Document text
JIpproxinately 5,000 words
3C A
SOUTH CAROLINA MITERS' PROJECT
LIFE HISTORY
ALWAYS AGIN IT
A 7f,..
Date of Arst Writing
Nellie of Person Interviewed
Fictitious hame
Street Address
Place
Occupation
January 24, 1939
J. Thomas Yetz
Oscar Staub
None
Chapin, South Carolina
cotton Grower
YoLe of 11.iter John L. Dove
Name of ,ieviser State Office
"At the sound of the tone signal it will be exactly eight o'clock,
Eastern Standard Time," the radio announcer's voice boomed that bright
October morning, his words came clear and sharp to all who stood and
listened on the quiet street corner near the Columbia Chamber of Com-
merce building. The announcement stirred Oscar Staub, a short, be
whiskered, tobacco -chewing farmer from Dutch Fork, into action.
Just as the mellow notes of the radio signal faded away, Staub
pounded his heavy walking cane eight times against the concrete
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pavement, and in a very harsh tone he complained to a little careworn,
gingham -clad woman: "Jane, it's now eight o'clock and that farm de-mon-
strator ain't showed up yet. I wish these GovIment agents 'ud learn to
practice what they preach and cooperate sometimes with a hard workinI
farmer like me who's cooperatins in all these sjustment schemes. They
say them 'justment checks have come, and I vent mine, too."
With the voice of one possessing great patience and long suppressed
emotion, Jane calmly answered: *Well, Oscar, you know I told you before
we left home this morning that there was no need in our coming here so
soon. I could have mashed the dishes and churned the milk before leaving.
And you could have oh, well, I never could persuade you to do anything
but work in the cotton field. You've always been in a hurry to do noth-
ing." She turned then and pointed to the lines painted in gilt letters
on the plate glass in front of her:
COUNTY AGRICULTURAL AGENT
Office Hours 8:30 to 1:00 and 2:00 to 5:00
And then she added, "It's not time for the farm agent to be it his office."
*1 repeat, Jane, there's no justice in allowin' these Govement agents
to hold up a good hard workin' farmer like no who's tryin' to cooperate.
I won't sign another dern crop 'justment agreement; for I tell you, Jane,
I'm agin it." "Ginit" Staub emphasized his complaint this time with
one pound of the heavy stick against the sidewalk. Be then placed two
rusty fingers against his tobacco stained lips and let fly a stream of
ambeer that knocked a cockroach from its perch on the rim of a garbage
can sitting some yards away.
"Good morning, Ur. Staub! I hope you are feeling fine and fit this
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morning," spoke the -polite county agent at the entrance to the building.
"how yuh," grunted tub. "I've cone for my check."
"Sorry, Er. Staub, but yours hasn't core in yet," answered the
county agent, as he walked into te building and to his office.
"Well, I'll be "Pam:" came a hollow sound that drowned
out the last word, as a piece off "Ginit's" cedar stick ricocheted off
the garbage can and out into the street.
"Stop it, Oscar," Jane barked. "You'll say and do too much
t'recley!"
"Afraid I talk too =eh, eh?"
"You did just then, Oscar Staub:"
"Ch, Yes?"
1oa, Oscar Staub, you're going to listen to me for one time in your
life," Jane snapped, as she pushed back her much worn hrvt with a jerk.
The mass of red hair on her head and the belligerent look ()L her face
lent color to the truth and scorn her tongue poured out on Oscar's de-
fenseless head: "You you've done nothing all these years we've been
married but talk and grumble! You you'd never be sensible like a real
farmer and o to hear 1Joctor Lnapp and other farm leaders tell, free of
charge, of a way to run your farm! If if you'd done that, maybe you
wouldn't now need to ask the Government to give you something for doing
absolutely nothing:" Then she adjusted her hat and walked away.
Staub, the "gin it" of Dutch ork, looked dazed and defeated. he
staggered out into the street, reached down and picked up the broken bits
of his walking cane, and returned to the sidewalk, he stood for a moment
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staring blankly down at the filthy garbage can into which he had, a few
moments before, sent a cockroach scurrying to cover. As he turned to leave,
he was heard to mumble, *I have made a mess of life. I but Jane was
right." Then he, too, walked quietly away
rerhaps there is no one better acquainted with the Staub family than
Moss Austin, an old Negro who claims to have spent his entire life on the
Staub farm. Moss stated some months ago: "Mister Oscar was bairn on Friday,
January 13, 1875, right here on dig ole fawm. A number of ginerations of he
folks live here befo' he time. Ole Marse Isaac, he daddy, sont him to de
schools ley had roun' here when Mister Oscar was a boy. Den he sont him to
Leesville for a year or mo' to 'tend de 'cademy• But Mister Oscar didn'
lak school, and he didn' lak de fawn. And when de war in thaby comes along,
he ups and jines de army, and den he gone a long time."
