Palacios Beacon (Palacios, Tex.), Vol. 30, No. 2, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 14, 1937 Page: 3 of 16
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/
PALACIOS BEACON. PALACIOS. TEXAS
t
Ginger Cookies
2 cupfuls molasses
1 cupful sugar
1 cupful cold water
1V4 cupfuls lard
10 teaspoonfuls ground ginger
5 teaspoonfuls soda
4 eggs
Enough flour to make a nice
dough.
Roll moderately thin and cut
with cookie cutter. Bake well but
not too fast. Makes large quantity.
Copyright.— WNU Kurvlce.
)
Andersen's Fairy Tales
One hundred years ago there
was published in Copenhagen a
pamphlet, badly printed on poor
paper and bound between thin
blue paper covers. Its author and
publisher were faint hearted
about the enterprise. Thus did the
first series of Hans Christian An-
dersen’s Fairy Tales appear.
Hans Andersen, as he is known
in Denmark, was one of the found-
ers of modern Danish. He intro-
duced Danish language into Dan-
ish prose, and before his death
Denmark credited his name with
a national holiday in honor of his
birth.
^MURDER
MASQUERADE
BY INEZ HAYNES IRWIN * *
|COPYRlGHT'INE.Z*HAYNES,IRWIN
W.N.U. SERVICEl
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i
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L
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2—37
Miserable
with backache?
W/HEN kidneys function badly and
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DOANS PILLS
MONDAY—Continued
Presently I got up and put on
my hat. strolled down the step*
Into the garden Sarah Darbe, com-
ing out of the garden with her
bunch of flowers tor the dining'
room table, smiled with a pleased
expression. "You'ie going out at
last, Mrs. Avery,” she approved.
"Yes,” I answered. "Do you
realize, Sarah, that here It is Mon-
day and I haven't left this house
since Friday night?”
"I know that, Mrs. Avery,” Sar-
ah declared earnestly. “And I'm
glad you're getting away for a
while. I wish you were lunching
somewhere."
"I don't feel like that quite yet,
I admitted. “In case anybody
telephones, I shan’t be gone long.”
I walked down my sloping drive-
way to the main road. At the road
I turned to the left, toward the
ocean — eastwardly, technically
speaking. My land runs to the
beach, bordering a road, pretty
with sumach, wild cherries, wild
grape and goldenrod. I turned up
the Head, stopped at the ilrst house
I came to, tapped gently on the
door with the old knocker.
Neat in her summer print and a
| big all-enveloping apron, Hannah
Hatfield opened the door.
Hannah had been housekeeper in
the Fairweather house for forty
years. Her ashen face is as ex-
pressionless as this sheet of paper
and her dead, pale eyes, despite
their furtive glancing, never seem
to change. But perhaps Hannah
only reflects that strange mysteri-
ous quality which, ever since they
were young girls, has laid its pall
on the Fairweather sisters.
‘‘Good morning, Hannah!” I said.
“Oh, Mis' Avery!” she exclaimed
In what I might describe as a full
whisper. “To think of its being
you. How glad I am—how glad
Miss Margaret will be to see you!
i What an awful thing to happen on
I the Head!”
I answered her hushed tone with
! one equally hushed. "Yes, awful!
I’m glad Miss Margaret's in. I
| would like to speak to her if I may.
I hope Miss Flora is not worse.
Do you suppose she can leave her
for a moment?”
"Oh, I'm sure she will see you,”
Hannah reassured me.
"How are you feeling, Hannah?”
I asked casually.
"I'm all right now, but I have
been feeling all tuckered out. Why
the other night—the night of the
murder—I was sitting up with Miss
Flora and I fell asleep in my chair.
I slept like the dead. I must have
slept for hours.”
"Miss Flora must have been
sleeping too," I commented me-
chanically.
"Yes. Mis’ Avery, she was asleep
when 1 woke up. Will you wait in
the living-room. Mis’ Avery, or
would you like to go out on the
piazza?”
"I’ll go out on the piazza, Han-
nah! I haven't seen the sea for
two days.”
I made my way through the
broad hall to a glass door at the
back, the panes of which the sun
had transmuted into golden plates.
