Palacios Beacon (Palacios, Tex.), Vol. 30, No. 39, Ed. 1 Thursday, October 7, 1937 Page: 3 of 10
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October 7, 1937
PALACIOS BEACON, PALACIOS, TEXAS
Page 3
HouseMd ©
© Quesfm
Cleaning Enameled Sinks. —
Those stubborn dark streaks
which accumulate on enameled
links and bathtubs can be re-
moved with kerosene.
• • *
Potatoes for Short Cakes.—Hot,
boiled and mashed white potatoes
are good in making short cakes
and puddings. They not only save
flour, but require less shortening.
• • •
When Peeling Small Onions.—
Cover small onions with ho twa-
ter and let stand for a minute or
two and the skins are easily re-
moved.
• • »
Dry Soiled Clothes. — When
clothes are sent to the laundry
they are usually paid for by
weight. Money con be saved if
the housewife makes certain all
articles are dry before they are
sent out.
* # •
Johnny Cake.—One cup yellow
corn meal, one cup bread flour,
one-third cup sugar, one and one-
half cups sour milk, half teaspoon
soda, half teaspoon baking pow-
der, one teaspoon salt. Mix and
sift the dry ingredients twice, and
gradually add the sour milk. Beat
well, and bake in a shallow
greased pan, in a moderate oven.
• • •
Removing Scorch Marks. —
Scorch marks can be removed
from linen by boiling together the
juice of an onion, one ounce ful-
lers’ earth, one-quarter ounce
shredded soap, and one teacupful
vinegar. Allow the paste to dry
on, then brush off and wash in the
usual way.
WNU Service.
IM FEELING
FINE THIS
MORNING
-FREE FROM
THAT THROBBING-
HEADACHE
AND READY FOR
A GOOD DAY’S
WORK. ,
All people who suffer occasionally
from headaches ought to know
this way to quick relief.
At the first sign of such pain,
take two Bayer Aspirin tablets
with a half glass of water. Some-
times if the pain is more severe, a
second dose is necessary later, ac-
cording to directions.
If headaches keep coming back
we advise you to see your own
physician. He will look for the
cause in order to correct it.
The price now is only 15^ for
twelve tablets or two full dozen
for 25 cents — virtually, only a
cent apiece.
Warren Lovett, thirty-three. Junior
partner In the powerful Wellington.
Parkcs & Lovett, Incorporated Mines of
Chicago, which engages in questionable
transactions, plans to make a secret
coup in the Canadian Arctic, where a
few years before a rich but inaccessible
mining field has been discovered on Res-
urrection river, which flows into Dyna-
mite Bay. Patricia, high spirited and
beautiful daughter of crusty old Jasper
Wellington, who Is engaged to Warren,
decides to accompany him. They go by
plane. Pat meets “Poleon," a French-
Canadian prospector, who tells her there
ore only 300 prospectors In the field and
that because of the difficulties, they are
hanging on by a thread. Pat is disturbed
when Warren will not disclose what his
secret mission is. She meets Sam Honey-
well, a friend of Polcon's. Moved by the
plight of Bill Fornier, a prospector who,
though fatally ill, struggles to hold his
claim, Pat decides to help him. Informed
by Lupe Chiwaughiml. half-breed retain-
er of the company, about Pat's befriend-
ing the prospectors. Warren tries to dis-
suade her. He tells her that Craig Tarl-
ton, with whom she had once been in
love, is now deputy mining inspector for
the Resurrection river area. A brilliant
geologist, he had resigned in disgust
from her father's company because of
its devious methods Later she meets
Craig, but he is cold, inferring that she
is merely feigning interest in the pros-
pectors. Her compassion for the hapless
prospectors growing, Pat decides to build
a huge community house or Den. When
the job nears completion, Warren tells
her to abandon it. She refuses after a
stormy scene. Craig leaves on a three-
month inspection trip to the north. Pat
learns that her father has withdrawn her
allowance. Warren refuses to advance
her a loan to aid the prospectors She
moves her tent across the river near the
Den. She learns now of Warren's plan.
