The Lampasas Daily Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 31, No. 161, Ed. 1 Tuesday, September 11, 1934 Page: 3 of 4
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V:
THE LAMPASAS LEADER
Howe About:
Protection for All
Destroyed Illusions
Coal Oil Johnny
©, Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
By ED HOWE
T AM a man of peace, but, when the
-*■ provocation is sufficient, believe in
a fight; even in shooting.
Robberies of banks have become so
common that in many towns alarm
systems have been installed to sum-
mon, on occasion, citizens with arms
in their hands. I am cheered frequent-
ly of late by hearing of bank robbers
being shot down in the streets.
It is not for the greatest good of the
greatest number that an armed loafer,
yith murder in his heart, should de-
mand money belonging to industrious
•citizens. The majority of men do not
approve of such methods, therefore are
not only within their rights in stopping
such outlawry, but are to be highly
commended. An occasional man lying
■dead in the street, if discovered in vi-
olence, is as fipe an exhibition of mor-
ality as assisting the unfortunate.
I believe congress has violently q^-
saulted the rights of conservative citi-
zens who represent Lhe majority. Our
country, our homes, our places of busi-
ness, are as clearly entitled to protec-
tion as banks. Measures sufficiently
vigorous to be effective should be re-
.sorted to in protecting them.
* * *
A writer in a Baltimore paper says
the trouble with Americans now is,
they are suffering from the destruction
of their old illusion of superiority and
infallibility. Having been blown com-
pletely out of our serene confidence
that one of us could lick thirty-seven
Frenchmen, it was inevitable that we
should begin to doubt that we can lick
any Frenchman at all. We have been
suddenly and frightfully convinced
that we are no better than so many
foreigners, whereas, for a hundred
years, we have been assuring our-
selves that foreigners are low and
feeble fellows. What wonder, then,
that we have fallen far into the
•dumps?
Americans were originally in posses-
sion of a virgin continent, which they
■exploited with unprecedented speed,
and making many mistakes on the
way. The resulthnt colossal wealth
naturally gave us the impression that
•our business acumen was prodigious.
Everything conspired to maintain us
an the opinion that the American Is
in all respects the most potent man
who walks the earth.
Then came the crash of matter and
the wreck of worlds in 1929. Sudden-
ly it was revealed to us that some of
the most awe-inspiring figures in the
American business world were in re-
ality appalling chumps; that many po-
litical demigods really knew no more
about statecraft than the average bar-
ber does about geometry, and that
there is, with possible exceptions that
may be counted on the fingers of one
hand, not a really competent interna-
tional banker in Wall Street. The
■country swarms with smart young
t salesmen, but the wise old heads in
] the business world are few in number,
^and far, indeed, from being in control.
•Naturally, our first reaction was a
'Stunned bewilderment that swiftly
passed into paralyzing fear, and every-
body bawling absurdly for help.
* * *
No figure in history has impressed
ime more than a man called Coal Oil
Johnny. He was a fool fellow living
In average American fashion in Penn-
sylvania. Oil was found on a piece
of wornout land he had fallen heir
to. Taxes had not been paid in years,
but the final limit had not been
reached, and redemption was possible.
The oil discovery made Johnny rich,
and he at once moved to New York,
where he became the most reckless
spender the world had up to that time
known. Because of his unexampled
folly, he became one of the world’s
most famous men.
One morning he awToke to find him-
self stripped, forsaken and forgotten,
except that we say now he was the
greatest fool in all history.
I don’t know about that. Have not
many millions been equally foolish all
over the world in the past dozen years?
The men who loaned billions abroad in
the first years of the war: was even
Coal Oil Johnny equally reckless or
foolish? Look at the appropriations
of congress in the past dozen years:
were the financial operations of Coal
Oil Johnny worse?
