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27 Æ K y •>äctu Volume xx. Helena, Montana, Thursday, January 21, 1886. No. 10 tfVÏMily Kjcralit R. E. FISK D. W FISK, A. J. FISK, Publishers and Proprietors. Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana Rates of Subscription. WEEKLY °HEKALD : One Year. (*n wlvanre).............................S3 00 Hix Months, (in advance)............................... 2 00 Three Months, (in advance)............................ 1 to When not paid for in advance the rate will be Four Dollars per year^ Postage, in all cases. Prepaid. DAILY HERALD: City Subscribers,delivered by carrier.Sl 50 a month One Year, by mail, (in advance)..................812 00 Six Months.'by mail, (in advance)............... 6 00 Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 3 00 ♦«-All communications should be addressed to FISK BROS., Publishers, Helena, Montana. IF 1 WERE VO!'. Why did lie look so grave ? she asked. What might the trouble tie - / My little maid," he sighing said, "Suppose that you were me, And you a weighty secret owned. Pray tell me what you'd do." •J think I'd tel! it somebody," Said she, "if 1 were you !" But still he sighed and looked askance. Despite her sympathy. "Oh, tell me. little maid," he said Again, "if you were me. And you loved a pretty lass. Oh' then, what would you do?" "I think I'd go anil tell her so," Said she, "if 1 were you!" "My little maid, 'tis you," he said "Alone are dear to me." Ah, then, she turned away her head, And ne'er a word said she, But what he whispered in her head. And what she answered too— Oh, no, I cannot tell you this ; I'd guess, if I were you ! THE FERRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. The ferryman's daughter is young and fair. With soft blue eyes and dark brown hair, And a voice that is low and tender; And often she sits by her father's side. As he ferries me over the river wide In the sunset's golden splendor. Sometimes from under her'bonnet's rim I catch her peeing up—at him. As he sings some shoresman's ditty ; Sometimes she dabbles, as we glide, With her white lingers in the tide— The minx ! She knows she's pretty ! The ferryman's daughter is coy and shy, But, sometimes, 1 catch her eye— The maiden fair must know it! Then if there's love liehind the lashes. Though she looks quickly duwn and plashes Surely her cheeks will show it! A SONG FOR GIRLS. How dear to my heart is a sack made o'sealskin, A garment adapted to keep out the cold! 'Tis not like the jersey, which (its like an eel skin! '4*^1 'Tis loose, graceful, easy, and fair to behold. How smooth and glossy ! Its beauty enchants me ; What garment so lovely when worn by a belle ! Both walking and sleeping its poetry haunts me. The sack made of sealskin that tits me so well. The sack made of sealskin—the smooth, glossy skin— •«■>4 The beautiful sealskin that fits me so well. New Year Resolves. DeeemlKT comes with bitter blast, Time swiftly onward steals, The winter days now follow fa t Upon each other's heels. One day and then another goes, And those who are alive Will shortly look upon the close Of eighteen eighty-five. When the old year shall take its flight, The new we'll turn to meet With re-o!utions for the right Young eighty-six well greet. And then we ll all swear off again, Our hearts with pride aglow, And keep the pledge like honest men, For half a week or so. Bee Hi»«. IH. C. Dculge, lu Good all's Clii a go 3m.] . Observe *. * * . • * * .* * . these busy little bees • * . • , * * ** a laying up their honey . . • . * » * anil try to be as wise as these * *• * ' . by saving all your money. You * . • * * . smoke sav, five cigars away, and * * * * * drink, say rfx times dally; caïds, pool * • * * ainl billiards, too, you play, and treat . . tin- fellows gayly. In twenty years this , * . fun will cost, according to good scholars, . . with Im.ci' t, and time that's lost, just , * "i. But if you count your loos of , heallh and self Inflicted trouble, you'll . find this foolish waste of wealth will llgure . more than double. Then, when it's time no more to slave, but pleasure take, so sick you wll feel because you didn't save, you'll want somi one to kick you. So imitate these busy bees and all your pennies treasure, and then,whet older, take your ease, with forty yours of pleasure Preparing for the New War's festival. [J. A. Macon in Chicago Rambler.] I'll git my full-dress razzer out