ You must be one of John’s boys,”
she said. “ How like you are to your
father.”
“ I am Fred,” he answered.
“Dear heart! How you’ve grown!
Is your ma here?”
“ She is waiting for you at home.”
The good old country woman had
never had the least doubt of a warm
welcome at her brother’s house, and
Fred certainly confirmed her expecta-
tions. He found the old black leather
trunk, the bag, the band-box, the great
bulging cotton umbrella, and put them
all in the carriage. lie made liis aunt
go to the restaurant and refresh herself
before starting on the long drive home.
He listened with respectful interest to
all the mishaps of the long journey, and
sympathized with the “Ruination of
every mortal stitch I’ve got on, dear,
in the dust and smoke.”
And be chatted pleasantly of his
childish recollections of the tiny house
and wide farm where Sabina lived.
“You see,” she told him, “I made
up my mind this year I would come to
see you all once more before 1 died.
to before
best goods could be had, keeping guard
over the slender purse against all im-
position till the last towel was satisfac-
torily chosen and directed. Then she
drove her home and brought her in the
room where “grandmother” was
queen, knowing the stately old lady
would make the country-woman wel-
come.
In the evening that followed Fred’s
heart was touched and warmed till,
scarcely conscious of his own words, he
told Ids long-cherished secret and knew
that he had won love for love.
Aunt Sabina stayed two weeks and
then went home, to the immense relief
of the Gorhams, and carrying no reoret
at leaving any but Fred and Cornelia.
It was not even suspected that Cor-
nelia spent four weeks in the height of
the summer season, listening to the
Praises of Fred at Sabina’s farm house;
and 1 red did not know it until lie came
too, after she was gone, and had his
share of listening to loving commenda-
tion of one he loved.
He wore the necktie and made him-
self so much at homo, that Sabina wept,
some of the bitterest tears of her life
when he left.
“To have you both and lose you!”
she sobbed.
“ Next time we will come together,”
Fred whispered, and so consoled her.
But alas! the next time Fred came
was to superintend the funeral erf the
gentle old lady; and though Cornelia
came too, his happy wife, there was no
welcome in the pale lips, or the blue
eyes closed forever.
Waking Lp an Old Woman.
•■• I fl J N-. *•," v -J
The other day a woman about 50
years old called at the Central Depot,
lugging a big sachel, and after looking
around a little she took a pie from the
eating-stand and sat down for a lunch.
When asked to hand over the cash value
of said pie ahe replied:
“ You don’t get one red cent, and if
yon say much I’ll climb over there and
mop the floor with you.”
It was soon discovered that she was
“tuf,” and for fear of a row she was not
again asked for 15 cents. When she had
finished) the pie she walked around, and
presently asked Ofticer Button what
time the train started for Hopper City.
He said he never heard of any such
town, and she remarked:
“ Well, you want to plug around and
find when the cars leave, or I’ll make
your heels break your neck!”
lie kept shy of her for half an hour,
and she went into the gentlemen’s wait-
ing-room, made a bed on one of the
benches, and was soon fast asleep.
Word was brought to Officer Button,
and he went in to rouse her. She had
her head on the sachel, and by accident
he brushed the tip of her long nose.
Opening her eyes, but not moving a
limb, she said:
“Boy! I’ll make you holler like a
loon when I get up!”
“ Come—this is no place for you,” he
replied.
“Do you know my business better
than I do?” she queried.
“But you must get up,” he protest-
ed.
“Go away, boy!” she warned, “go
away before I hurt you!”
“ Will you get up?” he demanded.
She got up. She got up slowly, and
regularly and gracefully, and as she
reached her feet she took him by the
hair and cramped her fingers until his
eyes looked like full moons.
“Boy! what did I tell you?” she
quietly asked, shutting down a little
tighter.
He grasped her arm, and after a
struggle broke her hold, but her lingers
brought away enough hair to make two
big birds’ nests
Egfttfta iFfftertf lit* In New Yerk
Wtf#
New York, May 28.—The funeral of
Baron de Palm, according to ancient
Egyptian rites, was the occasion for a
gathering of nearly 4,000 people at the
Masonic Temple this afternoon.