The Fairweather house faces on the
road, but the living quarters look
onto the sea. The big glassed-in
piazza is really an extension of the
living-room—what with its couches
and tables, books and magazines,
crickets and reading lamps. It was
in perfect order, as was the rest
of the house. Yet there lingered
even in this atmosphere, the in-
tangible odor of invalidism—medi-
cines, hot - water bottles, com-
presses cold and hot—its sinister
hush weighted it.
Presently there came a step at
my side. "Oh Margaret!” I ex-
claimed still in my hushed tone,
and springing to my feet. "How are
you, my dear? And how Is Flora?"
“Flora’s about the same,” Mar-
garet Fairweather answered. "And
as for me, I’m always well.”
"You look frightfully tired today,
Margaret," I said.
And indeed I was horrified at
her appearance. Margaret Fair-
weather is a tall, big woman—pow-
erful, I might say; broad-shoul-
dered with big, fine muscular
hands. Only a few years before,
she had been our star woman-ath-
lete—tennis, golf, swimming; she
wa» even an expert fencer. But
when Flora started on the long
road which was to lead to her
agonizing death, Margaret dropped
every outside interest; devoted her-
self to her sister.
"I’d like to talk with you, Mar-
garet. Could you walk a little way
along up the Head? I wouldn’t keep
you more than a minute.”
"Yes, I think I can," Margaret
answered, taking thought. “Flora’s
sleeping. Opiate of course! I don't
want her to hear anything that
would disturb her.”
We went noiselessly back through
the broad hallway and out the front
door.
"I’ll say it's awful, Margurct,” I
began, “and no more.”
“I'll say I agree that it’s awful,”
she responded, "and no more.”
"Does Flora know about Ace?”
I asked as we drew away from the
house.
"No and never will, If I can help
it."
"There's something particular you
wanted to tell me, Mary?”
"I wanted to talk with some-
body,” I answered a little evasive-
ly. "Of course I've seen Mattie
and the Gearys. I haven’t been to
the Eameses yet Nor the Tread-
ways.”
"It’s nice about Molly and Wal-
ter,” Margaret interpolated.
“Yes, I'm very glad. I’ve seen
Molly and Walter, but I haven't
been to call yet.”
"I haven't of course—but then
I call on nobody.”
“Nobody expects it of you,” I
reassured her.
"People are wonderful about
coming,” she said. "Do they sus-
pect anybody?” she changed the
subject.
"Patrick O’Brien has just arrest-
ed Tony Torriano,” I answered.
I looked out on the rumpled blue-
green sea. I looked up to the
smooth white-gold sun. "Marga-
ret,” I said, “I’m going to tell you
something. I haven't any right to
tell it to you. I'm breaking a con-
fidence. But the arrest of Torriano
is only a blind. Patrick does not
think Torriano did 1L At the mo-
ment, it looks as though a woman
did.”
"A woman!” Margaret repeated
lifelessly.
"Yes,” I went on hurriedly, "a
woman! Torriano met Ace in my
Spinney. They had had a quarrel
that day over a bill which Ace owed
Tony for months. Ace promised to
pay him that night; made the ap-
pointment to meet him there. He
did pay him and Tony got out at
once. But Tony says that when he
left Ace he saw a woman coming
along the path from down over the
Head.”
"A woman!” Margaret repeated
in her lifeless voice. "Didn’t he
say who she was?”
“He couldn’t telL He couldn't
see her face.”
“A woman!" Margaret repeated
monotonously. "Wouldn’t it be
strange if it turned out that a wom-
an murdered Ace Blaikie!”
Luncheon was ready when I re-
turned. Sarah Darbe had rung the
bell for Sylvia who, in her accus-
tomed swift biddability, had come
Put on My Hat and Strolled
Down the Steps Into the Garden.
trotting up the path on the very
wake of its echoes. Hopestill was
j striding up and down my living-
■ room.
"I'm glad you took a walk, Aunt
Mary,” he approved. “And now
you must get out of the house as
often as you can.”
"I’ll promise to do that,” I
agreed. “And what have you been
doing, Hopestill?”
