Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1880-04-14
A True OIL Story,

be TO those not interested In boring,
vet some Of tho most romantic events
on record lhaye been enacted at the
wells, and true slories arc told OF
them which put imagination to shame
One which ! heard the other day
haunts mo so that must write II
down,
A certain man, who had been mod
cratoly comfortable during his life,
having been inoculOted with the OIL
fever, examined his farm and ianeied
that no discovered tokens Of toll
He at once engaged the proper men,
with their machinery, and sct to work
at great expense 10 bore. When 1t
was gone, oil had not been found
However, this was only because he
had not yet touched the right spot
More boring must be done The oil,
he felt sure, was there.
Scarcely legs hopeful than before,
the oil seeker led from his stable his
fine horses, took his cattle from their
sheds and sold them, and tho work
went on still fruitlessly, but he could
not stop now. Men were making
fortunes about him every day' no
fclt sure OF ultimate success. The few
fields he possessed went next Then
his house-his old homestead. His
wife not one whit behind him in en-
thusiasm, was the first to propose sell
ing tho furniture, and with her own
hands took from their case her ear.
riugs-,he only valuable jewels she
possessed.
The great machine proddins away
amongst the rocks swallowed all. The
family who once lived comfortably
and even elegantly, now lodged and
felt as day .laborers might; the wife
earned bread for them by washing or
sewing for nelghbors; but she took
o long journey on foot, sought out her
father, very old man, and begged
him on her knees to give her then and
there, the portion which she knew he
had left herln his will. The father
yielded The money--it was not
much-was brought back to her hns-
band by the faithful wife, and went as
the rest had gone. One afternoon,
the once comfortable farmer stood
penniless. He had neither house nor
lands, nor cattle; no other clothes
than the shabby trousers and hickory
shirt upon his back. He was almost
barefoot, and had not credit for loaf
of bread.
He looked at his wife, courageous
and uncomplaining; but with starva-
ton in her eyes, and felt a remorse
too bitter to endure. 1t would be
hotter he felt that he should die; then,
indeed, people would pity her. Her
family would take her home. She
would suffer privation no longer.
Walking about the place in list
less manner he picked up a long
strong cord, and his eye fell upon a
strong hook in the empty barn, from
whence he saw in imagination, his
own form swinging cold and stiff and
horrible to look upon.
81 hope some of the men will find
me and keep the sight from her. he
said. "Poor wife! poor wife she
did not deserve this, if did"
Then he went slowly down towards
the cpot where the man he had hired
to bore for oil was hard at work
amongst his men.
"Stop them," he said in a despair
ing voice. "Stop them. l owe you
money now that l shall never pay you.
I've been fool, but l don't. want to
be more of rascal than i can help.
Stop your men!'
For a moment the throbbiDg and
clicking ceased. All was silent. Then
looking at his broken down employer
the heart of the great, rough fellow
melted.
"Go to work again. Give him the
rest of the day he cried to his men.
"Its only an hour. There may be
luck for hlm yet.
"Luck for mel" sighed the ruined
man. .... ....
He flung himself down upon rock
hard by and buried his face in his
hands. The wold OF sympathy. the
act OF kindness, had quite unnamed
him. He had grown so used to
sneers. For ten minutes he lay there
weeping, though no one knew 1t.
Then-what was itf Had he gone
mad. A sudden shrew-a yell-a
shout. In that brief space Of time