John March Southerner

Oh, Mr. Ravenel; we can’t. We just can’t! It’s the strangest thing in the world, sir! Nobody wants it but lumbermen, and to let them, faw a few cents an acre, sweep ove’ it like worms ove’ a cotton field–we just can’t do it! Mr. Ravenel, what is the reason such a land as this can’t be settled up? We’ll sell it to any real settlehs! But, good Lawd! sir, where air they? Son an’ me ain’t got no money to impote ‘em, sir. The darkies don’t know anything but cotton fahmin’–they won’t come. Let me tell you, sir, we’ve made the most flattering offers to capitalists to start this and that. But they all want to wait till we’ve got a good gov'ment. An’ now, here we’ve got it–in Clearwateh, at least–an’ you can see that these two men ain’t satisfied!