Instead of noble monuments to Wil-
son, Harding, Hoover, Borah, Norris,
Brookhart, or the La Follette boy, I
think there should be erected monu-
ments of a disheveled, dissipated, care-
less man, and labeled: “A Typical
American: Hon. Coal Oil Johnny, of
Pennsylvania. Remember what a fool
he was, and try to be wiser.”
* * *
I have long observed that when I
have behaved reasonably well yester-
day, it is easier to behave reasonably
well today. If I neglect to perform
a natural duty today, it is doubly trou-
blesome tomorrow.
t- * #
In the long contest between poor
and rich men, the rich call fewest hard
names. Whoever heard the rich speak
ill of the poor? Yet the rich might
throw rocks, if they desired; the poor
actually have many bad habits. . . .
When we argue we speak grandly of
the principle of the thing we fight about,
and seem to have decided the under
dog has the most principle on his side.
. . . The rich are great cowards.
As a poor man I have accused many
rich men of strutting offensively when
actually they were sneaki^" r- -■
life too humbly.
EBONY WATERS
— By—
Anna McClure Sholl
Copyright by W. G. Chapman
WNU Service
CHAPTER IX—Continued
—24—
“You talk as if the establishment
down there wouldn’t set anybody spy-
ing." The psychologist in him was up-
permost now. obliterating even his
sense of danger in the effort to track
down the curious states of mihd of
Gordon Haskell and his confederate.
"And when I find an old ChristriTas tree
in its stand carefully preserved be-
hind a locked door, I know that fear is
back of its being there. You were
afraid to burn it! Somebody might
be looking on, and you were afraid
they would see in your face that this
tree is ‘a horrible tree—a tree of
death.’ Oh, a murderer is always see-
ing trifles as huge signposts. The uni-
verse is one great eye, and the eye is
on him. You bring it down with its
flag on—because you don’t dare not to
notice it when Jerry Is with you. If
you’re careless toward that tree—if
you leave it up here, its very look will
tell some passer-by there’s something
wrong with it.”
Balder grunted. “You know a lot—
you do!”
"Yes—i know that undiscovered
murderers can poison the very air
about them. The infection of small-
pox would be light in comparison. Peo-
ple weren’t afraid of those figures.
They were afraid off what they stood
for—horror and a strange, hidden kill-
ing, and a wrecking of all the joy and
Innocence of life.”
“Ya-ah! You’ve talked too much!
You’ll never talk again!” He rose
slowly; then, with a spring like a jun-
gle beast, he leaped for his prey. Wil-
ton had already calculated that he had
but one chance for life—to face his
foe, never taking his eyes from him,
and, when he sprang, to dodge him
with the hundredth chance of him-
self hurling Balder into the whirlpool.
As the huge creature jumped, Wilton
dodged. Balder had over-calculated
the width of the ledge and landed on
its extreme ice-covered edges. He
slipped, and for a fraction of time per-
formed a strange, wild piroutte, his long
arms like the huge wings of a sawmill
in motion. Then, with a shriek that
echoed and re-echoed between the
black walls of the gorge, he plunged
into the whirl. His great body was
swung around and around like a cork
for a moment, then disappeared.
Shouts at the same moment .•everber-
ated above the roar of the fall,
“Wilton! Wilton!”
Wilton had suddenly sunk down on
the rock, feeling faint, not really sure
that Balder had been gulped down the
black, icy throat of the whirl. He
turned his head and saw Arthur and
Jerry hurrying up.
“Thank God, we’re not too late.”
“Too late!” he pointed to the whirl.
"He’s gone—there’s no getting him out
of there now!”
“You don’t want him out, do you?”
“He sprang at me—he meant—to
throw me in.”
“That’s plain enough. We saw it
all! We came up like mad—nearly
fell in ourselves once.”
“How on earth did you Hack me up
here?”
“You dropped this,” he held out the
note. “I missed you by five minutes.
This bit of paper was lying near the
gate. Looked to me like Berenice’s
handwriting—and I couldn’t help but
read it. I went in and asked Jerry
if you had gone to the whirl, because
it seemed strange to me! Berenice is
sick in bed witli a cold.”