He hopes to starve the prospectors out
and make them sell their claims for a
song. Pat tells the prospectors of War-
ren's plan. Still attentive to Pat, Warren
wages a subtle campaign to get the
claims. Just before Christmas. Craig
returns suddenly and Pat is overjoyed
at his changed attitude. He brings her
a present of furs and apologizes for his
former suspicions. Concluding that she
cannot ever marry Warren, Pat returns
her engagement ring. He reveals that
Craig Tarlton is already married. War-
ren warns Craig to stay away from Pat,
saying he knows about his previous mar-
riage. Later Pat is thrilled when Craig
tells her he will join her in the fight
against Warren. Craig sends a party
north to search for a rich claim that Phil
Kessler, a green prospector, had located
and lost the year before. Craig surprises
Lupe Chiwaughimi in his cabin and finds
he has stolen some notes from Pat. Craig
confides in Pat about his unfortunate
marriage to Rosalie, tells her how it was
broken up, how he had given her every-
thing he had and erroneously supposed
she had gotten a divorce.
“Was it part of your agreement
that she would get a divorce?”
"Yes. I don’t know why she
didn't, unless from plain inertia.
Just as soon as this fight eases up
enough so that I can spare the time
and money, I intend to get the di-
vorce myself. There’s no question
that I can ultimately get the de-
cree. If I didn’t know this positive-
ly I wouldn’t say so.”
He seemed to believe that Rosalie
was out of the picture and would
cause no trouble; but Patricia was
worried. In the eyes of the law
Rosalie was still Rosalie Tarlton.
Warren, the lawyer, was looking at
this situation from a legal view-
point, whereas Craig was seeing
in a common-sense and human way
If (here was any legal technicality
b. which Craig’s marriage could be
used as a weapon against him, War-
ren would seize the chance.
With a shock of misgiving she re-
called that Warren was flying out
to the city country in a day or two.
He had told her so, just that morn-
ing. She wondered what business
was taking him south. Was there
any connection between his trip and
this Rosalie situation?
virtually A cent a tablet
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ONCE TOO OFTEN
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are all on edge—don't toko it out
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know how you feel for the Dimple
reason that ho is a man.
A three-quarter wifo may bo
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month.
For three generations one woman
has told another how to go “smil-
ing through” with Lydia E. Pink-
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thus lessoning the discomforts from
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women must endure in tho threo
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Don’t be a three-quarter wife,
take LYDIA E. PINKHAM’S
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’S
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Wright, Pill Oo„ 100 Gold Street, N. T. City
CHAPTER IX—Continued
—~10—~
"For want of any better aim. I
set out to pile up money for my-
self, there at Vancouver. I made
plenty, in short order—that zinc-
separation process. From having
money it was an easy step to begin
throwing it, and I did that, too. I
hooked up with a fast-moneyed
crowd and moved faster than they
did. Then I met Rosalie. She was
a beautiful creature, with an intoxi-
cating appeal to the senses; and she
fitted perfectly into my frame of
mind. It didn’t matter that she was
engaged to a rather close friend of
mine—I cut in, took her away from
him, married her.
"Well, that epicurean phase
couldn’t last and didn’t last. It was
a hothouse life, and I was born to
the granite and cold waters of On-
tario. The relationship between
Rosalie and myself was merely an
infatuation, with nothing fine or en-
during about it; and it burned out.
"The end came when I discovered
that Rosalie had renewed her
friendship with this former fiance
and was jneeting him frequently,
i She and I Jjjid a talk. Because she
demanded it and because I was
sick of my whole apostasy, I turned
over to her everything I had. I
realize now that I could have be-
stowed that money more worthily,
but at the time I didn’t care about
anything except to cut clean and get'
free of it all.