an' make hei glimmer bright. For I wants to Loss de table at de festervu to-night; I nebln -r dull di; weepin when I go to shave my chin, But I keeps her v, ith a shiny aidge an' fixée for sailin' in. I always try to keep de peace, an' nebbei fight at all, An' nebber carve up naffin', 'cep' 'tis 'possmr in do fall, Or, ruebbo, when I cut a grimly chicken froc • an' froo, Or scarify do mutton at a summer bobby kew; But 'tis Ins' tor go out fortertied an' ready for a fray. For lots o' things may happen as you trabble 'long de way. You got to lo >k out sartin when you go tc break a colt, An' de feller fights de pretties' dat gets de Boones' holt. M hen you start out ou a cloudy day an' heat de thunderclap Your obercoat won't hu't you ef it shouldn't rain a drap; Tis Las' to hab two galluses, do' oue "ill hold your elo'es, An' 'tii hard to make too many licks in chop pin' out de rows. Den'tis well to be pertickler when you're walkin' in de night, An' fix vi'ure'f for dang'ous things befo'dey git in sight Vi hen 1 go to cut de pidgin-w ing, or he'p'eir wid a song, I don't forget my manners 'cause I takes my w-eepin 'long; But a nigger feels his keepiu' when he tries a dance or two, W id a lady hitched onto him and a razzer ir his shoe. MARGARET OF NEW ORLEANS.! Whose Memory win He Hevered By Or* 1 'lians oil Christmas J>ay. fSporial Correspondance.! New Orleans, Dee. 22. —Fancy celebrat ion g Pilgrim Fathers' iluy in New Orleans! It sounds like the millennium, when the lion and the lamb shall lie down together, and the lamb not be inside the lion, either. It is enough to make Gen. Robert Toombs, rest his fiery soul! come to life again. But that celebration is just what is going on here to-day. It comes ab )ut through the industrial exposition. Pilgrim Fathers' day, Dec. 22. was set apart for New England day in the New Orleans exposition. It is not of Pilgrim Fathers' day in New Orleans tha' I am going to write in this lèt ter, though. It is of something connected with industries, indeed, but of industries that will count in the eternities. A friend has given me a picture. It is before me now. Our artist has reproduced it for you here be fore your eyes. v«i MARGARET HAUGHERY. It is simply a photograph of a plain, stout old woman. The face is broad, lit up withal by an expression both shrewd and kindly. Margaret Haughery was a poor girl of Irish parentage, who could neither read nor write. Yet she made a fortune of half a million of dollars. That of itself was enough to make any woman famous. Few enough of the sex could do it, poor things! But hear what she did with this nobly earned money. At this time of the year she comes back to the memory with especial vividness, for now hundreds of orphans will be enjoying the festive season which she gave them. Only for her love and labors, their Christ mas, poor fatherless ones, would have been sjtent in want and misery. Blessed are they who make the children happy at Christmas time! Margaret, the orphan's friend, had herself been a lonely orphan. She began life as a domestic servant. But she was'naturally drawn to the alleviation of human suffering. She was a devout Roman Catholic, and under the direction of the sisters of charity she became a hospital nurse. While serving in this field one of her patients noted what good care she took of him, and made up his mind that he would have her all to himself. He proposed marriage and was accepted. But the husband died in their first years of married life. Her only child died, too, and Margaret was left alone to do her life work. She managed the dairy in an orphan asylum awhile. Then she opened a little eating house. But one feature of her career is singular. AYith all the money she amassed she never entered on any enterprise without a benevolent motive at the back She had noted how the Mi-sissippi steamboat labor ers, ''deck hands" they are called, were swindled out of their money, and how they stupefied themselves with whisky and then about boozing kens till they were pushed out. Margaret thought she could do them some good. So she opened the little shop where river laborers could get a cup of good coffee and a roll for the merest trifle. It is not on record that she ever succeeded in reforming the deck hands to any great extent, but she did build up in time a great manufacturing business. She erected a steam cracker bakery, a building several stories in height. Her wagons supplied