“ ‘The whirl!’ I says,” broke in
Jerry. “ ‘No man in his senses would
go up that ravine in dead of winter—
It’s known to be dangerous.’ ”
“ ‘A man in love might,’ I told Jerry,
but as it happens Miss Bracebridge
couldn’t keep this appointment, if it’s
a genuine one.”
“I knowed it wasn’t when I read the
bit of paper. It had a queer, fishy look
to me. I says to your friend, ‘Miss
Berenice never wrote this note.’ ”
“Who did, then?” Wilton broke in.
“I asked that same question,” said
Arthur. “Jerry wanted to know if I
had seen Balder anywhere, and then
we both agre'ed that, whoever wrote
the note, only Balder could keep an ap-
pointment at the whirl. Haskell has
never been up the ravine since the
Bracebridge children were drowned
there, Jerry tells me. We decided at
once to come to the mouth of the gorge
and look for footprints. We both felt
that if Balder had decoyed you up
there with a fake note, it was for
nothing short of murder. We found
the prints at once—Raider’s huge foot-
steps, and the smaller ones we knew
were yours. Then we hurried like
mad.”
Wilton grasped their hands. “God
bless you! I made him know 1 knew
—that he had killed the Bracebridge
children!”
His two companions gasped.
“There’s his weapon! He never
denied the charge. There’s his
weapon!” He pointed to the tree.
Jerry and Arthur gazed in horror at it.
“I always knew somethin’ was
wrong,” Jerry muttered.
“He struck me first with the base—
against the shoulder; but I slipped on
the ice and the blow glanced off.
You can picture him when all the
foliage was on these trees, darting out
against those innocents with all his
great strength to shove them over!
vyell—he has paid. The man—back of
Salder—hasn’t paid.”
Jerry took a step toward Arthur.
His kindly face was stern and solemn.
“Is his name—Gordon Haskell?”
“Who else—unless Balder lied? He
told me."
“Come straight back to the farm,”
Jerry commanded, cutting him short.
“We’ve got to talk. And we can’t talk
against this fall. No use lookin’
there,” he added as Wilton glanced
fearfully down at the whirl. “They
never come up under twelve or eight-
een hours—he can swing around and
around until mornin’. I’m the sheriff
of this lonesome county, and the cor-
oner of this ueglected township, and
I’ll take down your deposition by a
hot fire. . . . Balder," he added sol-
emnly, “You jumped too far and too
fast.’’
It was twilight when they reached
the farm. Jerry made some steaming
coffee, and over a red-hot stove, Wil-
ton told the whole story from his first
suspicions of Haskell to the conversa-
tion with Balder above the whirl.
“Now," he concluded, “is there the
slightest chance of bringing this man
to justice?”
Jerry, rocking in his chair, the big
gray cat on his lap, pondered the ques-
tion. “No, there ain’t!” he answered
at last. “Not the ghost of a shadow.
First place, he’s probably—just what
Balder says—an evader. He was an-
gry with those children; lie wanted
power, money.”
“Great Caesar!" Wilton ejaculated
suddenly. “Arthur, do you remember
what I told you about the diary; and
the sums of money stolen—and Doctor
Bracebridge suspecting Balder?”
“Why, yes—”
“Suppose it was not Balder after all
—Haskell was the doctor’s secretary,
had constant access to the desk in the
library, where money had to be kept
for the servants’ pay and other ex-
penses.”
‘What’s this—what’s this about a
diary?” Jerry asked.
Wilton related what Berenice had
requested him to do, and of his read-
mg®
//
IfpK
! t wm
He Plunged Into the Whirl.
ing of her father’s journal. “And the
thief was never found,” he added.
Jerry was looking from one to the
other in astonishment. “Things come
risin’ up in my memory—things I’d
clean forgot; I heard about them rob-
beries at the time. I remember now—
an incident just before the accident—
murder, we’ll call it.”
