Text Illustrations
like the farmer who was sitting on the front porch of his shack one July day smoking his corncob pipe when a stranger came long who asked, “How’s your cotton coming?”

“Ain’t got none,” was the answer. “Didn’t plant none. ‘Fraid of the boll weevil.”

“Well, how’s your corn?” asked the stranger.

“Didn’t plant none. ‘Fraid of droughth.”

“How about your potatoes?”

“Ain’t got none. ‘Scairt of tater bugs.”

The stranger finally asked, “Well, what did you plant?”

“Nothin’,” replied the farmer. “I just played it safe.”