bakers' goods to the city. I have seen them myself. On the out side were the words: "Margaret's Bread and Crackers." At first she drove her own bread cart about the city. Money rolled in, and she might easily have died a millionaire. à MARGARET'S MONUMENT. But most of all the orphans had her care. She knew what it was to he left without father or mother, and get no education, not even enough to read. Iu the course of her life she either founded or aided eleven orphan a-ylums, Catholic and Protestant, black and white alike. In February, 1882, this good woman died. Never was there such a funeral in Louisiana Bo far as I kuow she was the only woman in America that has ever been buried with pub lic honors. The governor and an ex-gov ernor of the state were among her pall bear ers. Delegations from her eleven or phan asylums attended the burial. The New Orleans fire department were in the procession. The bells all over the city tolled as the cortege moved along the streets. When it reached the chambe r of commerce an un-beard of thing happened. The mem bers paused iu their gabble, and with one ac cord came dow n to the sidewalk, and stood reverently with uncovered heads while the body of Margaret w as carrie 1 past them to its rest. She is buried in St. Louis cemetery. The day after her death the building of the monument, shown in the picture, was pro posed. It has been erected by the contribu t ons of all classes of people iu Louisiana and New Orleans, even to the newsboys. All alike reverence 1 Margaret. It was unveiled T uly 'J, 1>>S4. The statue stands in the square, opposite the orphan asylum she helped to build. It represents h *r. not idealized, like a classic ligure, but far more worthily, broad, plain and with the common dress she wore, her am' encircling one of the orphans whomsne loved. "And so she died, and so the people set Amid their heroes—w ith a proud consent— This single woman-crowned monument. And carved thereon the one word. 'Mar garet. h' SHAH Kjv<* The IVrjt of tbs T-nveler Is Hard. [Burdette in Brooklyn Eagle. 1 When w? reacbe l Toi -io I looki1 at mv watch. We had larely ten miu utes to get across to the Union depot and catch tha Cana la Southern train. It looked like an impossibility, but to an old traveler tber > is no s ich word a; f, a, 1, e. 1 to;s; 1 mv boy in o the nearest carriage, buried mv i t -ria after him, rau down tue plat f rm lii:j a m id man. tore the ch/cts from m/ I nggige (I always call my rtom my apartments, the check on mv trunk my checks, and my family physician mv physi cians; there is so much embonpoint and coup d'etat in a piu"al), drag tel in/ trunks to the carriage myself, aal shouted to tha astonished hackman: "An ex.'ra dollar il we catch the Canada Southern!' How that man lid drive. Rackety swat over the pavement; of Tolelo, over a telegraph messenger boy on this corner and within an inch of going over a wheelbarrow at a crossing, but the wheelbarrow, being alone, was more active than toe messenger boy, and so got out of the way. Over the bridge like an arrow, in spite of legal pro hibition, down to the Lslan 1 house, and here we are. I thrust the nackmau's pay uni extra fee into his bon>st palm, had the trunksoff the carriage before be could touch it, and whirled it up to the baggage room. *■' 'droit!'' I y.lied. "Lively now—have tick't in min't!'' Awav 1 flew to the ticket f fflee, knocking people right and left, fol lowed by the inspiring cheers and pleasant remarks of the multitude "Tick't, Troitl" I shouted to the ageat, snatch *d up my ticket, threw down my money, ran away without my change and found my trunk checked. I seized it by th * remaining han dle, yanked it off the truck, and, hauling my now affrighted family along with the other hand, I flew toward the track where the Canada Southern should be standing. Eut a quiet, grave-looking man with a rail wav uimorin on stopped me. X 4 as rSj & Pound to catch the Canada Southern. "Where are you going? ' he said, quietly. "Detroit!" I yelled. "G'out o' my way, r I'll ride ye down." "But vour train is not ready," he sail, persuasively: "it doesn't start for nearly an hour ye.. You should not get so excited. The baggage master will take care of that trunk and 1 w ill call you when the train is readv. The waiting room is just at that further e id of the station." Any man's watch is liable to run down and s-op, bu^ that is no reason why tha peopl- wao loiter