"Oh—tennis, swimming,” he an-
swered, adding a little evasively,
"a lot of things. Caro Prentiss is
a swell kid, isn't she?”
"Yes. I like her better than any
other young girl who’s come to
Satuit. She has a quality.”
"And what a fa cel" Hopestill
added. "Figure — personality-
charm—she's got everything. And
such vitality and strength!”
"I’m glad you’re enjoying her so
much," I commented.
After luncheon the telephone
ra:.g. "It's Mrs. Thelford, Mrs.
Avery." Sarah Darbe informed me.
I had nover likod Brenda Thel-
ford—Aces cousin. But I Knew that
of course I must call upon her. 1
felt a little mortified that she was
asking help of me bctoic I volun-
teered it. "How do you do, Mrs.
Thelford," I begun. "I feel fright-
fully to think that you have had to
telephone me. I had every inten-
tion of calling you as soon as I
came back to normal. I've just
crawled to the point where I could
take a little walk this morning."
"Quite!” came Brenda Thelford’s
frigid, correct voice. "I perfectly
understand. I wonder you are not
a raving maniac. And of course
I've been very busy myself.”
"It must be a dreadful business
for you," I murmured.
"It is. Fortunately with so many
deaths in my own family, I've had
some experience in this sort of
thing. But I've called you up. Mrs.
Avery, to ask a great favor of you.
It wasn't until yesterday afternoon
that it occurred to Sam Chess that
we ought to notify Bruce Hexson of
Ace's death. I told Sam to call
him up on the telephone. He tried
to get him at intervals all day.
Then we gave it up. Sam felt that
he knew what had happened. Bruce
Hexson often takes his two servants
—I've forgotten their names-
"Adah and Berry," I informed
her.
"Yes. He often takes them up
the river to Ace's island camp for
the week-end. There's no telephone
there. Sam thought they’d come
back this morning. They did. but
not until fifteen minutes ago.
Somebody’s got to break the news
of Ace's death to Bruce Hexson.
I'll be up to my ears in work, get-
ting ready for the funeral. I can-
not very well spare the time to
drive over to the camp and I sim-
ply cannot bring myself to tell him
over the telephone. I wondered if
you-”
My heart sank. "Of course I
will, Mrs. Thelford,” I answered.
“I’ll go at once."
"Oh thank you, thank you.” she
answered, the stress of a great re-
lief in her voice.
I had said yes quickly enough,
for there was nothing else to do.
But the moment I put the receiv-
er back, cowardice enveloped me.
It seemed a task too terrific for
my over-wrought nerves. I said
nothing to Hopestill about my er-
rand to Bruce Hexson; for I knew
if I told him where I was going,
he would insist on accompanying
me. And for Bruce Hexson's sake,
I did not want any onlookers at
the scene. What I did say was,
"Hopestill, I think I’ll take a little
drive alone. I think it will do me
good.”
"I think It will be good medi-
cine, Aunt Mary,” he, to my great
relief, approved.
I was glad that the road to camp
did not go through the village. I
did not feel like seeing people. At
the cross-roads. ! turned to the left
and followed Bradford street.
A few cars, carrying friends,
passed; a few pedestrians were
sauntering along the earth side-
walks. Familiar faces—swift as
were the nods and glances we gave
one another—showed me, more
definitely than anything yet, what 4
pall lay over the town.
I was glad when the road, pull-
ing away from the town, pulling
away from the houses, pulling
away even from the wine-glass
elms which guarded it, became
more and more rustic, more and
more solitary.
After a few miles of this, I turned
into a road, little more than a lane,
which wound in a humpy, rutty
curve off to the left and toward the
ocean. It ended presently in a
cleared space. I stopped the car.
Ace’s camp lay fully revealed as
I crossed the expanse of shorn
meadow which surrounded it.
Ace had always known In-
stinctively what beauty was. He
had hired a pair of Maine guides
to make the two-story log cabin—
log-house, I should call it—which
we called the Camp. It is one of
the most beautifully constructed log
houses I have ever seen. It con-
sists of a big living-room, bedrooms
and a kitchen; an ell at one side in
which lived Adah and Berry. As 1
came around to the broad front piaz-
za, I saw that Bruce was sitting out
in front, reading his Bible.
