In time a new and modern home was built—on higher ground nearer Holly Bluff and its modern school house. This home has a large and beautiful living room paneled and beamed in "pecky cypress", and it was there J. Frank Durham got his idea of paneling the new Durham Building here in the City.
Mr. Stoner now owns some 3,000 acres of that Mississippi Delta, virtually all of which is as level as a baseball park; a fleet of 12-foot combines, tractors, a vast amount of modern equipment and enough rubber-tired low grain wagons to fill a small-sized parking lot. He has a large interest in the community cotton gin, although cotton has almost disappeared from his land. He has many other and varied interests.
He revolutionized farming in the Mississippi Delta by introducing mechanized equipment and changing from cotton to other and better-paying crops that require less manual labor. These are a part of the secrets of his astounding success, coupled with ability, hard work and close careful attention and application to his business. . .
Week before last, Mr. Stoner and his comely wife came North but not in a box car. Their mode of travel is a June, 1954-vintage, air-conditioned Cadillac, just off the assembly line.
Your editor met Mr. and Mrs. Stoner at a dinner party at Old
Trails Inn being given by Mr. Andrew E. Durham in their honor.
Messrs. Stoner and Durham were members of the 1917 State Scottish
Rite Class at Indianapolis, and lived as neighbors west of the
City. . .
The Farmer's Game
Mr. Stoner talked freely of his boyhood days in Greencastle. He and others of his age would gather evenings in the restaurants around town to eat hamburgers or some such food. They invented a pastime they called "the farmer's game". . . Slips of paper were shaken up in a hat and each member drew a slip. All but one were blank. The one who drew the slip labeled "treat" had to do just that.
In due time the boys improved the game to make it as sure for those "in the know" not to lose as the present day one-armed bandits. There would be, say, five in the game, one of whom was the "sucker". One of the conspirators would prepare the five slips. He did that by writing "treat" on all five slips. In the meantime each conspirator would have obtained a blank slip of the same shape and quality of paper. This he would have rolled-up in his LEFT vest pocket—just in case.
The drawing would begin. The victim would have to draw a "treat" slip because all five were labeled that way. Those in the know would draw, give a quick sort of look and put the slips in their RIGHT vest pockets, at the same time conjecturing aloud, "Mine was a blank. Wonder who got the treat slip," or some such remark.
One night, after being bilked three successive times, the victim became suspicious. Feeling he had served his apprenticeship long and faithfully, the others were ready and willing to admit him as a full blood brother. They told him to prepare the slips and conduct the drawing, which he of course did according to the "official" rules—four blanks and one with "treat". To the surprise of all, and rather contrary to the mathematical law of averages, he again drew the "treat" slip. This convinced him that the game was straight.