Word: bollings
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Poverty is an old story among the sandhills and pine barrens in South Carolina's Barnwell County. For more than a hundred years, small farmers have scratched a poor living out of sandy soil, have watched spring droughts brown their corn and boll weevils eat their cotton. But never before had people felt as beset and unwanted as they did last week...
When a whim gets into big (250 pounds), jolly Congressman Frank Boykin, it sits there gnawing like a boll weevil until he does something about it. Like when he was 16, a poof farm boy, and got the urge to make money. Frank went out, became one of Alabama's biggest lumber and turpentine tycoons, and made himself a few million. Or like the other day, when he got the idea he should do something for his old pal, Speaker Sam Rayburn...
...Note--To give a complete explanation of the award problem would require too much space, since the HAA has scores of reservations and ruling ratifications. In trying to boll down the subject to reasonable size, the editorial in question was obliged to over-simplify in presenting both problem and solution. Even Mr. Norris has failed to mention all the technicalities; for instance, in cross-country, the first three places in the H-Y-P meet receive major letters. It is also true that Mr. Bingham and his staff are currently aware of the problem, but they have been aware...
Entomologist James Augustus Hyslop was once, and for many years, a valiant insect fighter. Back in 1908, Hyslop en listed in the bug-fighting army of the U.S. Department of Agriculture. He poisoned grasshoppers, battled boll weevils, spied out numberless insects with a view to their undoing. Finally, as boss of the Insect Pest Survey and Information, he and his minions slew bugs by the billions. But as he got to know the enemy, a change came over Hyslop : he began to see things from the insect's point of view...
Memphis' boll-headed Boss Ed Crump told the press that he had got a note demanding $50,000 on pain of death. Crump paid, said he-one cent postage due on the letter. He took a brown grip to a designated spot and left it there for 40 minutes, but nobody came for it. So Crump cleared his throat and read to reporters the contents of the grip: "To the coward perpetrating this dastardly thing: anyone could take a white mouse with baby teeth and run you in the Mississippi River...