about railway stations should be fool;. There is too much broad, glarin : publicity about our American rail way stations. There should be more privacy, more exclusiven ?s;. At every ra il way sta tion where pe >ple of the upper da-s-es are liable to be misled as to the standard and running time of inactive watches, and thus be led into somewhat extravagant action, there should be a long, deep, dark hole, about til teen miles long, extending under the nearest range of mountains, for the citi zens of the upoer classes to retire into until the coarse Ularity of the vulgar crowd should have expended itself. A Maryland Fditor Gets Mail. [Wicomice Constitutionalist.] A yellow-backed pirate named Jim Cum mings, who works for Sam Hardacre, near Millville, came to town last Saturday, and, wiii.- drunk a: Creswj.l s grocer/, made some rema-ks about ourselves as we were passing up the street with our young est daughter. He was soured because vve turned .hint over two weeks ago and his crowd that took the lvnchpin out of old man Parson's buggy at the Goose creek meeting. When he spoke his in suitin'» froth Hanberry Davis took it tip, and. in a row which followel, he struck the gorilla a surbimler on the jaw which knocked him out from between his wool suspenders and loosenel six ot hi? teeth. He had Davis ar rested by Marshal Billings, and the mayor levied a fine of §10, which we paid for him as soon as we learned the facts. We intend to show up th? whisky yahoo; from the Grose creek neighborhood .who try to run this town Sacurdays; and, by the way Han Davis is a caudulate lor town mar shal. Le is the man for that jab. He Held the Sheep, Poor Thing. [Detroit Free Press.] He came into a butcher shop and asked for half a pound of mutton chops. It was unmistakable that his business necessitated bis calling "e-a-s-h" quite frequently. As the man of the cleaver sawed, cut and chop ped, the purchaser remarked in a week kneed voice: "Aw, I was a butcher once myself." "Y'ou a butcher!" said the sausage com pounder contemptuously. "Y'es, aw. You see, I went into the busi ness, aw, and they first told me to hold a ßheep down on the floor, don't you know, and, gracious, they stuck a kuife right into the poor beast's throat. I, aw, fainted, and, when I came to, I left the liawwid busine-s, aw, and now I sell dry goods." Just as he got his purchase the door was opened and the sudden draft blew him out on the street. Unusual Quiet. [Rehoboth Sunday Herald.] "Isn't my photograph excellent." said *a young wife to her husband. "Wed, my dear," replied he, "I think there is a little too much repose about the mouth." Norristown Herald: A TTew Jersey weather prophet says January will be an "extremely cold month." This will be very disappoint ing to those persons who hoped that January would be an extremely hot month, as usual Bill N TEARS, IDLE TEARS. >je Meets a Lady AVho Weeps "OÏ , So Easily." ! Boston (5 lobe. ] The train was crowded somewhat, and sc 1 sat in the seat with a woman who got aboa-d at Minkin's Siding. I noticed as we pulled out of Minkin's Siding that this women raised the window so that she could lid adieu to a man in a dyed mustache. I do rot know whether he was her dolce far nieute, or her grandson by her second husband. I know that if he had been a relative of mine, however, I would have cheerfully concealed the fact. She waved a little 2x6 handkerchief out of the window, said "Good-by," allowed a fresh zephyr from Cape Sabine to come in and play a xylophone interlude on my spinal column, and then burst into a paroxysm o 1 damp Lot tears. I hail to go into another car for a moment, and when I returned a pugilist from Chicago had my seat. When I travel I am uniformly courteous, especially to pugilists. A pugilist w hb has started out as an obscure l»oy with no money, no friends, and no oue to practice on except his wife or his mother; with no capital aside from his bare hands; a man who has had to fight his way through life, as it were, and yet who has come out of obscurity and attracted the attention of the authorities and won the good will of those with whom he came in contact, will always find me cordial and pacific. Bo I allow ed this self-made man, with the broad, high, intellectual shoulder blades, to sit in iny seat with his feet on my new and expensive traveling bag, while I sat with the tear-bedewed memento from Min kin's Siding. She sobbed several more times, then