“When I left Vancouver I had
one dollar in my pocket, and I
threw that into the river. I worked
my way north to Fort Smith, se-
cured this job at Dynamite Bay,
and I've been here ever since . . .”
His story left Patricia immensely
relieved, for she had been imagin-
ing all sorts of things about those
two dark years. She could under-
stand the revulsion which had led
Craig to throw everything over-
board and seek seclusion in the
lonely North; and she understood,
also, why the cold harsh purity of
the Arctic had appealed to him so
powerfully.
She asked presently "Where is
Rosalie, Craig?”
"Living in Europe, the last I
heard.”
"Warren intimated to me that
she’s back in Vancouver. Has she
ever written you or expressed any
desire to live with you again?”
Craig laughed ironically. “D'you
think she’d have any interest in a
man who’s making eighteen hun-
dred a year?”
It was after midnight when she
and Craig got back to camp. At
the door of her cabin they stopped,
awkward and uncertain, with that
painful throbbing silence between
them. In the last half hour nei-
ther had spoken once.
"Won't you come in, Craig?” she
invited. "We haven’t spared time
for a cup of tea in the last week.”
"I’d like to, if you don't think
it’s too late, dear."
Patricia trembled at that word
"dear." It was the first token of af-
fection that had escaped Craig's
lips. Maybe he'd been holding back
because of his marriage, not know-
ing definitely how she would react
to it.
“I'm not tired at all,” she lied.
“And I'd like—I want to give you
those three books I borrowed.”
Craig stood their snowshoes by
the door and stepped inside with
her.
Except for the Aurora glow beat-
ing against the north window, the
cabin was entirely dark. Patricia
groped across to her dresser and
fumbled for matches, to light a can-
dle. She was ashamed of herself
for urging Craig to come in. Why
didn't he say something, do some-
thing? There was no longer any
reason for his holding back. Surely
she had made it plain to him, out
yonder on the rocky islet, that she
considered his marriage dead and
meaningless.
She heard him lean his rifle
against a chair and start over to-
ward her.
“Treeshia!”
His strange tone made her whirl
around. No wavering uncertainty in
that tone! It was like a summoning
call.
"Yes—here,” she stammered, her
heart thumping wildly. Craig had
interpreted her reaction right. When
he stepped into her cabin all his
hesitancy had fallen away from
him.
He came up to her. In the dark
his hand touched her shoulder. Pa-
tricia wanted to flee, to escape, but
she could not move. Before she
could stop him Craig took her into
his arms, with an overpowering in-
sistence that swept her off her feet.
“Treeshia—girl—till tonight, till I
told you about Rosalie, and you said
it didn’t matter . . . And I held
of! because I didn’t want to force
my love on you or influence you in
any way. It didn't seem right—”
“Craig! Don't!” She fought
against him, tried to free herself.
All her aching dreams of the past
half year were springing into actu-
ality as she felt Craig's arms
around her; God’s lake and all its
haunting sweetness were being res-
urrected, after six years. "Craig!
You — we — mustn’t! Craig!"—she
turned her face away—“don’t!”
He brushed back her parka-hood,
kissed her hair. "Treeshia, sweet”
—as he sought her lips—"please
don’t turn away like that. Say you
do care—a little, girl.”
Her hand crept up to the black
ripples of his hair. “Oh, I do care—
dearest . . .”
Sleepless that night, Warren Lov-
ett had read till nearly two o’clock,
in a blanketed chair near the stove.
As he finally laid his book aside and
stood up, stiff and eye-weary, a
knock came at his door.
"Who is it?” ho asked, surprised
to find anybody else awake.
"Lupe Chiwaughimi. I wan’ to
see you.”
"Put it off. I’m going to bed.”
Instead of obeying, the metis
came in and confronted him.
"What’s the trouble?” Warren de-
manded.
Lupe gestured across Resurrec-
tion. "Dose two go walking ag’ln
tonight. Long walk."
