There is a revealing story about one of the combination farmer-merchant-bankers of Western North Carolina. A book agent came to sell him a set of books
on scientific agriculture. The old man thumbed through them.
“No, I don’t want ‘em.”
“You ought to buy these books, sir. If you had these books you could farm twice as good as you do.”
The old fellow settled himself more comfortably in his chair.
“Hell, son,” he said, “I don’t farm half as good as I know how now.”