According to Mose Austin and others in Dutch fork who knew Mr. Staub
very well, he reamined with the Army in Cuba until the treaty of peace with
the Spanish Government was concluded in February, 1899. He was then trans—
ferred with his military outfit to the Philippine Islands, where, for a
number of years, he served under General fred Funston in quelling the Moro
insurgent uprisings in the wilds and jungles of that newly acquired territory.
He contraced a tropical fever in the rhilippines; was kept in a government
hospital at Manila until his recovery; and then, in the year 1904, he was sent
back to the states and given an honorable discharge with the rank of sergeant.
What Sergeant Staub did during the four years he remained in Ualifornia,
or in the west, has never been explained. He, however, did meet and marry
Jane Mueller in an Francisco during that time.
S
"At the beginning of 1909," explained a Dutch Fork farmer and merchant
who knew the Staub family, "Ginit and Mrs. Staub took up their residence
at his old home. His father had died the year before, and his mother had
been dead for a number of years. He was the lone heir to the ninety -six -acre
farm and the two-story, eight -room residence thereon. At that time, the
Staub farm was one of the best in the county.
"Yes," he contisfued, "When Ginit took charge of the ninety-six acres
and the old home, he had all that was required to give a three -horse farmer
a feeling of security and independence. He was only thirty-four years (4d
and in very good health. He had an industrious, intelligent, and ambitious
little wife. He had a highly productive, well terranced, and sufficiently
equipped farm. He had a comfortable home of eight large rooms, equipped
with substantial old furniture. he had the best Negro help to be found in
the community. And he had money with which to conduct his farming operations
and some to spare for luxuries. The oak and cedar shade trees; the shrubbery,
grass, and flowers; the board fences; and the orchards and vineyards were
all there just as his father had left them. He was independent, indeed.
And he demonstrated his independence during the years he lived and tried to
farm in mutch Fork."
while the immediate community surrounding the old dtaub home is known
as White Rock, yet, much of the land is red, particularly Mr. Staub's. The
soil type on his farm is known to the soil technologist as Georgeville clay.
It is of a slate rock formation, gummy and sticky in wet weather and very hard
in dry weather. And it is highly adapted to the growth of cotton and many
other crops, when under proper care and culture. It is a soil type that erodes
rapidly when under constant cultivation, unless the field terraces are properly
6
cared for.
"And one of the first things that Oscar dtaub did when he started to
farming was to plow down the terraces in his fields. He said he was agin
the use of such things on his place," said the talkative Dutch Fork grocer
with the sign BROwN MULE TOBACCO over the door to his store building.
"I knew he had been a contrary sort of fellow when he was a boy, but I thought
he'd overcome the habit in the Army.
"But in spite of the fact that Ginit, as we all called Oscar, had traveled
in a number of foreign lands and had come in contact with many people of dif-
ferent nationalities during the eleven years from home, he took up his old
habit of keeping himself aloof from the most of his acquaintances and neighbors.
I saw little of him, but I heard from him through mose and Jake Austin, his
Negro sharecroppers, who came often to my store for chewing tobacco for them-
selves and for Oscar.
"Ginit interested himself mostly with cotton growing and cotton markets.
During the fall and winter months, Mose and Jake Austin would start out early
in the morning to (dolumbia, with wagons piled high with snowy white cotton,
with good, bad, and indifferent zrades of bagging packed around it. But late
in the afternoon, Mose and Jake would return, riding high on bales of hay and
bags of corn. Ginit did plant a little corn some years, but harvested only
a few nubbins. L'otton, and more cotton,was his bread wagon." He chuckled
a moment, and inquired;
"Did you know that the story of 'The Yellow Corn and a Fool,' that has
gone the rounds for a number of years, came out of Dutch Fork and that Oscar
Staub is one of the real chnracters in that story? well, it did. It got its
beginning through an experience of a political -minded person from one of our
adjoining counties, while he was out beating the bushes for votes in his race
7.
for election to office in that county. Not knowing that he had driven
across the county line, the anxious candidate came across a farmer sweating
and grumbling and hoeing in a patch of yellow stunted corn just beyond an old
rail fence by the roadside. The following conversation took place:
"'Good morning, Sir& gy name is Smith,' spoke the polite and anxious
candidate.