"Well, whut’s new about that?"
Warren snapped irritubly. Patricia
had been the cause of his sleepless-
ness, and he had been trying to stop
thinking about her. "Tarlton hns
taken her walking every night for
two weeks, hasn’t he?"
"But dlt night, it different. W’en
dey get back, he go into her cabane
wit’ her and stay dere whole hour.”
Wurren stiffened. "Yes—?”
"I gn ’round behind cabane, crawl
op on snow-dreeft,” the metis went
on, in cold clipped words. "I look
down over top of window curtain,
watch w’nt dey do. For a w’ile at
first de cabane dark. Den, w’en
dey light candle on dresser, Tarl-
ton got her In hees arms. Blmeby
dey fix tea. After long tarn he
leave for hees cabane."
The vivid words of the half-breed
aroused a storm of Jealousy in War-
ren. Patricia, in Craig Tarlton’s
arms—the hateful picture of it float-
ed in front of his eyes. Hitherto
he had clung to the hope that Patri-
cia would come to her senses and
see how utterly Incompatible Tarl-
ton was with the main tenor of her
life. But now she had yielded. Now
there was an open avowal between
them.
Lupe demanded: "W’y don’ you
put her in plane and sen’ her back
to Cheecago? W’y don’ you pry her
away from dat feller?"
’How the devil can I force her
to do anything? I tried once to
make her go back home, and you
know what happened. We got
pitched across the river. I haven't
any power over her.”
"Aw-right, den,” Lupe stated. "I
been wait-wait-wait for you to do
somet’ing, and you do nut’ing. Now
1 wait no more. I’ll stop dat feller
myself. Some of dese night, w’en
you hear beeg b-o-o-m op dat hol-
low, you'll know I’ve stop heem—
plenty.”
” ’Big boom’—what d’you mean?”
”1 mean dat box of dynamite in
hees cabane," Lupe said cold-blood-
edly. "Some night w'en he alone
op dere, I’ll put a rifle bullet into
dat dynamite."
Warren was frightened by the
threat. Remembering the case of
dynamite near Tarlton's work ta-
ble, he realized how easily Lupe
It? I’ve been working out • plan of
my own to stop Tarlton. It's safe
and it's certain. Day after tomor-
row I'm leaving for the south, to
take the final steps against him.
Wait till I get back—one week, two
weeks at the most."
"Two week!" Lupe grunted. "In !
dnt tarn lots can happen, over dere.
Mebbe I hold off. Dat depen’s on |
Tarlton."
He turned toward the door.
liAAliiAlAAAAAtAiAAAAAAA
WHO’S NEWS
THIS WEEK...
By Lemuel F. Parton
rTTTTTfTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
CHAPTER X
“Beeg News! Allons!”
could send a bullet sizzling into it.
By crooking a trigger finger the
metis could blow Tarlton to atoms
and scatter that cabin all over the
hollow.
He knew Lupe too well to think
that the half-breed was bluffing; and
he understood the half-breed’s mo-
tive. Lupe considered himself the
wilderness guardian of Patricia,
who had been in his charge on sev-
eral of her Ontario trips; and he
intended to protect her now, ac-
cording to his code. For more than
a generation he, and the other Chi-
waughimis, had been personal
guides and retainers to old Jasper
Wellington on the latter's visits to
the Canadian mining frontier. The
financier hjd taken care of them
and their families, had been liege
lord to their clan, through all those
years. To him and to his family
they were intensely loyal, however
warped and dark-minded their loy-
alty might be.
Now Lupe saw old Jasper’s
daughter in love with a man who
was a bitter enemy of the Welling-
tons, who had no more money or
social rank than a common pros-
pector, and who, worst of all, was
married. It was In his code to
"guard” her, even if he had to kill.
"You get that dynamite idea out
of your head!” Warren commanded.
