Indian chieftain. [volume] (Vinita, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1882-1902, 1885-08-27
a PopuLAR suPERsrITIoN.
The Happy AericuiturIsts Of tho Lone
star state.

The Happy Aericuiturists OF tho Lone
star state.
A popular superstition has prevailed
In all agos, to the effect that the typical
farmer harvests more solid Joy and hap
pness TO tho acre than any other class
Of agriculturists who toll in tho Lords
moral vineyard.
After mature deliberation wo have
come to the conclusion that the average
Texas farmer, at least. suffers as much
from the canker-worm of care as does
the man who "rastles his hash" in the
busy haunis of men.
Some years ago, while engaged as .
local reporter on the San Antonio Sugie,
we knew hardy agriculturist who
TILED the soil on tho Rosillo Creek about
ten miles from the Alamo city, the
Thermopylae of Texas. His name was
Macbeth Simmons
He did not come to town often, but
when he did the black pail OF gloom
settled down on the place worse than il
did the day after the fall Of the Alamo.
He came to town on an old ilea-bitten
gray mare, so thin aud gaunt, AMI
suggestive of an impending famine. that
at the sight OF Simmons on that pale
horse, the people whooped up all the
grain In the country. expecting a rise.
whats tho matter, Macbeth; has
anybody died out ON tho Rosillo. and
asked you TO come to town to order n
sarcophagus?' we asked.
There is nobody dead yot, but we
Nigh; rs well be. We are going to have
a late frost, and then it will DO Good bye
John to the crops"
perhaps wo will not have any lato
| frost at all. "
MAY be not. II we don't have no
late frost the eggs OF the grasshoppors
will hatch out and cat up tho crops.
anyhow. There's no silver lining to
the cloud. We poor farmer, don't work
for ourselves nohow. Wo toll and
sweat, and sweat and toll. for the grass
hoppers and tho San Antonio mer.
chants. u we manage to keep them
| grumb!n Texas is no farming coun.
try nohow. "
"Cheer up old man, you will raise
the biggest kind Of n corn crop this
year, i you don't stop it growing with
/ your ulScOuTagin9 talk.
Suppose we do raise big corn crop
what's the use anyhow" he ex.
claimed, Indignantly; ''if we raise big
crop the price will go down to forty
cents bushel, and then It won't pay
TO haul il to town. l reckon I'll raise
enough TO keep the weevils busy all
winter. II do that reckon ought
to be happy" and after he had mopped
his moist eye with his elbow, he stirred
up his crow-ba't and started for his
ranch on the Rosillo.
We did not have the pleasure Of see
ing Macbeth Simmons again for some
time. In spite of all his groaning and
signing, the clouds let their garnered
fullness down, and the crops were
simply immense.
Once more Macbeth turned up with
his old pale horse hitched to a wagon.
He had sold his cotton at a good figure,
and CARED bag of money in his
hand, but he did not look as happy and
contented as he did the last time we
saw him.
"Got the toothache, Macbeth" we
asked, pleasantly.
''No," he replied, surlily.
You probably haven't got any use
for teeth this year You haven't got
anything to bite. No corn, no water.
melons, no ro:hing." we remarked
ironically.
"Yes, we have got something to kea =
our teeth goin' now. We are all gwint
ter be down with chills We won't
do nothn' this fall with our teeth except
to chatter and gnash 'em. 1t will take
every cent OF money I've got to ge
quinine That's the way it is whenever
it rains enough to make crops" anC
with a sort ofa ''we-are-all-poor-worms
o'-the-dust" expression, he climbed NJ
into his wagon, which was loaded do l
with canned goods, demijohns, smok
ing tobacco, etc, and moved slowly ou
of town.
OF course all Texas farmers are moi
like Macbeth Simmons, but that the
average farmer in any part OF the Uni
ted Statcs is happier than the lawyer
the merchant, or even the overworkeC
journalist, or the tired banker, we very
much dOubt.-Ieras SVtings.