Bruce sat at a big, broad, bare
table. He wore one of the tow-
colored smocks with the brown cor-
duroy trousers in which he always
dressed at camp. His folded arms
were resting on the table and over
them his absorbed eyes were read-
ing from his big, worn, brown calf-
covered Bible. That Bible accom-
panied Bruce wherever he went.
Once I took it up and examined
it; it had I think the most beauti-
ful print I had ever seen. I stopped
for an instant watching Bruce. As
though there was something hyp-
notic in my gaze, suddenly he lifted
his eyes from the book, turned
them In my direction. I shall al-
ways remember what a pang went
through me when his gaze, encom-
passing me, grew soft with affec-
tion.
Well, Mary," he exclaimed, ris-
ing, "how glad I am to see youl”
My heart began to flutter. I did
not like the job before me. "What
have you been reading, Bruce?”
I asked.
"The Psalms. They are my com-
fort always. Let me read youl"
Thereupon he read the Twenty-
third Psalm.
Of course 1 know the Twenty-
third Psalm. I know it by heart.
I have read it numberless times. I
had heard it read numberless
times. But that day, sitling on the
little rough porch of Ace's log cab-
in and looking off at the tranquil
sea, 1 really heard It for the first
time because it was the first time
I ever saw it.
Bruce's voice always deep—what
with emphasis and stress—grows
sonorous when it touches Holy Writ.
Somehow with that roll of the in-
coming waves below ns a steady
underlying accompaniment, the
Biblical words seemed to take on a
stupendous impressiveness. Per-
haps all words are "mpty vessels;
we fill them with whatever essence
we have of mind, of heart, of soul.
Bruce filled the words of the Twen-
ty-third Psalm until they brimmed. . . .____,____u
He closed the book. "It's too j Stance, ,at °?e„of 0Ur 1“nch'
early for tea, Mary. Can Adah eons, the following types
bring you a cool drink—a temper- were observed:
M
'JhJmhd aboiit
Q ANTA MONICA, CALIF.—
O Out here the new Authors’
club is functioning nicely and
abounds in surprises. For in
ance drink," he reminded me.
I was not conscious of being
thirsty but I had a cowardly de-
sire to put off the fatal moment.
"Yes.” 1 answered. "I’d like
some of your delicious root beer."
Bruce reached up toward the roof
of the piazza, tugged at a hanging
rope. Inside somewhere a bell
Vt
M .
rUJ
L
An Armenian, he being the only
Armenian I ever met that didn't try
to sell me a rug.
A visitor from Aberdeen who not
only bought for him-
self but wanted to
buy copiously for
others.
A native writer
who declined to talk
about his own
works.
A British writer in
the same admirable
fix.
I A radio comedian
jWho did not discuss
his nationally im- ,rv|n Cobb
portant feud with
jsome other radio comedian—prob-
Lots of Variety in
Crocheted Edgings
Pattern 1300
Wonderfully dainty edgings, the',’'
laciest of borders, can roll off
your crochet hook if you have pat-
tern 1300. You can crochet an in-
expensive bit of dress-up for col-
lar and cuff set, lingerie, hankies,
towels, sheets, cases and napkins
The top edging simulates tattii
but is easier and quicker to
Even a beginner will find this pt
tern simple to follow. Pattern 13(
contains detailed directions
making the edgings shown; illus-
trations of them and of all stitcfu&
used; material requirements.
Send 15 cents in stamps or coins
(coins preferred) for this pattern
ts
ace
bet*
lane
*n s _
’•tov-'-’V
ably saving that stuff for his regular . |0 gewjng Circle, Needlecraft
broadcasts. Dept., 82 Eighth Ave., New York,
A house committee chairman who --
neither bragged nor apologized.
If we can only maintain this av-
erage, the Authors' club will be-
come the most unusual organization
on earth.
"Made in Japan.”
Dept., 82 Eighth Ave.,
N. Y.
Write plainly pattern number,
your name and address.