"I’m boss of this party. You’ll
obey me or I’ll ship you south in
a plane tomorrow morning! ”
Lupe regarded him stonily. "If
I queet my job, I be free man-
no? I stay here long tam as I lak
and do w’at I lak—no?”
Warren saw that orders were fu-
tile. They glanced off the metis
without fazing him. Lupe took or-
ders from only one person on earth
—Jasper Wellington.
He tried another tack. "But it’d
be murder, man, plain murdsrj
You’d never get by with that. C6P.
poral Northup knows you're shad-
owing Tarlton. He’d know you^
killed him. He’d nail you, and you'd
be hanged."
Lupe shrugged his shoulders,
“Mebbe so, mebbe no.”
Thoroughly scared, Warren tried
a last argument. “See here, Lupe—
d’you think I've sat back with my
hands folded and watched this go
on without doing something about
For two weeks after Warren left
for the south, Craig waited impa-
tiently, day after day, for Poleon
and his party to return from the
Wolf-Lair range.
They were long overdue. The
days were precious; time was slip-
ping; th. sun was swiftly coming
back; the spring license fees would
be payable shortly; and in the com-
munity house the gloom was thick-
ening again.
Just as he was on the verge of
sending a second party after Po-
leon's, they came dragging in to Dy-
namite Bay one evening in the
midst of a raging woolly-whipper.
Back in the Wolf Lairs their ex-
plorations had been slowed down
by storms and sixty-below weather;
but they had stuck with the job till
they had carried out Craig’s instruc-
tions to the last letter.
They brought back with them a
sheaf of crude field charts, a great
mass of scrawly notes and measure-
ments, and two heavy komatik
loads of ore fragments, carefully
numbered and recorded.
Within an hour Craig was hard at
work on this new batch of material.
Allowing only Poleon in his cabin,
to cook meals and attend to the
stove, he buried himself oblivion-
deep in this last phase of his re-
search.
Four mornings later Patricia was
awakened, just at gray dawn, by a
tremendous thumping on her door.
“Mees Pat”—it was Poleon's ex- ,
cited voice—"wake op! Immeedit-
ly! Beeg news! Allons!"
Patricia sat up hastily in bed.
“Why—uh"—she rubbecj at her
sleepy eyes—"what news?"
"I don’ say nut'ing. You jus' j
hurry op queeck and dress. I wait
for you.”
Patricia sprang out of bed. slid
into her clothes. “Craig has fin-
ished!” she thought, and her heart
pounded with uncertainty over the
outcome.
She flung open the door. Poleon
stood there in the morning dusk.
He tried to appear blankly inscruta-
ble, but his face was one huge
grin, and he looked ready to burst
wide open with his “beeg news.”
“Oh, it’s good, it’s good!" Patri- i
cia exclaimed. In her ecstasy she
hugged Poleon. "Let's go, let's hur-
ry!”
“Allons!”
They ran up the hollow to Craig's
cabin.
Honeywell and Kessler, routed out
of the Den by Poleon, were already
there. The cabin smelled of pipe
smoke, chemicals; and the candles
threw flickering shadows over the
tense faces of the men.
With a dead pipe in his hand
Craig was sitting on the dynamite
box, leaning his head back against
the wall. He was unshaven, his
hair tousled, his eyes weary from
days anti nights of swift exacting
work; but he was grinning happily.
He got up when Patricia came in.
"Sorry to’ve waked you, Treeshia,
but you simply had to be in on this.
You folks come over here where you
can see this chart, and I’ll explain.”
Patricia moved over to the work
table and looked at Craig’s big ge-
ology plot of the Wolf Lairs. The
symbols on it were so strange that
she understood little about the
chart; but she did notice that a
wavy purple band led diagonally
down across the map, and that up
in the northwest corner was a little
flock of bright-yellow arrows.
Craig pointed with the stem of
his pipe. He tried to speak matter-
of-factly—a scientist explaining—
but Patricia caught the hidden ela-
tion in his voice.
