The watchman and southron. [volume] (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, 1922-05-27
A FABLE.
The Fable of the Georgia Cracker
Who. Had a Wise Guy For a

The Fable of the Georgia Cracker
Who. Had a Wise Guy For a
Son.
Old Boil Weevil vas a Wicked Old
Soul,
He feared neither storm nor fog.
He called in his folks and they fed
upon the boil,
And put the cotton farmer on
the hog.
Cotton had been King on the old
Jackson Plantation in Georgia for
so many years that Hiram Jack
son, its owner, had come to believe
it and to think there was no other
crop worth the dignif1ed efforts of
the Southern planter. In the old
days. before the price Of necessi-
ties had sprouted wings and boil
weevil with his horde of hungry
willies had appeared to gyp the
cotton planter out of the fruits of
his labor, it was possible to get
away with this king stuff success
fully, but since bolts arrival the
kingiy ermine had become so
frayed and moth-eaten that it
would have made no hit at ever a
third rate fashion show, and the
Jackson e%Xchcquer was in a chronic
stage of inocuos desuetude. He
was hep to the symptoms Of the
approaching financial blow, up, but
he hoped against hope that by
some means he could beat the
execution r " to the post and
save the old home from the Phil
istines.
He had just received a notice
from the f1inty hearted village
banker, that his notes, against
which he had bet his cotton crop.
were approaching maturity, and it
would take many guilders to ap-
pease this modern shylock, who
was fed, up on alibis and would be
satisfied with nothing but the real
jack. He summoned all the intes-
final investiture he possessed
which was considerable-and bold
~ walked into the temple of fin
ance to tell old Shy that he was
passing through a period of tenn
porary financial embarrassment
and to let his notes ride awhile
until returns from his cotton came
in, when he would liquidate in full,
which is a way of saying he was
broke today, but would pay to-
morrow. Alrs we'll that ends we'll.
but in this case the ending was not
as Hi had anticipated. When the
money changer had fguratively re-
moved his heel from His neck, he
felt the morning after a night out
with home brew. No sir! Mr..
Jackson must come across when
the paper was due, was the ulti-
matum handed out by this guar
dian of public wealth and he might
as well have beaned Hi with a
blackjack.
It looked like a Knockout as
with cotton selling at Is cents that
had cost Hi 80, the identity of the
goat was apparent. Now Hi was
not a crepe hanger but as he
| stared the situation in the face lie
had to admit to himself that he
twas sure in dutch with not even
a crap-shooter's chance Of beating
the game. BY making successful
touches here and there among a
long list OF friends, he managed
20 assemble coin enough to square
his I. O. Us with old Shs and
then went into joint session with
himself to devise ways and means
to avoid a repetition of this pain
full experience and at the same
time lay by a few extra berries
against a time of we weather.
Now Hi possessed a young son,
Robert. who was living in the
Twentieth Century and recognized
the fact that the world do move.
! Though but II years cid, Robert
had plainly seen the handwriting
on the wall and knew that in fra
| cas- with boil weevil, the best the
cotton farmer could expect was the
worst of it, unless he changed his
, ways. He had taken a keen in
! terest in the pig club work in his
county and had spent much time
trying to convince a doubling dad
that their only hope for the flu
ture was to raise pure bred hogs,
and diversified crops. His argu-
ments, backed up by an honest be-
lief in what he said, convinc-
ing enough to have sold red fan
mel union suits to the devil, and
when he came home from the
county fair with a pig he had rails
! ed, decorated as for Madri Gras
parade with prize ribbons, the old
man was sold. He threw down his
hand, and admitted that once he
was blind but now he could see
and the fool killer changed hands
with his club and passed on to
the next farm where he had
singled out a hard boiled cracker
who still believed cotton was king
and refused to listen to the Cos
pei Of pure bred hogs and diversi-
fed crops.
The next few months e + busy
ones on the Jackson plantation.
The entire herd Of razorbacks
which had boarded with the fam
lily for many years was sacrificed,
including the speed king OF the
bunch. This baby was all to the
mustard and neither Barney Old
field or Tommy Milton had any
thing on him. He sported a fly
brush tail and a chassis that would