Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1917-12-07
LABOR IS HIS Joy
Wealth Not Worth While, De-
cIares Owner of a Gusher.
Riches, Minus Toll, Do Not Appeal
to Man Whose Farm lie Satu-
rated With Oil.

Two men were riding through n
of the newly discovered oil fields of
the Southwest. On each side of the
train rose an ugly forest of derricks,
covering the rolling prairie with an
unnatural growth. The ground under
those l~eafless timber trees was black
with crude oil. Refuse oil was burn
ing, and enormous clouds of black
smoke rolled up into the sky.
Suddenly the train swept by a quar-
ter-section farm that lay like a great
white square between the bristling
derricks and the black soil. The little
farmhouse was surrounded by q cot
tonwood grove. Two men with a team
at work, stacks of grain and alfalfa
and a herd of quiet cattle completed
the picture.
"Look !" one of the travellers ex-
claimed. isn't that queer That nus
be a dry section !"
A man across the aisle who over
heard spoke up:
"On the contrary, that quarter is
perhaps the richest oil land In the
aeId. See that one derrick close by
the house? It was a gusher and a
more than eight hundred barrels a
day. Philip Ross, his wife and two
sons live on the White farm, as 1t is
called. When the gusher was struck,
Ross older son rushed into h house
with the news. Ross and his wife were
there.
"Tather,' he cried. the oilmen say
it's the biggest drill In the stated we
can lease the whole farm for a mil
lion! Hurrahp
1.-THE father calmly looked at the
son.
"'What of it?'
"sWhat of It'll We are richl we
can go to New York or Chicago and
live without workingp
. alive without working?' said Ross.
sWhat sort of life Is -that?'
"They say Philip Ross brought his
hand down on the kitchen table where
he sat and said, Call in Duncan That
is the younger SON. Duncan came IN,
and the family sat there together.
az let the oilmen drill to test u
farm because you boys asked It, SAID
Ross. The result will give us a mil
lion without a stroke of work. But 1t
will ruin our quiet home and unit
us for life's real tasks. 1t has already
spoiled scores of u neighbors, as you
and mother know right well. l think
too much of you boys to let you grow
up with money you never really earn
ed. We are healthy, and daily work
is a Joy. We can't afford to be ricn.'
sHe turned to his wife and said,
.Janet, thank God that we are able to
work, and 10 not want to live without
IT, And the wife and the boys bowed
their heads while the sturdy OLD
Scotchman prayed.
ssThe oilmen were frantic at his re-
fusal to sell or lease. They offered
fabulous prices. They threatened and
tried to scare him into yielding. But
the White farm is still there, and ROSS
and his wife and sons are working on
It happily. surrounded by the forest
of rigs and the black stretch Of ruined
prairie soil.
The train was again passing through
the tangle Of derricks and black soil.
But in the memory of the two travel
ers the White farm dwelt, a picture
of rare conscience AMI conviction and
resistance to the prevalent desire to
make a fortune and live without work
Ing.
There is no real life without work.
ing. When will Americans learn that
lesson, and be content to live and work
on the White farm?-Youth's Compan-
ion.