“Thi? purple band represents the
gneiss formation. These concentric
rings up here arc a hill. We'll call
it Kessler hill. It's the worn-down
stub of an old pre-Cambrian moun-
tain. The gold ore outcrops at more
than a dozen places around the hill,
the places indicated by these yellow
darts. The 16 samples that I tested
all assay about the same, roughly
$200 to the ton. Without question a
sheet o' this ore truncates that
whole elevation. The lode therefore
is not a pocket but an extensive de-
posit.”
"Now,” Craig went on, "here’s
our program. Tomorrow morning
we four men are leaving for Kessler
hill. We’ll stake the deposit; I’ll
give it a brief survey myself to esti-
mate tonnage; and we'll be back
here In six days. Poleon, you get
things ready for our trip. Sam, you
and Phil play checkers today and
say nothing. It'll be plenty time
to spring our news after we've got
that lode sewed up tight.”
When the men had gone, Patri-
cia went up to Craig, stood tiptoe
for his hug and kiss. Craig reached
into his pocket and brought out a
wireless message which he had been
' arrying around with him for ten
■s.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
f
XJEW YORK.—Jack Doyle, the
’ Irish crooner and heavyweight
boxer, sometimes known as the
"mild Irish rose," said the other
day he had quit fighting. But now |
word comes from San Francisco
that the mauling minstrel wants to
get back in the ring and that he
has signed Harry Brodie of San
Francisco as manager. However,
his fiancee, Mrs. Dclphine Dodge
Cromwell Baker Godde, Insists that
he stick to his singing. Fighting,
she says, is too brutal. Mrs. Godde
is a daughter of the late Horace E.
Dodge, automobile maker, and an
heiress of the Dodge fortune.
Doilies Offer Thrifty
Way to Set Table
A perfectly appointed table is
the dream of every woman's
heart. With the simplest of cro-
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come true. This set of doilies, in
four sizes, docs the trick. There
are a 6, 12 and 17-inch size suit-
able for luncheon and buffet sets
as well as doilies while the larg-
At fourteen, Jack Doyle was heav-
ing a 15-pound shovel on the eoal
docks at Queens-
He’s Called town. At fifteen,
'Handsomest’ he was sailing be-
n •». . • tore the mast on a
Pugilist! Fjnnish vcsse, At
sixteen, he was in the Irish guards,
doubling in the characteristically
Celtic pastimes of singing and fight-
ing.
He is six feet four and one-half
inches tall and weighs 217 pounds.
With his wavy black hair and still ,
unmarred features, he is rated as
the handsomest fighter in the busi- Pattern 1462
ness. He once smacked down ten .
big bruisers all at once—but that es^> a 22-inch doily, is just the
was in Hollywood, when he was try- thing for in-between cloth on
ing out for the screen, two years many a table. Use string or mer-
ago. He didn’t screen well and cerized cotton they 11 stand long
picked up his fighting again, dump- usage and be decorative too. Pat-
ing Buddy Baer neatly in one round, tern 1462 contains directions for
making the doilies shown; illustra-
tions of them and of all stitches
In 1930, he was champion of the
Irish guards. Last April, he gave
Kingflsh Levinsky a handsome 12-
round drubbing. As yet he hasn't
any very notorious scalps on his
belt, but he is still only twenty-four.
Judith Allen, film actress, divorced
him last April, and he awaits a final
decree before marrying Mrs. Godde,
whose divorce from Timothy Godde,
London and Paris textile exporter,
is also coming through. He has
been here two and one-half years
and writes home that he's having a
wonderful time.
This writer thought the articles
about the telepathy experiments at
Duke university were one of the
most interesting magazine serials of
recent years. Dr. J. B. Rhine, with
a large staff of assistants, made
what appeared to be the first sci-
entific laboratory examination of
thought transference. They report-
ed it a fact of everyday life. Their
finding was that minds can com-
municate over long distances. Now
it is announced that Dr. Rhine's
book, "New Frontiers of the Mind,”
will appear soon. It will cover the
Duke university experiments.
