One day in July, a farmer sat in front of his shack, smoking his corncob pipe. Along came a stranger 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?”

“Didn’t plant none. ‘Fraid o’ drouth.”

“How about your potatoes?”

“Ain’t got none. Scairt o’ tater bugs.”

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

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

Illustrations Unlimited.