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Cotton Queens. World War I began: Delta cotton went to 25¢ a pound and Delta land went to $35 an acre. The second year of the war, Old Man Town sold 750 bales and bought 4,000 acres from a neighbor. He also mortgaged his 16,000 acres and his next year's crop to a Memphis cotton factor for $50,000. He gypped his hands out of "everything he thought they would stand . . . sold them cheap whiskey at bonded prices for what little money they did draw." In 1917 cotton went to 50¢. Old Man Town, in his $75 custom-made boots, his faded wash pants, his wide Stetson and his 50¢ work gloves, was a Cotton King. Mrs. Town decided that her daughters should become Delta Queens. Old Man Town's lawyer bought them "a wine-colored brick monstrosity" on Memphis' Speedway. The girls were enrolled in Miss May's Select School for Fashionable Young Ladies.
One day in Memphis an automobile salesman walked into the factor's office. "Why don't you get yourself an automobile?" the factor said. "Well, I never thought about one," said Old Man Town. "Whut they wuth?" "We've got a nice little job here for five thousand that ought to get you over your place ail right," said the salesman.
Old Man Town "walked around the car as he would a horse, feeling its slick sides and the gleaming brass of the headlights." The salesman "stomped the cutout open, and they sat listening to the throaty roar of sound. 'How does she sound?' said the salesman. 'Hit sounds right powerful,' said Old Man Town."
He bought it outright and a mechanic drove him home. Wee Boy did the chauffering and things went smoothly until they got a flat tire. A mechanic came down from Memphis to fix the first one. Old Man Town chopped the second one off. After that they got along for a while on the naked rim.
Cash Payment. Next fall cotton went above 90¢. When settlement time came, Old Man Town set before each of his hands a check for several hundred dollars (only a scrap of what he owed them) and a hatful of quarters and half-dollars. He told them to take their pick. "The Negro reached for the hat. 'All dis mine?' he said. 'Wait,' said Old Man Town. 'I fergot to take out my half.' "
The war ended. Mrs. Town came back to the Delta and Old Man Town built her a $100,000 house with $50 doorknobs. She added an "e" to her name. Next year Old Man Towne raised dollar cotton. Mrs. Towne, pallid Loraine and nympholeptic little Elaine went to Europe. Van, demoniacally drunk, scorched around the State in an Apperson Jackrabbit with a siren on it, leaving terror, curses and shaken fists in his wake. Old Man Towne borrowed $500,000 against the open draft notes signed in his name in Van's handwriting, and against the importunate cables from abroad. One day he came back from Memphis with a suitcase and called Mammy in. Old Man Towne explained that he was deeding over to her the house in Memphis and that the suitcase, which contained $25,000, was for her. "Yas suh, Mist' Otis," said Mammy.