Moral Courage
Moral courage is more worth
each place, and on mine I found, in
very small print, “Made in Japan.”
| And it is officially stated that at
'least three out of four of the totem
| poles sold to tourists in Alaska
as authentic relics of the aborigines
come also from the orient.
If, as and when we get to heaven,
I wonder how many of the angels
we’re going to find running around
wearing the label, "Made in Ja-
pan?”
• • •
Collegiate Cosmeticians.
’T'HE students’ newspaper of the
a University of Wisconsin has made
a scientific study of the subject and
announces that the average coed
(female type) uses enough lipstick
in one year to paint four barns. That
sounds like an exaggeration, or may
hale be mouths are running longer and
bams are runn'-” smaller. But the
barns do look better for being
painted.
• • •
Movie Family Parties.
IfONTHS after a moving picture
'My dear friend,” he abjured me 'iVl studio has changed hands or
gently, "tell me!” undergone an upheaval—such earth-
'Bruce—oh dear, dear Bruce, quakes being quite frequent —
it’s Ace. Ace is dead. It is more the new bosses sometimes are still
A HIGHLY patriotic function there having than physical, not only be-
A was a tiny American flag at cause it is a higher virtue, but
lIKfc
aigls',
de
>d
V
)
•as
is
s
m
because the demand for it is mors
constant.—Charles Buxton.
“How Glad I Am to See Yon!”
rang. Presently Adah appeared.
Bruce gave his order. Adah van-
ished and reappeared with a foam-
ing Wedgewood pitcher. Moving
with her noiseless speed, she filled
a glass for me and one for Bruce.
Presently Bruce put his glass
down. He looked at me a
questioningly I thought.
"Bruce," I said, in a trembling
voice, "I’ve come with tad news.
I’ve got something dreadful and
something heartbreakingly sad to
tell you.
SOREM
MADE HER
ACHE
ALL OVER
Feels Hie a
Why suffer with muscular pains of rheumatism,
neuralgia, lumbago, or chest cold? Thouw*nda-
say Hamlins Wizard Oil brings quick .elief to-
aching legs, arms, chest, neck, back. Just nib it
on—rub it in. Makes the skin glow with warmth
—muscles feel soothed—relief comes quick.
Pleasant odor. Will not stain clothes. At all
druggists. *
HAMLINS
WIZARD OIL
For MUSCULAR ACHES anti PAINS
Due to RHEUMATISM NEURALGIA
LUMBAGO CHEST COLDS
Soften Up!
Being hard-boiled on all
awful than that. He was murdered, finding, tucked snugly away in the gions is one of the attainments of
He was murdered the night of Mat- payroll, relatives by blood or mar- a duu man_
tie Stow’s masquerade. He wore a rja(!e 0f the ousted bosses. To you, j
costume of a Roman soldier and he reader, a new production may be |
was found dead, stabbed to death 'either an epic or a flop, but out >
by hi* own short sword, in my
Spinney.”
I could not look at Bruce Hexson.
I closed my eyes for an instant
For that interval, there was com-
plete silence. Then a strange sound
pulled my eyelids up. I hope I
never hear that sound again. I
hope I never see that sight again.
Bruce Hexson had turned to the
table, had dropped his head on
his folded arms, was sobbing—
the great hoarse, racking sobs of
uncontrolled male agony.
TUESDAY
here it's often just a pleasant family :
party, extending even unto the third
generation.
In other words, Hollywood has
added a new line to the old spiritual,
as follows:
“All Gawd's chillen got kinfolks!”
• • e
An Anitl-War Prescription
TF SENATOR HIRAM JOHNSON |
A of California hud never done any |
other statesmanlike thing—and he's
done many a one during his long
service in Washington—this country
would owe him a debt of gratitude
for that act which he put through
congress providing that America
can lend no more moneys to any
foreign government still in default
for sums previously borrowed from
us.
Can any sane man doubt that cer-
tain European powers, now heav-
ily in debt to us, would not be at
I slept a little that night. I got
up at the regular hour, ate my
breakfast with Hopestill and Sylvia.
Soon after breakfast, Hopestill left
for his morning game of tennis with
Caro Prentiss.
