The Sharecropper Prodigy Read Free Page B

more from what I heard.”
                  I could tell by the look on Ben’s face that the wheels were turning inside his head and he was wanting desperately to say something. I was silently praying he didn’t. Some of these men had already lost their farms and others were one bad crop away from losing theirs. It wouldn’t even take a bad crop. Just one that was any less bountiful than last years. The last thing they wanted was to hear from an opinionated darkie. Especially one that was only thirteen years old. God had always been real good to me and had answered a lot of prayers, but apparently I was not in His favor that day, because Ben opened his mouth.
                  “I believe President Roosevelt is the problem and not the solution,” Ben said, as though he were addressing a classroom full of children. “You talk about things like the WPA and government relief, Mr. Samples. Where do you suppose the money comes from to fund those programs?”
                  Bob Samples just stood there with his mouth wide open. The other men all turned toward Ben and looked at him as if he was some alien creature from another world.
                  “Well,… hell boy. It comes from the government, where else? They print it at the uh…… at the, what’s that placed called Charlie?”
                  “The U.S. mint,” Charlie Stone answered. Charlie was the go-to man when it came to politics and the government. “What would a little toe-headed nigra know about it, anyhow?”
                  I was surreptitiously poking Ben, trying to get him to stop while he was still ahead, but I reckon the Good Lord had it in for me today. I was wondering what terrible sin I had committed that I hadn’t sought forgiveness for.
                  “But Mr. Stone, the government doesn’t produce anything of any intrinsic value. The money they print has to be backed up by something. They….”
                  “They’ve got gold in them vaults, boy,” old Charlie’s face was beginning to turn red, “that’s where the backin comes from. Don’t try to tell me….”
                  “Roosevelt took us off the gold standard, Mr. Stone. The government has to borrow the money and then has to pay it back with interest. Just like you do when you borrow money from the bank to buy your seed and fertilizer. The only difference is, you don’t have a printing press in your barn to make money like they do. If you default on your loan, the bank will take whatever collateral you have pledged. The government don’t have that problem. They just print more worthless currency, which deflates the dollar and causes things to cost more, and then try to squeeze all the tax money they can out of those who have it. And that number is getting smaller every day.”
                  “Well, them fat-cats up North and them big bankers needs to pay more taxes, anyhow,” Charlie said. “Their the ones that caused this Depression, a-gambling in that stock market. Now it’s time fer them to pay the fiddler since their party is over. Roosevelt is the only president we ever had who cares anything about the little man, and he‘s a-tryin’ to git them rich folks to pay up so’s us farmers and the little man can have a shot fer a change.”
                  The whole crowd started shouting their agreement with what Charlie Stone had said. Ben, however, was shaking his head and waiting for them to quiet down so he could speak again. I hadn’t realized until that moment that Ben had suicidal tendencies.
                  Ben spoke loud enough to be heard over the crowd, “Mr. Stone, have you ever been given a job that paid wages from a poor man?”
                  Charlie Stone looked at Ben like he wanted to run through him. “No, but what’s that got to do with anything, boy?”