The deceased Baron, who came to
this country 16 years ago, had express-
ed a wish that no Christian priest or
minister be allowed to take part in his
obsequies. They ’were conducted by
the Theosophical Society of this city, of
which deceased was a member. Only
those having tickets—about 1,500 in all
—were admitted to the building. The
assemblage was well dressed, and in-
tensely curious in regard to the nature
of the funeral rites. They were of
much simpler character than had been
expected.
The platform, or altar, was embel-
lished by an incense burner, which, ac-
cording to the offices of the Society,
was emblematic of the worship of fire,
and a wooden cross bearing a serpent,
which seemed engaged in an honest but
fruitless effort to bite his own tail.
This was typical, according to a mem-
ber of the Association, of the evolution
of matter. Between the cross and the
vase of burning incense, and directly in
front of the stage, appeared the coffin.
It was a handsome ebony casket, bound
with silver, and bearing the name, age,
and titles of the dead gentleman. On
it were placed seven lighted candles,
five of them white, one red, and the
other green. They were also intended
to typify the worship of fire and light.
Seated on the stage in a circle be-
hind the coffin were the President and
six members or fellows of the Associa-
tion. They were all clad in long, flow-
ing gowns of a heavy, black woolen
material, and each of them bore in his
“Now you want to behave yourself!”
he gasped as he looked around for his
hat.
hand a bunch of green leaves, which
signified their “Good-will and peace
toward men.”
Col. Oleott, as Master, conducted the
ceremonies. After brief intervals of
music, the questions and responses be-
gan. They consisted of curiously
phrased questions and answers from a
regular ancient Egyptian liturgy in re-
gard to the nature of God, the human
soul, and a future state of existence.
During the questions and answers, in-
cense was burned. An old gentleman,
who did not like the nature of the ideas
put forth in the ritual, ordered his
Horn to wander about from her earliest days,
fleas*', ma’am, cold victuals,” her oft utter-
ed jjhrase;
Horn to pick cinders and rags from the street,
Drest but in tatters, with poor naked feet.
her
Horn and brought up a nursling of vice,
Its sounds for her ears and it sightt for
eyes;
Nothing but misery, darkness, and shame,
Till death ends italllike some terrible dream.
.....+ *»-
THE REWARD OF KINDNESS.
Mrs. Gorham put down a letter she
had been reading, and looking around
the table at her blooming daughters and
two tall, handsome sons, she" said in a
doleful tone:
“ Your Aunt Sabina is coming, and
has invited Herself here without eere-
monv.”
1 When ?”
something or nuther allers hindered
Dear, dear! You’re all grown up, I
s’pose, and you was but a lot o’ babies
last time poor John brought you to see
“Time!” she called, giving him a
thumping kick as he bent over for his
tile. ; t'”v »”**'“ ■“ ai, uriiercu ms
It jarred him all over, and he reached I daughter to. leave the organ. So a part
for her arm to lead her out of the room , the musical part of the ceremonies
T, , ,, , , | “Five to three that you can’t do it!” j had l,° wdh- ,
But the wi l the old lady left, gave she snarled, taking his collar and neck- , ( l,L 01?ott delivercd :l lengthy ad-
,mw al1 her worldly possessions to her “dear I tie off at one grab! I dress on ,iie nature of theosophism, and
allers hindered ! 1U>1w ?redcrio Gorham”-the farm He didn’t want to hurt a woman, and i ™d ,b,! ,leceas!‘d “aron, after a long
s mnuerea. | and farm-house he turned to go out and consult author-! .lfe.!n c0Urtus.and a ™roer of ambition,
i ity. : nnding nothing in the creeds to satisfy
---- - - 1 his inquiries in regard to a future state,
me.
------- asked Arabella, with an
intonation of intense disgust.
“ She will reach here this afternoon.
• Wilber, you will have to meet her.”
“Sorry, ma; but 1 promised to drive
Miss Caldwell to the park. Fred can
go.”
“Certainly, I will go,” Fred said
gravely, though there was a hot flush
on his forehead. “ l am very fond of
aunt.”
“Nonsense!” said his mother. “You
have not seen her for fourteen years.
1 never went to the detestable old farm
after your father died.”
