The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1888-05-25
'ooAL-o1L JoHNNY's" HOME.
RoUsEvILIE, THE ONCE FAMOUS ol
CENTRE, A DESERTED WILDERNESS.

l
was the home of "Coal Oil johnny"
whose exploits in the wasting of riches
have been known and read of all men.
Coal Oil johnny, nor any other OF the
great throng which early in the sixties
lived amid the feverish excitement of
the oil regions, would know the place
to-day. Johnny stopped the other day
in Oil City. which under the smiles of
the Standard Oil Company, has grown
to be the head and centre of Oildom,
but he did not revisit the scene OF his
boyhood nor hunt out any of the old
faces which used to stand aghast at
the stories of his mad excesses.
I His was not the only fabulous for
tune found hereabouts, nor the only
one that vanished as quickly and easily
as it had come, and while old, worn
ont wells which have pumped up mill
ions of liquid gold go on in their
whe, zy, rheumatic fashion, making a
barrel or two of petroleum day, idlers
in this noiselessc land wish they had
some of the old stockings full of dollars
which, beyond doubt, are hidden
away in the odd corners of this Valley
of Disuse. Banks were not in good
order with denizens of the oil regions
in the days of the Juror. They kept
the ducats about them, aud many a
record of daring robbery lives here to
prove it, ,a-. ..1.l rfr ,-a
| Where oil creek wears its way noise
lessly between lines of grizzly mountain
a quarter of century ago the pulse OF
the oil excitement throbbed most mad
ly. And it was here TO R)useville
that men hurried to feel the mighty
artery's wild pulsation. The few in-
habltants will open their eyes and
wake up now, to tell a stranger Of
days when nigh onto ten thousand
| people got their mail at the Rouseyille
Post. Office when as far as you could
see the air was pierced by towering
derricks when houses rented for big
money, and a room hired for year
cost comfortable years salary when
every incoming train was crowded with
passengers until some even were forced
to ride upon the roofs of the cars.
| Rude temporary houses were built by
rearing fences to height of four or
five feet and covering them with oiled
cloth. You paid two or three dollars
| for bed and as much for meal.
The town couldn't begin to cook
| victuals enough, and the feeding lasted
straight through ths day and night.
As fast as one man rose from the
rough table and rough fare, and went
away to prosecute his wild labor, an
other took his place. 1t was the same
way with beds, which were never
vacant more than five minutes. And
where the carrion was the vultures
gathered too; Adventures Of every
stamp tbronged into Housewife till the
town couldn't hold them.
The most exciting occupation tht
place offers to-day is to sit in the sun
shine on the well-carved bench at the
side of the station ard look at and ado
to the long line of tobacco brandl
which hours of industrious chewing an(
expectoration has lett upon the rickety
sidewalk. The Justice of the Peace,
bearded gentleman in straw hat, blu
D checked shirt and homespun, high
. water trousers, stands coatless ant
t vestless on the bridge, which is 80 nea
! Baptism in the creek that no erring be
ing would dare drive over it fastei
than a walk Where houses-little
hasty,unpainted houses-used to cluste
thick as autumnal leaves, to-day onl!
crumbl,d foundation walls are left
with now and then humble dwelling
looking up in surprise at you and call
ing attention to itself by varying TIN
dismal monotony of. bouders all TIN
way up the slope. In door-yaids ar,
oil wells still sleepily pumping, and a
the housewife in this deserted villag,
goes about the routine of her dutie
she hears the lazy creak of the sam,
old machinery that was there whel
she came home blushing bride. Stand
ing in the street which skirts the bot
tom OF the village and where the bis
tawdry, school-houser makes its neigh
bors ashamed of their plainness, yol
may look uptown" at an angle o
EfCrty-fve degrees aud see as many oi
L"rigs" a. you do houses, until all tn,
time.stained aud dngy woodwork
struggles out of sight among crestins
hemlocks and over, the bow of tn,
mountain.
There is a treachery in men whlcl
riches aggravate. With one or TIVE
Cheering exceptions, the people wh'
have made the money in Rousevill
have gone far away to spend it, VIII
can blame ,hemf The days of blu
jeans and black bread are over, ant
their sons and daughters are dancin!
at exclusive little germans in big cities
: 1t is the men who didn't get rich il
J oil who stay in Rouseville ndstruggl
| for livelihood, and grumble abou
hard times just the same as they di
before nature threw in their path
vast opportunity which their neighbor
/, accepted. And from their humbl
homes they look out upon what is in
/ deed melancholy prospect. TIL
! rugged scenery, which alone redeem
I the dismal tnvirons. b is indeed tn
/ deepest infliction of the curse for o
/ is played out and the rocks forbi
farming. The big, broad vale
through which Oil Creek flows is maj
red all over its green bosom wit
blackened remnants of long abandone
"rigs" in one stage or another of decay
Disjected bits of pumping machiner
are here and there. A COW of pncel
tain breed is munching the grass whic
;. grows high around half-buried whee
), Yonder, everywhere. like scars O
Natures face, are black, scared hole
with the rude frame on which the de
rick stood. There is not sign of lii
to be seen in the whole valley, excel
the cattle, running stream, and II
smoke from boiler-house away up c
the hill across the valley, where
venturesome fellow named Waite, di
regarding the edicts of the Producer
Association, has been drilling a ne
well, and is starting up now 10 hop
to make a fortune. The villagers
V searching you may find one-say it
case of watch and Waite. for Il
bold driller is afraid some harur
scarum member of the Producers W