“And what was this incident?” Ar-
thur asked.
“I was down with a load of apples
to the academy. Little Norman was
in the kitchen, and I remember sayin*
to him, ‘Caught the thief yet?’ He an-
swered up right bright and smart,
‘I caught him red-handed this mornin’.
We’ll have fun with him now. We’re
goin’ to keep him on the rack a bit,
before we tell!’ Then he laughed and
ran off. I says to the servant, ‘Is it
true Norman’s caught the thief?’ She
laughed and said she guessed Norman
was stringin’ me. Haskell was passin’
the kitchen entrance, and I says to
him ‘Norman says he caught the thief
red-handed.’ I remember he gave me
an awful stare. ‘He’s a little liar,’ he
says, his face queer and white. The
girl she looked after him and laughed.
‘He hates ’em. He’d like to kill ’em—
all four of ’em!”’
A profound silence followed this
reminiscence—then Wilton spoke. “Do
you think he—did this awful crime be-
cause he was afraid, saw his finish
when Norman found him—if he did
find him—with his hand on the money
till? Even so, the child might have
been very much mistaken as to the
meaning of the Incident. Doctor Brace-
bridge probably sent Haskell as his
secretary many times to unlock the
money drawer in the desk. We can’t
say_ certainly that Haskell was the
thief and had four cliildx-en killed to
protect himself.”
“No more than we can prove," Ar-
thur interposed, “that Balder com-
mitted the murder at the Instigation
of Haskell—and not for his own ter-
rible satisfaction.”
TO BE CONTINUED.
Fireles* Cooker* Not New
Pits which had been used as fire-
less cookers some 25,0(X) years ago by
the inhabitants of what is now Ari-
zona were uncovered by an expedition
from the University of Arizona. They
were five feet deep and the same In
diameter. Evidently a fire was built
in the bottom of the pit and after It
died down hot rocks were placed on
the bottom. A layer of greens came
next followed by the food to he cooked
with a final layer of greens for 9
covering.
z&eufd
Witt
ROGERS
BEVERLY HILLS—Well all I know
Is just what I read In the papers, or
what I see as I jump from Craig to
Craig. Was getting
all ready to make
Si
the big hop around
the world. Now to
get ready for that
would take me just
about as long as it
would most people
to get ready to
drive to town Sat-
urday afternoon
and stay for the
picture show that
night. I got one lit-
the old soft fiat red
grip, or bag, that if I just tell it when
I am leaving it will pack itself. A few
old white shirts with the collars at-
tached, and a little batch of underwear,
and sox, now all these you can replen-
ish at any store anywhere, (I know fer
I have done it) and then throw the old
ones away. You dont figure on laundry
at all. And its cheaper, for when you
start paying excess on these aero-
planes, brother, till then you havent
seen any excess. So me and my little
red bag and typewriter, one extra suit
In It. Its always packed the same, no
matter if its to New York or to Singa-
pore.
But this time it was different, there
wras women folk3 along. Ma was going
along and she said I couldent be troop-
ing along with her unless I looked the
part. So with all the fussing, and buy-
ing and packing, the Rogers Ranch was
in a mess for days and days, tromping
on dress makers, cutters and fitters.
Then the boys were both away, and
she felt that she had to dress them by
remote control to get them ready. We
got a felloSv named Emil. He has got
some other name but you cant pro-
nounce it. Emil is all I know. Well he
kinder runs the Rogers household. He
is of that capable tribe called the
Swiss. They can speak anything, and
can do anything.
Well it seems that there was con-
cocted a scheme before we all em-
barked on this present enterprise, that
the master “Ha Ha” meaning me,
should be diked out as never before.
They started dragging in palin beach
suits to fit onto me when I should have
been up roping calves. They dragged
me in from the polo field where I would
be working a green horse to try some
white shoes on me. Well they might
just as well put em on the horse, he
would have felt more comfortable. And
then the new baggage commence ar-
riving. Now we are a race of people
that have lived in grips and trunks all
our lives, but it seems the old baggage
was kinder rusty, and that Honolulu
and Japan would turn up Its nose if the
Rogers come in with old soiled port-
mantous.