“ Nevertheless, I have a vivid recol-
lection of Aunt Sabina’s kindness while
we were there.”
“Dear me, Fred,” drawled Lucilla,
“ don’t be sentimental. I wish the old
thing would stay home. I can’t im-
agine what she is coming here for.”
“ She is our father’s sister,” said Fred,
“ and I can not find any thing surpris-
ing in her looking for a welcome among
her brother’s children.”
Mrs. Gorham shrugged her shoulders.
If she had spoken her thought, it
would have been—“Fred is so odd!
Just like his father.” But she only said
—“ I may depend ujon you, then, to
meet your aunt, Fred? I will seeaboNt
her room.”
It was a .source of great satisfaction
to Mrs. Gorham that her children were
all like herself. “ ‘Greers,’ every one
except Fred,” she would say, congratu-
lating herself that the blood of “Gor-
ham pere” was not transmitted in the
features of her elder son, Wilber, or
any of the three girls.
That Greer pride meant intense self-
ishness; that Greer beauty was of a
cold, hard type; that Greer disposition
was tyrannical and narrow-minded—
did not trouble Airs. Gorham. That
the son, who was “all Gorham,” was
proud to the core with the pride that
knows no false shame—that no was no-
ble in disposition, handsome in a frank,
manly type, generous and self-sacrific-
ing—she could not appreciate. His
hands and feet were not so small aa
darling Wilber’s, he had no fasldonable
affectations and no “Greer” look. So his
mother thought, him rough and coarse,
and bis sis’ors declared that he had no
style at all. But outside the home,
where a great show of wealth was made
by many private economies, Fred was
more appreciated.
When he became a man, and knew
-• Corinne is the youngest, and she is
18. Wilber is the only one older than
I am.”
“ Yes, I remember. Well, dear, I’m
glad that John’s wife brought up such
a fine family. I’m only an old maid,
but I do love children and young folks.”
But a chill fell upon the kindly old
heart when home was reached at last,
and four fashionably dressed ladies gave
her a strictly courteous greeting. °But
for the warm clasp of Fred’s hand, 1
think she would have returned to the
station in the same carriage she came,
so wounded and sore she felt.
_ “Not one kiss,” she thought, “ and
Fred kissed me at the train, right be-
fore all the folks.”
Fred slipped a silver coin into the
hands of the servant girl-who was to
wait upon his aunt, promising another
if she was very attentive, and himself
escorted the old lady to her room. It
was not often the young man’s indig-
nation found voice, though it grew hot
over many shameful acts of hard selfish-
ness in the house of his mother; but he
said some words on that day that called
a blush to the cheeks of the worldly
woman.
It was not a Very b«sy season; and
finding Sabina was likely to have a sor-
ry time if left to the other members of
the family, Fred asked for a holiday,
and appointed himself the old lady’s es-
cort. He was too proud to care
for the fact that the quaint little
figure on his arm attracted many
an amused glance, but gravely stood by
while a new dress for Dolly the dairy-
maid, and a city necktm for Bob the
hired man, were purchased.
He gave undivided attention to the
more important selection of a new black
silk for aunty herself, and pleasantly
accepted a blue silk scarf, with large
red spots, that was presented to him,
appreciating the love that prompted*
the gift, and mentally resolving to wear
it when he paid the promised visit to
the farm. He drove Aunt Sabina to the
park. He took her to see all the sights.
Once or twice, meeting some of his
gentlemen friends, they had thought
“the queer old party is some rich rela-
tion, Gorham is so very attentive,” and
had delighted Sabina by their deferen-
tial attention.
Once—Fred had not counted on
that—in a picture gallery, Cor-
nelia Caldwell sauntered in
alone. She had heard of Sabina
through the disgusted comments of
Lucilla, and knew she had no property
Hut a “miserable farm,” but she greeted
Fred with a smile far more cordial than
she gave her admirers. A little lump
came in Fred’s throat. Then he grave-
ly introduced the stately beauty in her
rustling silk to the little old-fashioned
figure on his arm.
“ My aunt, Miss Gorham—Miss Cald-
well.”
They admired the pictures together,
and the young lady was cordial and
chatty.
