The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-09-10

was Pitholel / had left it teeming with busy
people. bustling with business. and half mad
with the exeitemant of wild speculation. Now
even nature had forsaken it, leaving only one
halfcrazed old man to guard its dust and ashes
The harmless old man had lived in peace and
contentment on little clearing on the site of
Pithole all his life The oil fever had found
him poor. it had made him fabulously rich, and
when it subsidized it left him poorer than before
for it had wrenched his poor old mind off its
bearings.
what do you sect" asked, seating myself
beside the old man, and not letting him know
that the landscape was by degrees becoming
strangely familiar to me.
What do seeP said he slowly, without NOV
ing his eyes from the bare brown valley. 81 see
a city full of people; I see a valley swarming
with lie and business, the smoke of countless
furnaces, the steam from countless engines
hear the clang of hammer and anvil, the roar of
swift wheels, the rattle of cranks and bolts, the
voices of busy men, the hum of industry.
This, said the sad old man, laying his hand
sorrowfully upon the rotting timber, this is
all that is left of the Bonita House. noble struct-
ure. Down there, where You see a woodchnck
burrowing, stood the Chase House, the best no.
tel in Northwestern Pennsylvania. The postof-
nee occupied one of its big corners, and noisy
crowd of OF. princes filed its scores of rooms
Right across the street; where sapling grows
a murder was done, and just above is where the
first woman in Pithole shot herself through the
heart in fit of remorse. Drink some said but
COW munching dry grass there now-stood the
Methodist Church, dedicated with great pomp by
Bishop Simpson, of Philadelphia; Dr.. Loomis
president of Allegheny College, and the Rev. q.
W Matby, presiding elder of the jamestown
district; never bad dollar of debt as know
personally.
''Oh yes, / can point EN- all out-banks,
churches and theaters, There was Murphy's
Theater over that pool Of water,1 machine shops
pipeline Offices, the railroad station hotels; there
stood the Morey Farm Hotel, destroyed by fire
by an incendiary. And the big oil wells Why,
over there among those new grown bushes was
the great Pool well. the pride of the town. the
wonder OF the whole country. 1t flowed for
time at the rate of 1900 barrels day! Then
there were the old Frazier good for 900 barrels
day; the big Grant well, 700 barrels; the Bur
tbs, 300 barrels; the two Homestead wells; the
Eureka, that produced 80 600 barrels all told; the
famous Twin wells, No. and No. g on the
Thomas Holmden farm, ard hundreds of others
The land all around here was covered as thick
as trees with them. What do you see nowl
Here and there the blaekened end of length of
iron casing sticking foot above ground-that is
all Everything is gone now-buildings, der
ricks, tanks, machinery, TOOLS men. and
money. The town lasted two years. and then
faded away until to-day there is nothing
left lived here almost alone when the town
started, and am living here alone now Men
have come and gone by thousands but ] have
still remainea true to the old place Sometimes
at night, when | am alone in my little old house
uo"h VAioA0, = Avo oFer 1he uayS vi %, see Vne
waves of speculation and strange innovation
sweeping up against the solid door, only to ebb
again, leaving the old house and me alone
Sometimes, when / sit here, the city rises up be-
fore me as of old, and the valley swarms with
busy men.
Going now, stranger? Well, it's always been
that way with me. Walk your horse down this
little path--it used to be busy bowling street
land I'll show you where the buildings stood.
guess I'm the only man in the world that can
guide you over the ruins of the city that he him
self laid out and helped to build Strange, isn't
it, Stranger than death Well, the lower paths
your best way out, guess-old Titusville plank
road, you know. You'd better prod the gray a
little; there's big transform coming. Good
day." AZ
Standing in the middle of his lonely field the
old man watched me out of sight, and when the
trees hid my horse he turned slowly, and climb
ing to his seat ON the bluff, buried his grizzied
face in his thin brown hands.