With that sixth sense we all pos-
sess and which, in that strange in- , ......
terval of my life, seemed to have one an°th,e” ,hro?‘s ,f‘hey w,eTre
doubled on itself, I became aware i assucred °f fi,'anclal backing by Un-
presently of sounds from the Spin- cIe Sam for the'r fighting. In other
ney. Presently Sarah Darbe came , words' thoy d ‘°ve to enJ°y anJot,h"
into the room. I said, "There's 'vorld war s°long as Jhey dldn‘
somebody in the Spinney, Sarah, i havue,to Pay forL Bu once, ln
Who do you suppose it is?” ! awhlle' even • born sucker takes
"It’s Mr. Hopestill and Miss ! tb*: °!!.Sm
Prentiss, Mrs. Avery,” Sarah an-
swered. "They're there all the
time. I suppose they're still hunt
ing for clues.”
"How's Bessie?” I asked Sarah.
"I don't think sho slept very well
last night, Mrs. Avery.”
"I’ll go out and see her now,” I
said decisively.
Beware Coughs
from common colds
That Hang 0b -
No matter how many medicines
you have tried for your cough, chest
cold or bronchial irritation, you can
get relief now with Creomulslon.
Serious trouble may be brewing and
you cannot afford to take a chance
with anything less than Creomul-
slon, which goes right to the seat
of the trouble to aid nature to
soothe and heal the Inflamed mem-
branes as the germ-laden phlegm
is loosened and expelled.
Even If other remedies hava
failed, don’t be discouraged, your
druggist Is authorized to guarantee
Creomulslon and to refund your
money If you are not satisfied with,
results from the very first bottle-
Get Creomulslon right now. (AdvJ>
i
I
A Reflection
Scowl at the world and it will
scowl at you.
Johnson to write the prescription.
IRVIN S. COBB.
Copyright.—WNU Service.
Teacher’s Treat
As schools all over the world
break upon St. Thomas' day, it
is a great occasion for children. In
Denmark it is customary to allow
. ... i children to do almost as they like,
Bessie ^was busy with breakfast and near Antwerp they rise early,
run to school, and lock the master
dishes. Shocking as had her ap'
pearance seemed to me the day
before, it was doubly shocking to-
day. Had that gray, ironed face
ever shown a sparkle, a dimple, a
smile? "Bessie,” I began at once,
"you look tired to death.” And
then as though Sarah had said
nothing to me, "Do you sleep
well?”
"Not so very veil, Mrs. Avery,”
Bessie answered.
"It’s the shock, Bessie," I ex-
plained it to her. “I feel better but
X am by no means myself yet. So
don't be surprised that you are so
broken.”
(TO DE CONTINUED)
Japan's Artists One-Sided
Japanese are skilled in the paint-
ing of insects and flowers and bam-
boo stems swaying in the breeze,
but they have never succeeded in
putting on canvas "the human
form divine," nor in the painting
of grand historical scenes.
out till he promises to treat them.
In other parts of Belgium, parents,
servants, and schoolmasters are
locked out, the teacher being
chaired to the nearest inn where
he is forced to pay for cakes and
punch. In Germany, St. Thomas’
day is a great day for forecasting
the future. Thousands of young wom-
en visit astrologers, palmists, and
clairvoyants, to learn what the com-
ing year has in store. In West-
phalia they eat and drink to capac-
ity as a sign that they hope to
escape scarcity within the next
twelve months.—Tit-Bits Magazine.
Named the Spectrum
Sir Isaac Newton observed that a
beam of sunlight coming through a
shutter into a darkened room and
passing through a glass prism pro-
duced an unbroken band of colors.
In 1666 he called this a spectrum.
Miss
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HEADACHE
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a&uaJy dtiichred.
Idopu,
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AFTER YOU
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rid of waste material th:
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wafer equals 4 teaspod
magnesia. 20c, 35c & fr
THE LOW-TRICE FIELl
or ice in years! \
model
nent, buys any
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Mrs. J. W. Dismukes and Sons. Palacios Beacon (Palacios, Tex.), Vol. 30, No. 2, Ed. 1 Thursday, January 14, 1937, newspaper, January 14, 1937; Palacios, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth726628/m1/3/: accessed June 20, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Palacios Library.