hove a sigh that rattled the windows iu the car, and sat up. I asked her if I might sit by her side for a few miles and share her great sorrow. She looked at me askance. I did not resent it. She allowed me to take the seat, and I looked at a paper for a few moments so that she could look me over through the corners of her eyes. I also scrutinized her lineaments some. She was dressed up considerably, and when a woman dresses up to ride iu a railway train she advertises the fact that her intel lect is lieginning to totter on its throne. People who have more than oue suit of clothes shoifld not pick out fine raiment for traveling purposes. She seemed to want to convei-se after a while, and as she began on the subject of literature, picking up a volume that had been left on her seat by the train boy, en titled. ''Shadowed to Skowhegan and Back; or, The Child Fiend: price $2," we drifted on pleasantly into the broad domain of let ters. Incidentally I asked her what authors she read mostly. "Oh, I don't rememlier the authors so much as I do the books," said she, "I am a great reader. If I should tell you how much I have read, you wouldn't believe it." I said I certainly would. I had frequently been called upon to believe things that would make the ordinary rooster quail. If she discovered the true inwardness of this Anglo-American "Jewdesprit," she re frained from saying anything about it. "I read a good deal," she continued, "and it keeps me all strung up. I weep, oh, so easily." Just then she lightly laid her hand 5*1 »V/ 1 I*. m 'is ""I weep, oh, so easily ." a ""I weep, oh, so easily ." on my arm and I could see that the tears wire rising to her eyes. I felt like asking her if she had ever tried running herself through a clothes wringer every morning I I did feel that some one ought to chirk her up, so I asked her if she remembered the ad vice of the editor who received a letter from a young lady troubled the same way. She stated that she couldn't explain it, but every little while, without any apparent cause, she would shed tears, and the editor asked her why she didn't lock up the shed. We conversed for a long time about litera ture, but every little while sbe would get me into deep water by quoting some author or work that I had never read. I never realized what a hopeless ignoramus I was till I heard about the scores of books that had made her shed the scalding, and yet that I had never, never read. When she looked at me with that far-aw ay expression in her eyes, and with her hand resting lightly on my arm, in such a way as to give the gorgeous two-karat Rhinestone, from Pittsburg, full play, and told me how such works as "The New-Made Grave; or, the Twin Murderers," had cost her many and many a copious tear, I told her I was glad of it. If it be a blessed boon for the student of such books to weep at home and work up their honest perspiration into scald ing tears, far bç it from me to grudge that poor boon. I hope that all who may read these lines, and w ho may feel that the pores of their skin are getting torpid and sluggish, owing to an inherited antipathy tow ard physical exertion, and who feel that they would rather work up their perspiration into woe and shed it iu the shape of common red-eyed weep, will keep themselves to this poor boon. People have different ways of enjoying themselves, and I hope no one will hesitate about accepting this or any other poor boon that I do not happen to be using at the time. Bill Nye. A Deal In Apaclie Scalps. [Wall Street News ] Whib a New York furrier was in Omaha the other day he was sought out by a stranger with a proposition for a trade. Said he, "Several counties in Arizona are offering from §50 to §100 each for Indian scalps. I'll pay you §20 apiece for from 100 to 5UU. I've got a genuine scalp here, and all you have to do to imitate it is to scrape a calfskin, cut it into suitable pieces, and pull a top-knot through each one of them. One horse's tail will make twenty-two Apache top-knots, and a calfskin w ill cut seventy-five scalps. Ehl Do you tumble ?' As there has been no sud den increase in the demand for calfskins and horsetails in this locality, it is probable the furrier declined the contract. f n THE PETROLEUM INDUSTRY. Tile Transformation That lias Taken 1'larc in This Fickle Business. [SjM-i-Ial Correspondence, j Pittsburg, Dec. JO.