"tHowdyli grunted Ginit Staub.
"Yo -yo -your corn looks kinder yellow,' remarked the candidate.
"I planted yellow corn,' Ginit's tobacco filled mouth sputtered, as he
went on hoeing among the little stunted cornstalks almost hidden away in the
tender green crab grass.
"The polite candidate, in his amazement at the rebuffs squinted at
Ginit for a moment, and then said, 'Bay, Waster, there's not much between
you and a fool, is there?'
"Only a fence,' was Ginit 's answer.
"And Oscar, Moss ,and Jake continued to grow cotton, and to buy more
and more corn, hay, and chewing tobacco each year. It was mainly through
Apse or Jake that the neighbors learned anything concerning activity on the
Staub farm. They seldom saw Ginit, but Mose and Jake came often to my store
to gossip and to wisecrack:with the checker players, whittlers, community
politicians, and others who loafed around my place. 'How's the boss today,
Mose Jake?' they'd inquire. And after the craving for Brawn Mule had been
satisfied, the two Negroes would tell of the latest happenings on the Staub
farm.
"Oscar had taken no part in community activities or politics. For a
number of years, however, there had been rumblings of discontent on the part
8
of a few ilUtch Fork citizens concerning community improvements. They felt
the county officials had neglected the community, then a part of Lexington
County, in the way of road improvement and so forth. well, we had a long
rainy spell during the fall and early winter of 1911, and the roads became
quagmires. So the political storm broke on all sides; and Oscar Staub,
'gin it like, sallied forth as one of the greatest rebels in the community.
He was highly in favor of seceding from Lexington County, and became very
active in the movement which eventually made Dutch Fork, on February 9,1912,
a part of Richland County by legislative agreement.
"It was along about this sane time that we began to hear reports of
the rapid invasion of the boll weevil in the western section of the cotton
belt. frank Lever, one of our Dutch Fork farmers, was in Congress. He'd
been studying about the weevil situation, and, politician like, he wanted to
do something for the farmers. So he got in with Senator Hoke Smith of Georgia,
and they 3ot through a law called the Smith -Lever Act, in 1914. Then the
Government sent out Dr. S. A. Knapp and other speakers to tell the cotton farmers
of the danger. But nobody but Mose and Jake Austin from the Staub farm would
go to hear Dr. Knapp. Oscar, being agin it all, stayed at home and worked in
his cotton fields- His fields, at the same time, had begun to show signs of
sheet erosion.
"During the summer of that same year, 1914, the war in Europe broke out,
and there was no market for cotton the following fall and winter, except the
buy -a -bale movement. Oscar, at the time, had a big supply of the fleecy
staple on hand. He had all of the new crop and some that was carried over
from former years. 'White folks, de barns and de woods am full of cotton, and
Mister Oscar is chawin' mo' 'bacco den he ever is chawed befo'; and us ain't
9
got a thing to buy braid wid, let 'lone sbacco, and us can't eat cotton,' is
the way old Moss Austin reported the situation on the Staub farm at my store
around Christmas time of that year.
"By the spring of 1915, the panic in the business world began to abate,
and the markets started to function again. The price for cotton and other
farm products, however, was very low. Ginit, partly through his need for
funds, but mostly through his way of acting contrary to the advice of his wife
and everybody else, sold out his big supply of cotton at a loss. He and Mose
and Jake, however, continued to plant cotton.
"The years passed. The WOrld dar came and went. Despite the pleadings
of the Nation 'FOOD WILL IN THE dAll!' they planted cotton, and cotton
alone, on the Staub farm. The crop yield, however, grew less and less with
each succeeding year. It was not because they planted less acreage in cotton,
but it was due to an exhaustion of the fertility of the soil. The fine gray
fields of Alamance silt loam, which a few years before had shown signs of sheet
erosion, had now turned to red clay and were streaked with washes. In a few
fields there were gullies which compelled the plowman to turn back when they
cultivtted the cotton. The buildings on the place had begun to leak; the door
and window shutters had begun to fall from their hinges; the board fences hung
from their moorings; and the orchards were diseased. Mrs. Staub saw to it that
the lawns, flowers, and shrubbery were kept in good condition.