Now these palm beach suits. I dont
care how hot it gets in these so called
tropics around Honolulu, we ought to
have sent those suits to our friends
back in Arkansaw and Oklahoma, there
is your tropics for you this summer, or
in fact any part of the old U. S. (I dont
want to get in wrong with any particu-
lar part of the Country; its better to get
In wrong with all of it). Then besides
a palm beach suit is not supposed to
fit, if it does. Its uncomfortable. Ma
Rogers argued that she hadent been
anywhere in so long, that she just was
plum out of clothes. (Any of you boys
ever heard that talk before?) She had
just shortly before returned from New
York, but she just dident call that any-
where, and she had been to Honolulu
two summers ago, so she had to get
something light enough for Honolulu
and something else a shade heavier
for Japan.
Well I have never been to Japan in
the summer time, but summer time
anywhere is not a lot of difference,
only San Francisco at night. Then it
snows. So of all the fitting and a trying
on, stores have a habit now, if you have
been keeping your bills pretty well
paid up, they will just send you: out a
few arm loads of plunder, then you pick
over It, and you are allowed to return
80%. Of course if there is a party or
picnic or barbecue in the meantime,
you can use for that, just so you dont
soil the price mark.
Well I was trying to pick out my 20%
so the store could salvage the rest,
timil had an old fashioned idea, (its an
old Swiss idea)
that you must have
one dozen of every-
thing. The last
time I had a dozen
of anything was
when they packed
me off to Kemper
Military Academy
at Boonville Mo. in
9G. And my educa-
tion d i d e n t last
long enough to
wear them out.
Well he would pack
in the daytime and I would come in and
unpack at nights. At one packing he
had a bath robe in there. Well that was
the last straw. You only wear them
when you are getting well from an op-
eration. And thats where this one had
come from. Well anyhow we got off,
and if we had had some horses with us,
I would know we was taking away
more than we was leaving.
The first aeroplane trip we make I
am just going to let her pay the excess
baggage. That will cure her.
© 19S4. M aught Syndicate. Inc.
Ar.-Ky.cjj
EMILY’S
LIZARD
By R. H. WILKINSON
©. Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
f RS. EMILY METCALF is a
I 4/1 ^shy sort of Person.
jL V JL She also coos very well.
Last month I met her on
Tremo*it street.
I s*y '’‘met." Perhaps I should say
“ambvished."
Having observed her when some dis-
tance away-1 shamelessly stepped into
a doorway to avoid meeting her.
Unfortunately the door was locked,
and whereas I suddenly became in-
tensely interested in the vague print-
ing on its soiled glass, I was trapped.
Mrs. Metcalf espied me.
I should have known better than to
attempt escaping her.
“How do you do! My dear, it’s ages
—ages since I’ve seen you. You’ve
grown thinner? I do think you have.
And younger looking. Much. .
Such a becoming tie! . . . Now, if
I were a bit younger . . . But
there, what would your wife say if
she heard me talking like this . .
That’s how she Is.
Always trying to say the right
thing; nearly always failing.
She’s one of those persons who ex-
cite your wonder.
You wonder if she’s serious, you
wonder if about everything she says
Isn’t superficial.
She pretends to be well read, to have
broad intelligence about any matter
that might be under discussion.
She has social aspirations.
She caters to people who have fam-
ily backing, wealth or social promi-
nence.
* * *
Three days after my chance meeting
with Mrs. Metcalf I met her again, at
a party held by some mutual friends.
The party was given in honor of one/
Miguel Rosalia de Villareal. Miguel,
I learned, was a descendant of Span-
ish nobility, a cousin of a one-time
president of Mexico, a son of a
wealthy Mexican rancher.
In fact, Miguel was quite a guy. He
was tall and. .dark and slender and in-
telligent looking.