—The time has not quite arrived to write the rise and fall of the petroleum iudu-try, though in the estimation of the longest heads out fcis way it has seen its best (iays and already begun to decline. There are many causes for it, the most po tent probably being the utilization of nat ural gas. The ad vent of the ele ctric light it was expect ed would injure the kerosene trade, but instead of which it has developed it. The contrast lie twe en the two lights has resulted in an endeavor to increase the power of the weaker one, which can only' be ^ fl I I // done by increasing f |, L // the amount of oil col. e. l drake. consumed. The improvements in the utiliza tion of natural gas are <-o many and so rap idly overtaking one another that it w-ill not be a great while before it rivals the liest artificial gas in its illuminating quality, while as a fuel it already cannot be excelled. In producing light a better result can be ob tained even now by generating steam power and turning the latter into electric lights than by burning the product of refined petro leum. When the history of petroleum comes to be written, were it faithfully recorded, it would be appaling in ©he wretchedness it has produced. This dark side will likely be never told, but to those who have watched the whirl of the oil craze for the last quarter of a century it is a question whether it has not been a curse instead of a blessing to those engaged in it The avarice and envy, together with the gambling spirit which it infused into every one even in the slightest degree connected with it, has resulted only in misery and pov erty in the end. Of course this is a misan thropic view of it, but it is shared by the majority of the people in this section that have "followed oil " We need nc better exemplar of this fact than the history of "Colonel ' E. L Drake, the borer of the first oil well. He was a bright, brainy fellow, who, had he contin ued at railroading or even in the dry goods business, in wh eh he had been engaged prior to his venture in the direction of oil, would have made his mark and retired wealthy. He was a man of more than average business capacity; he struck what was consid ered one of the "bonanzas" of modern times. The speculative craze seized him aad he died a beggar. m X THE OLD DRAKE WELL. The story of Drake s first well has been often told, and is recalled now through the efforts being made to erect a monument to Drake. It is but t#quarter of a century ago since petroleum was sold at twenty-five cents a bottle under the name of "Seneca Oil" or "American Oil." To-day it is dear at a dol lar a barrel. Its value at that time lay in its remedial use as a cure for sprains, rheuma tism, beside the mange and various horse troubles. It oozed through the ground and was collected in pits or drains dug to receive it or was skimmed in the form of scum from the surface of the water. A spring of it was found, from which Oil creek obtained its namS: A company was formed in 1854, under the name of the Rock Oil com pany, to gather this oil and endeavor to re fine it and compete with the coal oil, which had then become an important industry. The company did not prosper, and the prop erty fell into the hands of a New Haven con cern, the Seneca Oil company, which sent CoL Drake, an old railroad conductor, out to ex amine the property and report. This was in 1857. In 1858 he conceived the idea of bor ing an artesian well, and on Aug. 28, 1859, after boring sixty-nine and a half feet, part of the distance through rock, he struck sand that he found contained oiL During the progre-v- of the boring he was troubled with a fli y THE PITTSBURG OIL EXCHANGE. '«A, i I ■RADFORD OIL EXCHANGE. The rise and fall of Pithole City illustrate* this point. In January, 1865, oil was first struck there, which promised an unprece dented yield. In a few months a city of 20,900 people were gathered there, fairly crawling over one another in the icramble for wealth. With these jieople came banks, hotels, churches, school houses and the inevitable saloons. During the fall of that year its jiost office did the l argest business of any in Pennsj vauia outside of Philadelphia and Pittsburg. Within one year its riches showed signs of giving out and its popula tion began to flee. In two years it was a deserted settlement and to-day odc cfii scarce find a building of any kjnd to mark its site. The accompanying map shows at a glance the lines of pipes through which oil is pumped through from the