SOUTHERN HORIZONS 



tion, but the new competition seldom comes so quickly 

 that there is not plenty of time for readjustment. 



If the apex of chemurgic accomplishment is to create 

 wealth from waste, then the prize with palms and oak 

 leaves goes to a lean, gnomelike, russet-skinned man 

 with a long nose and bright blue eyes under heavy 

 brows who works busily in a large, rather messy labora- 

 tory at Texas Tech. Ten years ago Charles G. Rook set 

 himself the task of salvaging the burrs of the cotton 

 plant. These tough, horny bolls within which fiber and 

 seed come to maturity are the ultimate waste the squeal 

 of the pig of the cotton industry. The gins have been 

 delighted to give away burrs to any farmer who would 

 haul them off to spread on his fields and return some 

 organic matter and a bit of potash to the soil. A few 

 very provident growers do this, but most farmers think 

 the fertilizer value does not pay for the time and labor, 

 so the burrs generally get burned under the boilers. 

 A fair-sized gin will collect some two million pounds 

 during a season, which make a rather imposing trash 

 heap. 



Rook worried about these heaps and the scanty plant- 

 food and low fuel values of the cotton burr. In a speck 

 of a town, Gladewater in East Texas, he had a snug little 

 business of his own making waxes, insecticide bases, 

 naphtha soaps, and other chemical specialties out of 

 crude petroleum. In his miniature laboratory he began 

 analyzing burrs on his own time. 



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