Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1865-04-06
New On Town, March 10, 1865.

Mr.. EDITOR We had hoped that with the re-
turn of spring action would dispel dreams, and
labor take the place of loafng, Spring is with u.s.
and the victims are still found at the resort The
farmer is there, and you would scarcely recognize
him, it not for his dress. Lounging and airy
flights of imagination have given his countenance
peculiar dreamy tinge. The old sober, business
like expression has vanished you notice the pale
ness of a student, the haggard look of bankrupt,
the far off gazing of dreamer. Big thoughts,
(and many of them), wild rawlings and hopes de-
fered, torture mind previously engaged in moth
ing more than the tending of sheep and the raising
of grain.
He tries to work but the old incentive is gone
and he seeks the store to Danish conflicting
thoughts His better self tells him to throw off the
weight which is crushing his mind, but dreams rule
him. At almost any hour of the day, you find him
at the resort not thinking of the fields of intended
corn, not thinking of the prospect of wheat, but
dreaming of something greater than corn wheat,
of that which will buy the grain thousand
fields. What passes around him is distant, unless
it relates to oil His dreams fill his mind. Bright
fushes of JOY and peace now and then, fit over his
countenance as he chases the sportive phantoms of
his diseased BRAIN deeper gloom brings him
to the earth when these airy beings vanish. But
fancy is ever creative and soaring, and new
journeys are made through more charming scenes.
Now, while the ground is ready for the furrow. he
is delighted with his wild thoughts Now, while
the cool winds blow his horses stand and dream
in the stables idle the time away at the hitching
post Hot days are not coming for them, the
drudgery of farming for their master. Oil will dis
pei labor horses and people can take their ease.
The victim Of the passive stage is there. But
there is a change. Formerly mere observer, now
he has a voice. The fever has passed to the
ACTIVE STAGE.
But few days of listening, of loafng, of dream
ing. and the victim begins to talk. At first his
words are few. But the power of speech rapidly
increases and he soon talks with the eloquence
which oil alone call forth. Soon learning the
fact, and having fancy ready to supply needed
suppositions, he is well prepared to address
willing ears and understanding minds And
if his speech be far from eloquent. he has little
trouble i'll holding audience. Men cheerfully
sit for whole day listening to wild, useless oily
harangue, while an able lecture, or important ser
mon, is an inflicted burden. To please, is but to
excite their earnest sympathy.
Talking does not satisfy the sufferer Action is
required, and to labor for oil is his highest aim
Money is to be raised, for he must become Il
stock holder He had intended to use his money
in other ways, but that is of little account. The
repairing of fences and buildings, and the buying
of new implements, must all give way to the grea-
ter demand of the present. And when oil flows,
there will be no need of fences, barns and plows.
And the money is squandered. He has forgotten
that cents make dollars, and dollars hundreds he
has passed all such small calculations In his ar
rithmetic thousands make millions, millions bill
lions, and the calculations are performed by Iog0-
riH,ns. The old principle he followed formerly is
as a dream. Then it was little by little" now,
thousands by HOusandS" He leaves the old, long
lation
Another step is taken. He is in the saddle and
off the country, through rain and mud, leas-
ing farms small fortune is net sufficient, he
longs for all he can imagine How he can make the
most in the shortest time is his only thought, not
whether he would be more contented. Once happy
with the little he saved by economy and earned by
hard labor, now he madly grasps after all within
his imagined reach Thus you find the victim ac-
tive, eloquent a stakeholder, grasper How
changed from the sober, business man! ldthings,
old thoughts, lost to him all is oil and oil is
all. Once sober, happy and natter-of-fact ; now
longing, grasping dreaming!
J. G. H.