It wasn’t surprising to find, upon be-
ing introduced to Miguel, that Mrs.
Emily Metcalf had already had that
honor and that she had claimed him
for the evening. (Mrs. Metcalf, it
must be explained, is a widow of five
years standing.)
But it was genuinely surprising
when toward the end of the evening
I discovered that Miguel had not suc-
ceeded in ridding himself of the gushy
Emily. *
In fact, he seemed quite attentive
to her, quite pleased with her com-
pany.
This was puzzling, as the Mex
looked to me like a pretty bright chap.
* * *
Miguel remained in Newton for a
period of two months. And during
that time he was a frequent caller at
the home of Mrs. Emily Metcalf. But
newer again did he appear with her in
public. /
For a time the thing was a mystery,
for Miguel was honored during his
brief visit to our city at dozens of pub-
lic functions, and still more private
affairs.
Yet, somehow, Mrs. Metcalf was
never included in the private affairs
and seemed unaware of the public
events until after they were over.
The mystery remained a mystery uie
til the very day of Miguel’s departure.
And then it was explained only to my
satisfaction.
However, I will set down here the
happenings as they occurred up to the
date of Miguel’s departure.
On the day following that first party
ist which Mrs. Metcalf had been pre-
sented to the descendant of Spanish
nobility, Migtiei was seen t^ approach
the door of- Mrs. Metcalf’s home.. He
was admitted by the lady herself.
Five njinutes later he departed.
* * *
Ten minutes after that, Mrs. Met-
calf scurried across the street to Mrs.
Hodgson’s house, her face fairly beam-
ing with excitement.
“Whatever do you suppose has hap-
pened? Imagine!”
Mrs. Hodgson compressed her lips.
“I can’t guess. What?”
“Miguel, tiie dear boy, has given me
a present!”
“A present? What kind of a pres-
ent?”
“A lizard!”
Mrs. Hodgson blinked her eyes.
“A lizard!”
Emily nodded.
“Isn’t it just too thrilling? He says
It’s a very rare lizard which he
brought up from Mexico. He says if I
take good care of it, it will do strange
things.”
Two days later Miguel again called
on Mrs. Metcalf, and after his depar-
ture the widow flew across the street
to Mrs. Hodgson’s.
“Imagine what has happened! Just
Imagine J”
“I can’t,” said Mrs. Hodgson.
“What?”
“It’s the lizard. l-Ie’s twice as big
as he was yesterday. Think of It!
Twice as big in a day’s time 1”
Mrs. Hodgson was as perplexed as
the rest of us about this lizard busi-
ness. but she reported faithfully all
that happened.
Miguel called on Mrs. Metcalf on an
average of once every two days.
Twice she saw him approach the
Imase after dark when Mrs. Metcalf
was away, hence we were reasonably
sure that none of his visits were pre-
arranged.
* * •
And each day Mrs. Metcalf came
across the street to report the tre-
mendous strides in the growth of her
lizard.
Twice Mrs. Hodgson went over to
look at the strange beast.
On the last occasion she. fled in mor-
tal terror. For the lizard had grown,
in two weeks’ time, into a full-sized
crocodile, and was chained up in a
pen in Mrs. Metcalf’s cellar,
Mrs. Metcalf’s delight was some-
thing to wonder at.
“And to think,” she’d say, “only two
weeks ago he was a little bit off a fel-
low that you could hold in the palm of
your hand.”
It was all very puzzling.
We didn’t know whether the woman
had gone insane or not.
But facts were facts. There was a
lizard. Mrs. Hodgson had seen it.
And Miguel didn’t deny that he was
the donor. But, on the other hand, liz-
ards don’t grow into man-eating croco-
diles La two weeks’ time.
We agreed it was a very rare spe-
cies.
Suddenly a change came over Mrs.
Metcalf.
For more than a week Mrs. Hodgson
saw nothing of her, although Miguel
was seen making his usual calls at the
liouse.
