independent of
England are raising little patches of cotton, weaving their own cloth
on hand looms, and refusing to purchase that of English make. It
certainly seems fair enough that the wealth derived from this crop
should remain in India and not be spent for things the people of India
do not like. However, all that is too big a question for you and me."

"Did you ever see cotton growing, Uncle Frederick?" asked Tim, who had
drawn near.

"Oh, often, sonny. As a general thing the plant is like a Christmas
tree in shape. The perennial plants, or those that come up every year,
frequently grow to be six or eight feet tall; but the annual ones
remain little three or four-foot bushes. Still each grows into pyramid
form, having the wider branches at the bottom. The leaves are not
unlike the lilac; and there is a deep, cup-shaped pod having points
that turn up like fingers and hold the cotton in tightly. But no matter
whether perennial or annual, the cotton plant must have a hot, humid
climate to thrive, and if the land is not naturally moist it must be
irrigated as it is in Egypt."

"I thought things like cotton just grew wild, Uncle Frederick," said
Tim.

"No, indeed," laughed his uncle. "You cannot gather big crops of
anything unless you are willing to work for them. The Lord does not
mean to make life too easy for us. He gives us all these things and
then He has done His part; we must do the rest. The world is a place of
opportunities, that is all. If we are too lazy to take them, or too
stupid, it is our own fault. Many a man gets nowhere because he fails
to grasp this idea. So, sonny, you do not get your cotton all grown for
you, and with the seeds picked out. You are given the root and if you
wish a big cotton crop you must plant seeds, or better yet set out
cuttings, cultivate and care for the plants. Every minute your mind
must be on the thing you are trying to raise. You must watch, for
instance, for pests of insects; diseases that will spoil your plants;
blights caused by fungi; and above all for sudden changes in the
weather. Should it turn scorching hot just when your cotton shoots are
up and beginning to spread their roots the result will be fatal. Or an
early frost will work ruin. Sometimes, you know, we have a spell of hot
weather in the late winter that fools the growing things into thinking
spring has come, and the poor misguided plants begin to put out their
leaves. Then, like a mischievous joker, old