The Port Gibson reveille. [volume] (Port Gibson, Miss.) 1890-current, 1908-11-19
BOIIs on the Boil WeeyII.

So ~ - ~~A@S~eA~ S~a~@s@@ tsA&% ~%A~@A@e
pest and the one great question is
"how are we going to live" w
have had literature enough in th
last ten years, depicting corse
quences, portraYing evils, and de
scriptive of dire results, as we'll a
estimates as to when the tnonste
would reach US, to be fully prepar
ed for his advent, yet we are no
and will never be until the tocsii
has been fully realized. The cot
ton farmer seems to be peculiar t,
himself among the classes. Hi
one idea Is King Cotton, and Meth
er principalities, nor power. no.
things above, or beneath can sepa
rate him from his feecy god. Low
ing herds, bleating lambs. greasy
Fswine, and dreamy songs of the
feathered tribes, attract him not,
Oblivious to every hope or resource
he lives, except cotton, and will
probably die its petty slave. It Is
singular indeed, to this humble
scribe how so great an evil in so
short while could fasten itself so
irrevokably to a body polite so IN
telligent as our farmers. especially
when We can view our history as a
solid record OF idol breaking. The
negro was once our idol-even un-
| til the God of Heaven enforced
His law; Thou shall have no
gods before Me- And had we
made King Cotton a truce between
abolition and slavery, it would have
been well for us, today. But we
did not. We crowned King Cotton
Lord of all and sold our birth right
for simple pottage. / might men
ton other dilemmas, whose silver
lining rested on clouds of scourge
but l will not.
I mentioned optimism and pes
simism. I am sometimes amused
in talking and reading their pro-
ductions. Some are experts and
some theorists. SAss CO RS
and some quacks, in prescribing for
the sick body polite; and some
wise enough to even plan for their
own well being-for instance. I
met a farmer, a good farmer, who
actually proposed to rent pasture
away from home for his stock, that
he might till his whole place in cot
ton. II will have one more year, =
says he "and / want to make a
humber crop" Hectic consump-
tive flush! Bright light on cloudy
morning.
A little further on I was hailed
by a good old brother In black =
ST want to talk wild you. Mr..
Bolls, " says he What is dis ere
boil weevil gwine to do for the nig-
ger? De merchants say dey aint
a gwine to furnish him, and de Ian
owners say dey can't-so how Is
it?" Pessimism personifed! could
see the pail on his dark brow. I
consoIed him that 10 one ever
starved In Claiborne unless he was
lost in the woods. I asked a rich
farmer how he was preparing for
the boil weevil-''I am fixed,
said he; as long as my land will
sustain a herd, myself, nor my
neighbors shall ever starve.
Flor Salin, the noble! I approach-
ed banker, a good man, a great
man. "What will the banks do in
the face of the boil weevil ?'' I ask
ed. The doors of this bank are
always open tn the honest toll
er, but, of course, there are some
with whom we can not do busi-
ness, I" was his reply I read an
article in the Reveille not great
willis ago that thought a few kero-
sine torches and jug GLASSES, as
night traps. would house the
whole army before daylight. Thus
opinions multiply, but the best and
most consoling of ali that I have
read, is from the pen of Fl. c.
Stringfellow In the last two issues
of the Reveille. I commend it.
Read it.
know nothing of the boil vice.
vii except by reading--have never
seen one-hence, I claim to be
neither optimist nor pessimist-butI
I want to express few possibilities
as they appear. I believe they will
do business MUCH with as. Great