Tobaccoliday

A long tin shed. On its floor piles and piles of brown leaves, rows and rows of piles. Down the long rows slowly moves an auctioneer chanting numbers, numbers and more numbers, singsong fashion. Behind him trail the buyers. Every eight, ten. fifteen seconds comes the only refrain that breaks the monotony of the chant: "Sold to this company" or "Sold to that." Thus every autumn since before the Civil War the U. S. tobacco crop has gone to market. Last week, however, singing auctioneers were silenced in Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia, North Carolina.

Three...

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