Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1880-09-17
THE WIDOWS OIL

--Jdma ", R0ey.
THE WIDOWS OIL.
Sham City was set upon a hill The hill
had its feet in the Allegheny river, and its
back braced against another, higher hill. On
its right hand and on its left hills rambled
away into the distance, all as barren and
dreary and unpicturesque as hills could be.
! They seemed to have wandered of from the
great mountain range to which they belong
ed in search of the river, and to have been in
too great haste to reach it to have had any
regard for comelness they had dressed
themselves i'll the scantiest verdure possible
and jumbled themselves together without the
slightest regard TO shapeliness.
The city had begun life at the foot of the
hill late one Saturday night, but it rivalled
Jacks bean stalk in climbing powers, for be-
fore the next Saturday night it was firmly
seated on the top of the hill, the great hariug
gas torches which served for street lamps
making it beacon to the surrounding coun-
try. One week the hill was dreary waste,
with nothing but Il little Irish settlement of
half dozen houses, tucked into hollow on
one side, to redeem it from utter solitude :;
| the next-behold Sham City Extremely
| limited as to architectural pretensions-guilt-
| less even of lath and plaster, to speak frank
| ly-but rejoicing in nine tall derricks, each
| representing wonderfully successful bore ;
III five lourshing liquor saloons aud week
! ly newspaper, appropriately named Sham
| City Squirt.
The builders had evidently not wrought for
| postorty. Rough boards hastily thrown to-
! gether, formed the dwelling houses; whether
| the oil would flow for three days or a year
was a matter of utter uncertainty; but when
| it ceased to flow, Sham City would become a
thing Of the past in almost as short space
of time as had been necessary to bring it into
! existence.
Some of the people set up their household
| gods, lace curtains, Brussels carpets, pianos,
and canary birds as if Sham City were n
permanent abiding place. These were the
wise women the foolish ones gave them
| se!vc up to bewaing their discomforts, and
longing for the flesh. pots of Philadelphia
| The men were all wild with the fever of spec
ulntion. They staked their last dollar upon
| the chances of striking oil where there were
| the faintost indications, and fortunes were
made and lost with astonishing celebrity. The
| oil played strange pranks there was no find
ing out in which direction it ran. The Yam
| KEGS were no better off than the others, for
shrewdness was of no avail. Luck was lord
of all. While the oil lasted, Sham City had
| all the excitements of Wall street
To the widow Mulloney belonged the hon
! Vi VI DtlllB ALt lONuNltI VI nudlu wy. anu
it came about from dream that she dreamed
on Easter Tuesday night after going to the
christening of Patrick Flanngans baby
The festivities ON that occasion were not
altog, ther Of IL religions character; indeed,
| Mrs. Mulloney admitted frankly thatshe had
a dthrap taken" and declared that it was
the furst time that she ever knew the era
thur to do amy good in the wurruld."
Mrs. Mulloney was the relict of Dennis
Muloney late workman in the Allie
| ghany Iron Mills, and she lived in Tipperary
| the httlc settlement in the hollow beside
| Spruce Hill. She had been "a poor lone
wildly woman" Us she was wont to remark
! pathetcally, for five years the adj Electives
were to be taken in the hgurative sense, for
| Dennis had been "dacent, honest bye, ~ and
had laid by a snug little pile of savings,
which. the widow had never touched except
TO give him "a comfortable funeral that
wouldn't be afther shamin' him and her
loneliness was mitigated at least, by the pos
session of seven children, four 'foine pigs,
q COW, and goat, a large flock of hens, two
dogs and three cats, all dwelling under one
roof in great amity. The widow did all the
washing and ironing she could get, and her
seventeen year old daughter Maggie sowed
in families at Riverbend, and they raised po-
t0toes and cabbages in their own garden, and
were altogether as well provided for and con-
tented as heart could desire, until the night
when Mrs Muloney went to the christening,
She assembled her household and related
this dream to them in the morning:
II seen your fairther-god rest his sowl
-aslke himself as liver he was in the wurruld,
barrin' he was dressed up in foine new
broadcloth suit, an him diggin' an diggin
away wild a shpade at the fut of the hill
fornist the river, an livery shpadeful he tux
up was burnin' an shinin' gowld, an it was
melted like, an runnin' along the ground like
oil, an l was unsettled like in me mind as ye
do be in dthrames, whether was it oil or was
it gowld. An says he, lookin' up at me,
'Honora, says he, beware O. me furst cousin
Patrick Flanagan, for it's afther the gowld
he is
"An' the hairt o me was batin', an the
teeth O. me was chatterin' wild the fright, but
| shpakes up as bowld as l can, an says !,
What would Patrick Flannigan have to do
wild the gowld at all at all ? says l.
"'Ye bein' wildly wuman, says he, AN
him wildly man, he might be afther putin
his finger Until the pie Kape fast how'd iv
it, an don't let anybody get it away from yeez,
says he. An me blushin as rid as fire that
anybody wud be afther sayin' such things
about me an dacent man like Patrick, only
two weeks a widdy-though its not raison or
sinse ye can expict iv ghost. 1t kim acrost
me, all to onst, that it might be the diyil that
was afther fxin' himself up in the likeness iy
your poor farther, that he might play his
thricks to betther advantage, the black HART
ed villain An l makes the sign iv the Grass,
an says till him:
"'}e off wild YET says l, an don't be
afther insultin' poor lone wildly woman.
It's not me poor Dinnis, ye do be at all, but
the Ovid Bye himself an it's lyin' and de-
savin' about the gowld ye are, be the same
token = But in place o Ayin' away wild him
self whin l makes the sign iv the Grass, there
he stands as bowld as ye PLACE, smilin' like
an givin me dthroll wink out iv the corner
| iv his eye, an me all iv a thrimble, remem-
bering the bit O. mate 1 ate last Friday an
the twinty-cent piece l give Farther Ryan
for a quarther, an him lookin' at it out iv his
blind eye, an thinkin the divil had got great
power over me be the names. An what do
| ye think the felly says then2 'Honora, says
he do ye mind how we lost the greenhorun
chest comm over, an ye had to come ashore
wild niver bonnet till your head, barrin' an
ovid rid Handkerchief, an niver a shoe till
| your fut barrin' pair o. me ovid brogans
that was all broke? An sure how wud amy
body but Dinnis know about the greenhorun
chest 2-barrin' it was the divil that flew
away wild it, they all said. AN, says /, is it
Dinnis ye are, an not the Ovid Nick at all ?
An made like l wud put me two arums
around his neck, whin all TO wanst the divil