After they came down the steps, Miss
Caldwell said:
and farm-house.
it was apparently no great legacy, I ity. i.........n.......**•* •»«.- umm ,
and Cornelia smiled at many of the old- i “Time!” she squeaked, putting in ' i)is in;iuiries in regard to a futu
fashioned treasures she touched, all two splendid right and left kicks. ° j found consolation in Theosoph.
with the tender reverence death j “ Will you go out of here?” he asked i the riles were over, the remains
le.i\6s. growing pale around the mouth i )Yere ■'•’Moved to a vault in the Lutheran
Fen years ago Sabina was laid to rest “Not till the undertaker carries me ( emetery, and will.it is said, be crc-
m her narrow coffin, and there is a busy, or you apologize for taking hold of my
flourishing town around the site of the : nose.” *
old farm. | “ I didn’t mean to.”
Mr. 1- rcderic (lorham lives there now, ! “ Do you apologize?”
and handles large sums of money—the I “I do ” n
rents of stateJy buildings. I “ Well, don’t never do it again, mis-
Made his money, sir, by specula-1 ter man. I’m old and a leetle faded,
tion, you will be told, if you inquire as but I’m a catamount! See here once! ”
to his source of income. “Fortunate She grasped a handful of his shirt
purchase of ground before the town was front and slammed him into a corner,
drew him out again and might have
thrown him over a bench if ihe linen
had not given away.
Come, I shall have to send you to
mated as soon as permission can be ob-
tained from the authorities. The body
was embolmed soon after death.
---_-
Cunning of the Adder,
I 6
thought of.”
But I tell you that the only specula-
tion he made was in the kindness of his
heart, extending loving attentions to his
father’s sister, and that the only land 1 tho station if you don’t stop,” he wliis-
he ever owned was Aunt Sabina’s farm.
-«r
California Vaqurros at the Centennial
Exhibition.
A troupe of California equestrians,
pered.
“Do I stop worth a cent?” she chuc-
kled, trying to kick his chin off.
He jumped out and locked the door,
and after a little she climbed out of one
of the street windows, kicjtcd a haek-
4 Sup along
• Sun ay Morning’s train, bound for the wharves to see if she could get to
I hiladelphia, where they propose to set Hopper City by water .—Detroit Free
up business as a side-show to the Cen- Press. “ 3
tennial Exposition. The company in-
cludes ten lady riders, who scorn the !
usual adjuncts of padded saddles, safe-1
ty straps, and carefully trained horses, [ ,,,
and who will perform the most daring j (''ieap “gents” always will have a
and difficult feats of the sawdust-ring ' stAde <d their own. A specimen of the
upon the bare backs of good-tempered > ^atcst costume devised by them, says
mustangs, and who defy man, woman, 11*10 Boston Globe, should be set aside
or child to produce a horse that they as a .so.’lven‘r ()f the Centennial year,
can not and will not ride in the same ! and ‘s suggested that a “ swell”from
manner. Eight male riders are also on ! ^ie junker Ilill District—where the
The Boston “Cent’s” Style.
Cheap
tyle of tl.............