'It was just after the world oar had ceased that Ginit Staub made the biggest
mistake of his life as a cotton grower. He had produced, at great expense,
quite a large supply of cotton; had held it in storage at a high cost; and had
borrowed money heavily, at a high rate of interest, with which to grow more
cotton. When the price for cotton reached twenty-five cents a pound, he wanted
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thirty; and after the price of thirty was to be had, he decided that he
wanted forty; and when the cotton market finally reached its height forty-
nine cents a pound in the summer of 1920, he ordered his broker to sell
out at fifty. One year later, June, 1921, he was sold out on the cotton
market at ten cents. He couldn't put up the margin necessary for the protec-
tion of his idol cotton."
Before the talkative Dutch Fork grocer could proceed further with his
history of Giait Staub, Mose and Jake Austin walked into his store.
"Mose, you black rascal," he said, "you are the very fellow I want to
see right now. I want you and Jake to tell me what's been going on over at
your place. I haven't heard from you in some time."
"Us need some 'bacco fus' thing, Mister Smith," answered Mose, after a
haw-haw.
When Mose had pinched off a big hunk of Brown Mule and placed it in his
mouth, he said, "Mister Oscar, he 'bout lak as usual, Icept he wor'ed 'bout
not bein' able to git all de gewano he want to use dis year." He began to
study for a moment to refresh his memory about guano and guano hauling.
Then he continued: "Jake, does you 'member de time when us had all dat cotton
and cottonseeds to haul to Columby, and all dat cawn, hay, and gewano to fotch
back, and it had rain' so much dat winter and spriig dat de roads wan't nothin'
but mud up to de axle of de waggin?"
"I sho' does, Mose," answered Jake, after he had supplied his hungry
mouth with a chew of tobacco. "And wan't de boss outdone and mad?" he added
after a loud haw-haw.
"Kack, kack, kack," Mose laughed as he added another pinch of Brawn Mille
to the quid in his mouth, and then he continued the discussion,: "Yas, suh, he
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sho' was mad. He'd cuss de road Lthor'ties for everything he could think
of, and swear he ain't go pay no mo' tax in LexinEton County, 'cept he be place
under de compeldation of de law. Dat was way back yonder 'bout 1911, befo'
de war.
"Speakin' of de war time,' he went on, "After de war gits over and de
sojers come home, hit look laic ever'thing go wrong on de place. Mister Oscar,
he had halt and halt all our cotton till de price go down to nuttins in 1921,
and then he sell. Half de time, dat year, all on de place went hongry. SO I
say one day to Jake, 'Jake, dis ain't gwine do; us'll have to plant some peas
laic dat men from 'way out yonder Doctor Kinhap, I believe dat he name egvised
de farmers to do. Miss Jane, she say she want us to plant peas. But Mister
Oscar say, 'un-uh', he don't want nothins but cotton planted on de place; dat
he in debt and hafter raise cotton to git de money to pay wid. So when dat win'
begin to blow all dam thunder clouds out de wes', long 'bout July, I tole Jake
hit a bad sign. Sho' nuff dar did come trouble, 'long 'bout Augue and Septem-
ber. De boll weevil come des laic dat doctor man from 'way out yonder say he'd
come." After Mose had unloaded an accumulation of ambeer from his big black
mouth, he opened wide the same, clapped his horny hands, let go a long guffaw,
and then finished his narrative; "And, bless yo' life, dat bug shol romped on
things dat fall."
"Romped on things is correct, Mose," agreed the grocer. "So great was the
destruction that heavy losses were sustained by business men as well as by
farmers in this part of the country. Many suffered bankruptcy, and a financial
panic among the local crop -lending agencies was the result. Banks required
mortgages on real estate in placing further loans among farmers. This ruling
caused a big cut in the acreage planted in cotton in 1922, and the years that
12.
followed. But I don't believe hose and Jake and their boss did much toward
cutting cotton acreage." He then looked at hose and awaited his answer.