wells to the ship ping points at New Y r ork, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Buffalo and Cleveland. These pipes are owned by the United Pipe lines, a corporation controlled by the National Transit company, a corporation that under takes the storage and transportation of oil. This method of transporting oil in bulk is carried to this extent that in many of the principal cities connected with the oil region by pipe lines the fluid is retailed to the con sumer without ever having been held in a barrel. In New York city and neighbor hood it is a common thing to see immense iron tanks containing kerosene drawn through the streets from which the con sumer buys the oil This tank has been filled at the refinery, the crude petroleum be ing received there through pipe; direct from the wells. This plan is about to be carried out in Liverpool and other foreign seaports. Ocean steamers are being fitted up with im mense oil tanks, into which the refined oil is pumped and e aptied into tanks on the other water filling the vie l; this he overcame by lining tha sides with au iron tuba inside of which the drill worked. This well of Drake's starte! flowing with oil at the rate ot e 1 '»'"» orten barrels a day, and by introducing a pump it* produciiou was increased to fifty barrais, worth on an average §21 per barrel. Then began the oil excitement, which most of us remember.- No mining craze ever compar d with tae ft ry wit i hieh it took hold ol its victims. .\ny one coiild se« :hat a welt that gushed forth its wealth at the rate of §l,0t)i) per day was like a foun tain iu fairyland. Men's heads became turned and the process of twisting them around from the normal has continued ever ;inee. Property that heretofore hail been told in tracts of one hundred acres was now told by the square foot. Again a trans 'oruiatiou has taken place, aad thin same property is in the market "for a song " The extent of the trailing done in this city may be judged from the appearance of the principal building in which the business is transacted. There are very handsome build ings elsewhere throughout the oil region in which the business of buying and selling oil is carried on. The most notable of those are at Bradford, Titusville and O.l City. The New York Consolidated Stock and Petroleum Bxehange has not as yet erected a building for its own use, though it hns done a business this year of ai out 6,000,(XX),000 barrels. There are so many cities in this region that lave gone up anil down like the proverbial rocket and stick that it is considered risky business to invest overmuch confidence in it. as a reliable busiue«, hence the hesitancy with which buildings davoted to the lu -iness were erected. i pumped and e aptied into tanks on the other side of the ocean. From them pipe lines may be constructed to carry it across the country, thus bringing the labor used in the handling of this product down to the mini mum. 1 OrfACFC«. NEW 0li*n_____ YORK LiCbOvC. I______ / »Hx bvj*.'-'' 1 -x oiCnC 'civ "V MAP OF PIPE LINE«. This is one reason why the oil businesgtnay be sai l to have reached its highest develop mène as an important industry. The ten dency from this time forward will be to employ less an 1 less labor. And this fact has received further impetus by the applica tion of natural gas to the furnaces in the oil region, 'ibis does away w th tha handling of coal and ashes, so that to all the boilers fitted in this way it is only necessary to add the control of another valve to the duties of the engineer. Thus has the old glorv* d/parte l from the oil li -Ids. Where once it was al! bustle and smoke, an l great communiti- s of laborers, it has b-come quiet and almost deserted, while the oil keeps flowing on in a larger stream than ever. . A. J. Bothwf.ll. How to Borrow Without Losing Reputa tion. [New York Tribune.] An old editor of Harper's told me once that just after he came to New Y'ork he got so hard up that he needed a hundred dollars very badly. He did not dare ask Fletcher Harper, who was a great friend of his. for so small an amount as a hundred dollars, through fear he might be looked on as a petty Is grower and sort of dead beat. Bo he walked in on his friend and said: "Fletch, I want §500. Can you let me have it!" The response was, "Certainly." He got the moue}', put s4;a) of it in the bank and when he scraped together the hundred he spent, he paid it ail back. Years afterward