latest costume devised
the Boston
---n v ....... * “IV MIOI.) I»ll
the list, selected from the most skillful
of the vaqueros of the plains, who will
ride acts of skill and daring never be-
fore seen in the circus-ring, but which
style is reported to have originated—
should be boxed and sent to the Phila-
delphia Exposition, and placed either
in the Art Gallery or Machinery Hall,
.vii iu we uncus-nng, oui WlUCn -T 1 . T J
are every-day occurrences at home with Provit*ea he be accessible to the gush-
these masters of the horse. The equine I in& 'adT correspondents. First, you
part of the establisment consists of 60 j y°l> get a nobby piece of goods—
horses, all California bred, some 0f i l^at is, one in which all the colors of
which arc as fine specimens of tho genus ! Dm,rainbow are blended, arranged in a
mustang as were ever seen, and ten1 P*a*d about two inches square, and
Spanish mules, which will probably be j sP°H*dwith white. The “pants” must
pronounced donkeys by our Eastern ' *,e niade s]Dn tight with an over-lapping
friends. With these mules it is pro- i,seatn one 'nch in width, and a “spring”
posed to revive the donkey races of the at ’*>c bottom coming clear to the
olden time, and introduce some other I The vest, must be some-
business that will make them a lasting Duug of a diamond shape and extend
fund of amusement. Accommodations j nearv to the knees; the coat must be
have been secured for the troupe at the > cut 'l *a sack, and the pockets on both
Belmont Race-Course, where Mr. liitie- <;.oa^ and vc.st must he of such dimen-
kcr, who is somewhat known to fame as ; M(,ns a,s the cloth will allow, and the
the “California Boy,” will issue a dial- . be bound with binding at least an
lenge to all comers to ride against him In< 1 *u w'dth. The overcoat to match
in long races, his distance being any- inus^ reach nearly to the heels, and
where from 10 to 300 miles.—San Fran- !nmt be bound with silk at least two
cisco Call. 1 inches it} wMih, whHe the pockets must
r, ' ----- i b° lar£tr enough to admit a common
ToSqft-boilEggs.—Have the water i sized ledger. The boots must curl up
boiling hard, and plenty of it; remove j at the toes like a dandelion stem, and
the kettle to the hearth just as you put j the welt must be large enough to carry
the eggs in, allowing them to remain J>1 a small boy, should Occasion require,
minutes. By this method they will A.slouched hat, or a beaver with a weed,
oouk through evenly, and with the
whites hardened only to the minimum.
------
—The Chancellor’s medal for the best
English poem by a resident under-grad-
idan
i ,;ast-iron cuff-buttons and pin, and a
mammoth steel chain complete this
elegant outfit.
.“ , , . e :: ; ------- r...... ; —Jacob Stadel, aged 14, of Ann Ar-
uatc of Cambridge University has been bor.Mich., while playing with a pistol
won by Alfred W Dale. I he subject loaded with gravel stones, accidentally
of the poem was Centenary of American shot himself in the thigh, causing a Jaw mid politils, the!-
Independence. I fetal wound. I night ol I AVlSc
A correspondent of the Milwaukee
Sentinel states that, over thirty years
ago, in Leeds, Greene County, N. V.,
iiis attention was one day attracted by
the plaintive cry of a cat. Looking in-
to a garden, an adder was seen near the
eat. The cat seemed to be completely
paralyzed by fear of the adder; she
kept up the plaintive cry, as if is great
distress, but did not take her eye off the
serpent, or make am attempt to attack
or escape. Soon the snake saw that
human eyes were observing him, and
he commenced to crawl slowly away.
“I then,” continues the writer of ihe
imitative, “concluded to release the
cat from its trouble. I took a mirden
rake and put it on ;he snake’s back, and
held it without hurting it. As soon as
I had the snake fast in this position, it
raised its head, flattened it out, and
blew, making a hissing noise, ami some-
thmg resembling breath or steam came
from its mouth. When that was ex-
hausted I removed the rake, and the
adder turned over on its hack, lvm.r
if dead. With the rake I turned it over
on its belly again, but it immediately
turned on its back. This was repeated
several times. Al last it was taken out
of the garden, laid in the road, and we
all retired to watch its movements j»
commenced to rase and turn its hfi u|
slowly (looking ibout the while)
entirely on its belly, and started at full
speed for a little pool of water in the
SpateE.” “ 0111 “”l
---. ____
The Two Websters.
When Mr Webster visiiej Kn-lan(|
aflet he had attained fame enou«-h to
precede him, an English gentleman
took him one dayto see Lord Brotml,am
I hat eminent Briton receive,f our
Daniel with such coolness that he was
srs,to ........... ■«
“My lord, how could y„„ behave
with such unseenJy rudeness and di
courtesy to so gloat a lawyer and states!
man? It wfu» mnilting him, and has
tilled me with nk>rtili»ation ” s
and wh™WhtUV”rt j;";;,',
* lh';
“ Great Jupitir, what a blunder' I
thought it was that fellow Webster who
.................
Then the girat Chancellor quickly
hunted up the American Senator and
having other tn|tes in common !>’,*id, s
royal
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Denison Daily News. (Denison, Tex.), Vol. 4, No. 89, Ed. 1 Sunday, June 4, 1876, newspaper, June 4, 1876; (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth722280/m1/6/: accessed June 30, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Grayson County Frontier Village.