"VI -Ltd -Miss Jane, she tried to git him to plant sumpint in place of cotton,
but he say, tun uh,' des lak dat time she want him to plant peas. And one day
he went dawn to Columby and gived a mortgage on de place and bought mot gewano
dan ebber befol. When me and Jake was haulin' hit home, I say to Jake one day,
'Jake, die gewano don't smell lak hit grow cotton on dat Lan' up home.' Anyway,
Mister Oscar had us haul it out and put hit down in de fields and plant cotton
on hit. De cotton cone up and started to growin', and, suh, befo' de middle of
Nay I looks down one day and sees de boll weevil settin' up dere in de top of
dem little cotton stalks waitin' for de squares to fotm. So all dat gewano
us hauled and put down in 1922 made nuttin' but a crop of boll weevils. And
de very same thing happen agin de next year.' Nose walked to the door, spat, and
announced, Nell, white fo'ks, I reckon me and Jake will hadder be gittin'
'long back to dat ole red field over yonder and try to git some of dem gullies
filled up so us can plow cross 'em," and they departed.
"Old hose Austin has a splendid memory," the grocer remarked, "and I am
sure he has stated the facts. Ginit Staub accepts no one's advice in regard
to his method of farming not even in the face of danger. After the great
damage done by the boll weevil in 1921, the Columbia bankers, merchants, and
other business men acting as a unit the Chamber of Commerce became interest-
ed in securing expert advice for the farmers of the county under the Smith -Lever
Act of 1914. Money, office space, and equipment were provided in order to get
the best talent possible for weevil control, soil conservation, and farm manage-
ment in general.
"In 1922, Needhamiffinters a shrewd, quick-witted, rangy fellow from
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Texas A. and M. uollege was appointed farm demonstration agent for Richland
County. He came to my place one day soon after his appointment and suggested
a plan for the organization of a sort of forum club for the farmers in the com-
munity. i favored the idea, and, after winters and I had discussed the plan
with a few of the leading farmers, it later resulted in our getting a good active
farm organization. We named it The Dutch Fork Farm Improvement Association. One of
our main objects was to get hold of farmers, like Ginit Staub, in the community
and put tIem to prr.c-_,Icin6, if possible, some of Dr. S. A. Knapp's philosophy.
"County Agent winters, at my suggestion, took a whole day off from his
many official duties and went to see Staub on his farm. Despite the rebuffs
from Ginit, the audacious Texan 'stuck to his guns' and spent the day following
up the soil -robbing cotton planter over his place. winters met Ginit's rebuffs
with the suggestions: 'Old man, you need some terraces in this field; plant some
coy/peas; this fence needs mending; prune and spray those fruit trees; you've got
to dust this cotton with calcium arsenate, if you expect to produce cotton. It
was, however, only after winters had made Ginit the promise that he would be
made a director in The Dutch Fork Farm Improvement Association that he'd agree
to join and attend the meetings.
14For the regular monthly meeting of our farm organization, on July 1, 1922,
County Agent Winters had a number of speakers from Clemson College and elsewhere
for the meeting. He had evidently forgotten about Staub and the promise. Yell,
the house was full and the meeting was under way that night, when, quite un-
expectedly to everybody present, in stalked 'Director' Staub, muddy shoes,
walking stick, and all. He didn't stop walking until he had found a seat near
the speaker's stand. Winters' face beamed with the pride of a hunter who'd killed
a bear. Dr. Vernon of the Tri-State Tobacco Grower's Cooperative Association
14
had just begun to outline a plan for a cooperative narket in Columbia a curb
market when Staub came. The crowd began to giggle. After a while, it began
to appear there would be a general outburst of laughter and disorder in the
room. Winters, sensing the situation, whispered something in Dr. Vernon's ear.
The little doctor smiled, nodded, and then sat dawn.
"'Ham, bam, baml' The pocket knife in Winters' hand sounded on the teacher's
desk in the room, and then Winters announced: 'The meeting will please come to
order& Before Dr. Vernon resumes his discussion, we will hear from one of the
officers of our club Director Staubt'
"Well, sir, without preliminary ado, old Ginit ambled across the room to
a broken windowpane and squirted, with the accuracy of a marksman firing on a
bull's-eye, a stream of ambeer through it. He then unloaded his advice into
the anxious ears of his listeners:
"'There's been too much advice 'round here of late 'bout how to farm, and
not 'nough hones' -to -goodness work in the fields. Hal Raleigh, the hoes doctor,
was over at my place the other day and tol' me that the farm de-mon-strator
was doin' nothin' but goin' 'round over the county and a-makint fun of my ole
pore lan'. And he says to me, "Oscar, if I was in your place I'd go dawn to
one of them dern meetin's they're havin' down at the schoolhouse and lay in a
complaint agin that fellah Winters." And old Dock writ out me a petition to
present to yuh. So, as a member and officer of this club, my fellah farmers,
I've come to ask yuh to sign this petition.' He then took from his pocket a
folded paper the petition addressed to The Honorable Board of County
Commissioners, asking that the services of County Agent Winters be discontinued,
on the complaint that the said Winters had meddled into the business of the
farmers of Richland County.