Dr. Rhine qualifies as a disinter-
ested oheerver, having vigorously
assailed fake oc-
cultism in the
past Mrs. Rhine
has been his co-
worker and col-
laborator in exploring the world be-
yond the senses. They both took
their doctor’s degrees at the Uni-
versity of Chicago, later pursuing
studies of abnormal psychology. In
1926 and 1927, they conducted in
Boston an examination of "Mar-
gery,” the famous clairvoyant. They
reported that "the whole game was
a base and brazen trickery, carried
out cleverly enough under the guise
of spirit manifestations."
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Please write your name, ad-
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you cannot afford to take a chance
with any remedy less potent than
Creomulslon, which goes right to
the seat of the trouble and aids na-
ture to soothe and heal the Inflamed
mucous membranes and to loosen
and expel the germ-laden phlegm.
Even If other remedies have failed,
don’t be discouraged, try Creomul-
slon. Your druggist is authorized to
refund your money if you are not
thoroughly satisfied with the bene-
fits obtained from the very first
bottle. Creomulslon Is one word—not
two, and it has no hyphen In It.
Ask for It plainly, see that the name
on the bottle is Creomulslon, and
you’ll get the genuine product and
the relief you want. (AdvJ
Speciality, Specialty
The words speciality, specialty
should not be confounded; speciality
is the state or quality of being spe-
cial; specialty is an employment to
which one is specially devhted, an
article in which one special^ deals,
or the like. ... . V
Commenting recently on his work
at Duke university, Dr. Rhine said:
"Our results have a bearing on
the general problem of the survival
of life after death. They show that
the mind has powers not dependent
upon the senses, an assumption that
is made under the theory that life
can exist apart from the body.”
Dr. Rhine is head of the unique
parapsychological laboratory of
Duke university. His telepathy ex-
plorations included 100,600 experi-
ments in which he recorded thought
transference over a distance of 1,000
miles. He said their validity, as
against chance, was in the ratio of
’00,000,000,000 to 1.
The Paraguay rebellion is one
more reminder that there are no
halfway stations
How toChoose0n the road to to-
a Political talitarian rule.
President Rafael
Franco, Gran Cha-
co war hero, was driven out several
weeks ago, because he wanted to
meet Bolivia half way and make
concessions in the war settlement.
Now the rebels are trying to bring
him back.
Knowledge and Experience
Knowledge, like religion, must
be experienced in order to be
known.—Whipple.
Give some thought
to the Laxative you take
Constipation Is not to be trifled
with. When you need a laxative,
you need n good one.
Black-Draught is purely vegeta-
ble, reliable. It does not upset the
stomach but acts on the lower bowel,
relieving constipation.
When you need a laxative take
purely vegetable
BLACK-DRAUGHT
A GOOD LAXATIVE
The Miser’s Want
The miser is as much in want of
what he has as of what he has not.
—Syrus.
Philosophy
When he set up his dictatorship
last October, Hitler was his model.
He invoked the "noble ideal of de-
mocracy,” but proclaimed his own
personal iron-fisted rule. He an-
nounced an extreme of both regi-
mentation and freedom. It didn't
work, but he may be president again
and have another try at it.
Old General Estigarriba chased
him out in February, 1936, calling
him a communist. By February 20,
he was back in power, chasing both
the old general and the communists.
He is now forty years old, trained in
the army, withdrawing in 1934 and
back in for the war.
© Consolidated News Features.
WNU Service.
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Mrs. J. W. Dismukes and Sons. Palacios Beacon (Palacios, Tex.), Vol. 30, No. 39, Ed. 1 Thursday, October 7, 1937, newspaper, October 7, 1937; Palacios, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth726943/m1/3/: accessed June 26, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Palacios Library.