The Durham daily globe. (Durham, N.C.) 1889-1894, 1891-08-06
A BAD LOT.

NH"hSI tACii UIedtn dI lIeuucHt lulcI-
walls; to change their politics or religion,
is not to be questioned. It is a mans
own business what he does-so long as
he harms neither society, himself nor the
world. But when men like Polk, SNIP
SON, COLONEL Mrs. LEASE and other
blatant, bowling blatherskites go about
the country sweating blood for the glory
of the common people as they express it,
it is time for sober, thoughtful people to
think a minute.
The farmers of North Carolina are de-
luded. They read and think, many of
them-but the professional politicians
who talk red fire; who tell of the great
wrongs and who howl until their lungs
are sore and follow the howl with a col
lection, why, such fellows should not be
allowed to wreck the principles of gov
eminent and SOW the seeds of discomfort.
1t happens in this state that we have
good crops; we have all things in the
earth and under the earth which the
Good Maker conceived in the grand be.
wilderment Of his c~reation-and yet here
is Polk bowling still about the wrongs.
The North Carolina farmer must pom
der we'll before he demands a law that
singles him out and makes him a ia
vored borrower of the government. The
sub treasury bill-seething with it's foul
blotches of jobbery and corruption says:
II am a farmer and must have some
money from the government at two per
cent. | will give my crop as security.
Can I get it"
The government asks: "Are you a
farmer?"
The horny-handed and horny-tongued
agitator replies: II am"
"Then," says the government, "cart
your truck down to my warehouse and I
will make you a special favorite, | will
loan you all the money you want and will
charge you less than the great CONNER
cial enterprises and great financiers will
pay for its use. Certainly, you are a
farmer, and FARMER Polk, who never
farmed, says you should be favored you
should be allowed special privileges which
others of us cannot enjoy-but bring
down your truck and we will tell the
other fellows to be damned"
The government is the people. No
more a farmer than a tailor, a printer, a
carpenter, a stone mason-simply the
people and we are all the people.
Pretty soon a merchant comes along.
He foolishly o~verstocked himself. He
has thousands of dollars lying on his
shelves. He wants to operate, get a new
stock, and he goes to the government
and says:
Il see you have warehouses-you have
a scheme to loan money at two per cent.
| desire to place a large lot of goods with
you as security and will borrow a few
thousand in order to buy my spring
stock. You will be protected as these
goods were bought low"
But" asks the government, selfish and
one-sided which POLK would give, "are
0 a farmer %
NO" says the merchant, "but | am a
citizen of this country-I am a part of
your concern-we are all the govern
ment."
But" says UNCLE SAM, "this law
does not reach any other class. 1t is a
class Legislation law-the farmers
wrought up by a crowd of demagogues
passed it, and you are not in it. You
cannot get the money. The farmers
want it their way. All other classes are
choked out.
1.-The farmer proposes to raise what he
pleases-you must pay your taxes in
order to loan him money at two per
cent, but you will be obliged to go tein-
dividuals and pay ten and twelve.
II am sorry but you are foolish. You
should all become farmers"
"But if we were all farmers" asks the
merchant and the lawyer and the printer
and the carpenter who have since come
in to hear the talk-"if we were all far
mers to whom would the farmer sell his
product ?"
And UNCLE SAM, with a twinkle in his
said to JERRY SIMPSON and Colo
MEL Polk"
But could they buy it,"
"Certainly, because they propose to
buy printing presses and print wild cat,
money and pay everybody everything
with nothing
And the merchant went off to a river
and reduced himself tO.a cold damp
body.
THE TIME IS HERE.
The time is here when the good house
wife goes into the kitchen to instruct the
dusky maiden there in the art preserva-
tive of putting up peaches, plums and
such things as make the mouth
water in the winter. This is the time of
year, we say, and man, proud man, is not
in it.
The good wife tells the dusky maiden,
uho knows NOTHING ahOut the art. how