15
"While Uinit didn't succeed in ousting Winters as county agent, he did
succeed in becoming quite well known, after that meeting, for the interest
he took in the political issues of the time and for his discrimination in his
choice of a candidate for public office. At was his habit, or affliction, to
be more often interested in the defeat of some public official than in the
election of any one in particular. He opposed all local movements looking
toward community improvements. he just had to be in opposition to his neigh-
bors always agin it.
"Well, it so happened," the grocer continued, 'that the years 1923-1930
were favorable in varying degrees for the cotton growers. The market for cot-
ton went up with markets for other commodities, and for stocks and bonds,
during that period. 2hey managed somehow to grow cotton on the 4taub farm,
and Ginit would hold it for a better price. Be was never able, houever, to
sell on the peaks in the market. At was his luck to unload at the bottom pretty
nearly every time he sold. At any rate, the last big sale of cotton made by
him was in the summer of 1931, at six cents a pound. Ginit then, to use one of
old Mose Austin's phrases, 'went broke as a convict.'"
Through the help of the Veterans' Bureau, the Seed Loan, and other hew
Deal agencies, Mr. Staub was enabled to live and to farm on for a few more
years at the old Staub place, as the DUtch Yorkers were now referring to the
soil impoverished farm. He unwillingly agin-it-like to the end became,
as he thought, a cooperator with the county agricultural agent in the program
of the Agricultural Adjustment Administration. when 1935 came, however, it
was found that Mr. Staub had not complied with the terms of the Bankhead Amend..
ment to the AAA Act. So there could be no check for him. And thus it was that,
on that October morning, he was compelled to stand by the garbage can the one
16
from which he so expertly sprayed the cockroach and had struck with his walking
cane and admit that Jane was right; that he'd made a mess of life.
Two weeks after Mr. Staub's demonstration in front of the county agent's
office, the little gingham -dressed woman he had called Jane decided that she
had seen enough of boll weevils, cotton fields, gullies, and failure. She,
therefore, bundled her few belongings and boarded a Southern Railway train
and was carried back to live again among cooperators in her native California.
Even though Mr. Staub was now the recipient of a substantial veteran's pension,
he could no longer be independent. He followed Jane.
Soon after Mr. and Mrs. Staub left for California, the old Staub farm
fell into the possession of a large holding company. The writer had an occasion
to visit the place some months ago. And what a spectacle! The dilapidated
residence was there, together with a few tumble-down buildings once used for
barns. The board fences were no longer in evidence; and where there was once
a well -kept orchard, only a few diseased and dead trees remained. Along the
former fence rows, and in the weeds and briar -grown fertile spots in low places,
there was growing an abundance of escaped peach seedlings, planted there by the
eroding soil. The red fields and gullies were veritable sore eyes on the land-
scape. The only human inhabitants found on the abandoned farm were a gray-
haired "egro, of unmixed blood, and his wife. They lived in the otaub home,
and he claimed to be employed as a sort of caretaker for the place. He was Mose
Austin. Despite the sixty-five years he claimed for his age, he was still
alert in mind and body, and still used Brown Mule his favorite brand of
chewing tobacco. He was in a reminiscent mood when found sitting on the rickety
porch facing the east. As he gazed across the red fields and gullies in the
direction of Congaree River, he had much to tell in connection with his life
17
on the *taub farm.
No, suh,' he began, 'die place ain't what hit used to be when Marster
Isaac, who wuz Mister Oscar's father, lef' hit nigh on to thirty year ago.
Hit was at dat time cawnsidered de finest place in de Dush rek. But now when
I sets here and looks 'cross at dese here gullies, weeds, and briars, and to
dat muddy water in de ribber, I says to mysef, 'Mose, dat muddy water am de
blood of die
while Mose Austin had much to tell concerning the Staub farm, he spoke
with a feeling when he mentioned the failure made by the late owner. It was
with profound regret that he saw the place pass out of the hands of a family
he had known for so many years. "I sho' hated to see Miss Jane and Mister
Oscar give up de place and go to de wee' is the way he put it. The faith—
ful Negro had spent his life on the place. H0 loved it and all the memories
connected with it. He realized, however, that its present condition was due
to the handiwork of a veteran soil robber, who was always agin it.
MCB