After two more days had passed,
Mrs. Hodgson decided to run over and
see if things were all right. It was,
I am inclined to believe, curiosity as
much as concern, that prompted the
act.
Mrs. Hodgson found Emily in a state
of utter despair. There were deep rings
under her eyes, a haggard look about
her face. Questioned, she replied it
was the lizard. Mrs. Hodgson was
aghast.
“The lizard? What’s happened to
the lizard?”
“He’s growing smaller. Every day
he reduces in size, quite as fast as
he increased.”
* * *
Mrs. Hodgson became alarmed. She
wondered whether or not it were best
to summon a doctor.
But upon being shown the lizard she
was forced to agree that its size had
shrunk. It was no longer a crocodile
In fact, it was nothing more than a
fair-sized lizard.
Thereafter Mrs. Hodgson made daily
trips across the street. And each day
she reported that the lizard was grow-
ing smaller and smaller.
It was truly a remarkable thing.
It was alarming, too, because with
each passing day Emily became mor8
haggard looking. She had lost her
gushy and cooing ways. She grew
morose and taciturn.
And then, one day Mrs. Hodgson
came over and discovered Emily on
the floor in a dead faint. Quite con-
cerned with the widow’s plight, Mrs.
Hodgson did what she could and at
last revived the victim.
Immediately upon regaining con-
sciousness, Emily burst into a fit of
weeping.
After considerable questioning she
announced that the lizard had become
so small as to be scarcely discernible,
and then had vanished altogether.
She admitted, also, that Miguel was
angry and had said he would not come
to see her any more.
* * *
Miguel remained in town two weeks
longer. He had become tremendously
popular and was discovered to be quite
a fun-loving and social sort of person.
On the last day of his stay I dropped
in at bis apartment to say fareweii
and was surprised to find the place
filled with a number of boxes in sizes
varying from one an inch square to an-
other ten feet high. Miguel was in-
dustriously pounding slats over the top
tff Aba largest.
He grinned at me and winked.
“I’ve been so darned busy it’s just
now I’ve found time t?o send these
things back.”
“What things?” I asked.
He beckoned to me and I looked in
one of the boxes. At sight of a great
crocodile reposing inside I drew away
in some aland.
Miguel and I stared at each other
for some time. Fi^ly he said:
“Down in Mexico we go to great ex-
tents to have our fun.”
He grinned, and I extended my hand.
“Friend,” I said, “come visit us again.”
Jiu-Jitsu Rough Sport
The jiu-jitsu bout of Japan is the
roughest two-man sport. All kinds of
fouls are permitted and broken necks
and ankles, dislocated hips and shoul-
ders and torn tendons are not uncom-
mon. When a combatant is in a pain-
ful grip and about to receive a dis-
abling injury, he is supposed to give
in and end the round. Rather than
face this humiliation, however, he
sometimes allows himself to be pun-
ished to the point of insensibility.—
Collier’s Weekly.
A Well of Grease
For a number of years a freak oil
well near Lamar, Okla., has produced
grease at an average rate of 350 bar-
rels daily. It is thought to be the only
well of its kind in the world and has
made its owner a fortune. The well is
3,170 feet deep. All other wells drilled
in the neighborhood have turned out to
be “dusters." When it reaches the
surface the grease is a dark green,
but turns to a brilliant golden yellow
when struck by outside air.
Cause of Rain and Snow
All the rain and snow that falls Is
present in the atmosphere because the
heat of the sun, plus the lower heat
of the earth, causes water to evaporate
and turn from its liquid form into
water vapor. Anything which lowers
the temperature cuts down this rate of
evaporation. Thus in winter the mois-
ture content of the air is generally less
than in the summer as measured by
the humidity.
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The Lampasas Daily Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 31, No. 161, Ed. 1 Tuesday, September 11, 1934, newspaper, September 11, 1934; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth897916/m1/3/: accessed July 10, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Lampasas Public Library.