he asked Harper what the latter would have done if he had asked for the hundred dollars. Fletcher said he should probably have let him have it, but should have kept out of his way thereafter. "I thought so," said Seaver and then he told Harper what he had done." j "BEVARE OF THE VIDDERS." An Over-Con fill I tig ONI Reim is $ham*> fully Moltl. [New York Sun.] Oxcoose me if 1 shed some tears, Und wipe my nose away; Und if a lump vos in my treat, It comes ut) dere to shtay. My sadness I shall now unfoliit, Und if dot tale of woe Don'd do some Dutchmans any good Den I ilou'd pelief I know. YV>u see I fall my self in love, Und effery night I goes Across to Brooklyn by dot bridge, All dressed i n Sun * ay clothes. A vidder womans vos tier brizf Her husband he( vos dead ; Und all alone in dis 3 colt vorldt Dot vidder vos. —— » i u u —^ sho saidt. ''Dee Prize." Her heart for love vos on der pine, Und dot I like to see; Und all der time I hoped dot heart Vos on der pine for me. I keeps a butcher shop, you know, Und in a shtocking stout, I put avay my gold und bills, Und no one gets him oudt. If in der night some bank cashier Goes skipping off mit cash, I shleep so soundt as nefer vas, Vhile rich folks go to shmash. I oourt dot vidder sixteen month». Dot vidder she courts me, Und vhen I says: "Vill you be minef She says: "You bet I'll be!" "Vill be minef' Ve vos engaged—oh! blessed fact! I squeeze dot dimpled hand; Her head upon my shoulder lays, IS bust like a bag of sand. "Before der wedding day vos set," •.UT SheJwhispeVs in my ear, _ "I like to say I haf to use Some cash, my Jacob, dear "I owns dis house und two big famns, Und ponds und railroad shtoek; Und up in Yonkers I bossess A grand, big peesness block "Der times vos dull, my butcher boy, Der market vos no good, Und if 1 sell"—I squeezed her hant To show I understood. Next day—oxcoo e my briny tears— Dot Dot shtocking took a shrink ; I counted out 1,200 in Der cleanest kind o' chink. Und later, by two days or more, Dot vidder shlopes avay; Und leaves a note behindt for me In which dot vid der say : Ojccoose mu tears. "Dear Shake: "Der rose vos redt, Der violet blue— Yon see I've left, UnJ you're left, too!" Presence of Mi nil in Difficulty. [Chicago Herald.] "So Vanderbilt is dead," said the freight brakeman. "I saw Billy once, and at that time I wished I hadn't. It was when I was a brakeman on the Central. One day we were shifting cars at a little station near Syracuse, w hen a special car, with locomo tive attached, came in and stood on the main track near where we were at work. Special cars were not uncommon, and we didn't pay much attention to this one. Pretty soon I was making a coupling, but the infernal link wouldn't tit. 1 tried it two or three times, and the engineer got out of patience backing up for me so many times, and I begun to get mad myself. Then I gave it another trial, but still it wouldn't work, and then I took that link and gave it a sling into the creek, and swore in the bar gain. In about ten seconds I heard some one calling me, and, looking up, saw a piug-hatted, side-whiskered mail standing on the platform of the special car. I knew him as soon as I laid eyes on him—it was Billy Van lerbilt. '§ee hero, young man,' says he, 'I've been watching you. Do you know whose property you have been throw ing into the creek?' 'Yes, sir,' says I, trembling ,.'-ii expecting to be bounced the next minute. 'Well, whose was it;' 'The Pennsylvania railroad's, sir,' says I. 'Oh,' replied Vanderbilt, an l then he went into his car and shut the door. I wasn t bounced, either. " Resignation. [Chicago Tribune.] A good old deacon iu central Illinois, who lost all his big drove of swine by hog chol era, took the matter so lightly that his wife felt called upon to reproach hi.n. "Dea con," said she, "i should think you would be ashamed of yourself. It loots to me as though it was a judgment sent on you by the Lord." "My dear," said the good old man, "if the Lord wants to take out his judgment in three-cent pork, into which I oulil have to be pouring good thirty-cent Corn if they lived, let us not grumble." 0 Economy. [Boston Globe.] Jones—Smith, you are the k.zitst man I ever saw. Smith—Correct. Jones—They say you deep fifteen hours out of every twenty-four. Smith—Correct. Jones—What do you do it for? Smith—In order to economize. You see it costs nothing to sleep, hut the moment you wake ud expenses beeiu.