Part 4

"We shall have occasion further on to furnish more particular information respecting the enormous yield of the wells around Baku, and therefore in this connection only incidentally allude to the statement of the geographer, who notices the 'seven hundred oil wells' which have all been drilled, none of which shows any signs of exhaustion, and says that 'immense loss is caused by the ignorance of those engaged in the trade. Thus a well at Balakhani, yielding 36,571 barrels of naphtha daily, ran waste for four weeks before reservoirs could be prepared to receive the oil.'"

A celebrated Russian scientist, after a visit to Baku in 1882, said: "Comparing results achieved in the two countries on one side and the average depth and total number of wells on the other, it may justly be stated that the natural petroleum wells of Baku, as far as our knowledge goes, have no parallel in the world."

The statement concerning the enormous yield from some of the wells of this district may well challenge our credulity. The following graphic description of the bursting forth of the great Droojba fountain is from an eyewitness and is given in the words of Mr. Charles Marvin: "In America there are over 25,000 petroleum wells; Baku possesses 400, but a single one of these 400 wells has thrown up as much oil in a day as nearly the whole of the 25,000 in America put together. This is very wonderful, but a more striking fact is that the copiousness of the well should have ruined its owners and broken the heart of the engineer who bored it after having yielded enough oil in four months to have realized in America at least one million sterling. In Pennsylvania that fountain would have made its owner's fortune. There is $50,000 worth of oil flowing out of the well every day. Here it has made the owner a bankrupt (on account of the damage done by the oil to surrounding property). These words were addressed to me by an American petroleum engineer as I stood alongside of the well that had burst the previous morning and out of which the oil was flowing twice as high as the Great Geyser in Iceland with a roar that could be heard several miles round. The fountain was a splendid spectacle and it was the largest ever known at Baku. When the first outburst took place the oil had knocked off the roof and part of the sides of the derrick, but there was a beam left at the top, against which the oil broke with a roar in its upward course and which served in a measure to check its velocity. The derrick itself was 70 feet high and the oil and the sand, after bursting through the roof and sides, flowed three times higher, forming a grayish-black fountain, the column clearly defined on the southern side, but merging into a cloud of spray thirty yards broad on the other. The strong southerly wind enabled us to approach within a few yards of the crater on the former side and to look down into the sandy basin from around about the bottom of the derrick, where the oil was bubbling and seething round the stalk of the oil-shoot like a geyser. The diameter of the tube up which the oil was rushing was 10 inches. On issuing from this the fountain formed a clearly defined stem about 18 inches thick and shot up to the top of the derrick, where, in striking against the beam, which was already half-worn through by friction, it got broadened out a little. Thus continuing its course more than 200 feet high, it curled over and fell in a dense cloud to the ground on the northern side, on a sand bank, over which the olive-colored oil ran in innumerable channels toward the lakes of petroleum that had been formed on the surface of the estate. Now and again the sand flowing up with the oil would obstruct the pipe or a stone would clog the course; then the column would sink for a few seconds lower than 200 feet, but rise directly afterward with a burst and a roar to 300 feet.... Some idea of the mass of matter thrown up from the well could be formed by a glance at the damage done on the south side in twenty-four hours; a vast shoal of sand was formed, which buried to the roof some magazines and shops and blocked to the height of six or seven feet all the neighboring derricks within a distance of 50 yards.... Standing on the top of the sand shoal we could see where the oil, after flowing through a score of channels from the ooze, formed in the distance or lower ground a whole series of oil lakes, some broad enough and deep enough in which to row a boat. Beyond this the oil could be seen flowing away in a broad channel toward the sea. This celebrated well, from the best estimates that could be made, gushed forth its oil treasure at the rate of 2,000,000 gallons a day from a depth of 574 feet."

About the year 1858 oil was discovered in Berksville, Tenn., on the Cumberland River. It was called rock oil and was hawked about the streets as a sure cure for rheumatism. About 1866 there was a company formed to develop the petroleum then so-called. The transportation from Berksville to market was so dear that the company was unsuccessful. At Glasgow, twelve miles from Cave City, Ky., near the Mammoth Cave, there was a well, and a transportation trough was suggested by Mr. Geo. Northrup, which was never used. But the suggestion finally led up to the subsequent use of pipe lines for transporting the oil. The first oil used was at the head-waters of the Cumberland River. It was sold in a crude state and was not then used for illuminating purposes. A few years afterwards, when it was discovered in Pennsylvania, it was so used, although still in a comparatively crude condition. The price of oil was then about thirty-five cents a gallon at retail, or to the consumer. It has since been sold to the consumer at as low a price as seven cents a gallon.

The Standard Oil Company owned the first pipe lines that transported oil from the Pennsylvania oil fields to the seacoast. It was then and still is the only company that has furnished the best oil product. The American oil is said to be at least twenty-five per cent. superior to the Russian article. It is of a higher grade and commands, naturally, a higher price.

It is assumed that there must still be great quantities of oil in the rock formation of the earth. The substance is absorbed by the rocks where deposited and does not evaporate, therefore it would long ago have disappeared by absorption were it not that there must be vast areas of it still lying ready to be pumped to the surface.

The odor of the petroleum first discovered was similar to that of the cheap bituminous coal. In this respect there has been a great improvement, although there is yet room for the removal of what, to many, is a very unpleasant odor.

In the fall of 1865 the narrator, Mr. George Northrup, at that time a young Chicago business man, still living in that city, believing that vast fortunes could be made in the oil regions, caught the fever, and ascertaining that new fields were being developed in Glasgow, Ky., went there with $5,000 capital, intending to invest it, fancying that amount would be sufficient to buy oil land and develop the same. Arriving at Cave City, on the L. & N. Railway, he was lucky enough to get a seat on the stage coach that ran to Glasgow. The only public inn was filled to overflowing, and he was obliged, with others, to sleep on the office floor of the hotel. Two miles before reaching the town the odor from the wells in operation affected him to such a degree that he confesses that no bouquet of flowers ever seemed to him sweeter. After dining at the hotel he was approached by a score of speculators who inquired of him whether he desired to invest in oil territory, which was held at from $25,000 to $200,000 an acre. He said that he would investigate the next day, became disgusted and immediately disappeared. The principal objection to the territory was the absolute absence of transportation. It was then that he suggested the use of a trough for the transportation of the oil to Glasgow, a distance of twelve miles, since which time it has been carried by pipe from the oil fields of Pennsylvania to the Atlantic Ocean.

THE BADGE OF CRUELTY.

CELIA THAXTER.

Is it not possible to persuade the women of Boston--the city we are proud to consider a centre of refinement, reason and intelligence--to take a decided stand in the matter of the slaughter of birds, and protect them by refusing to wear them? We are fostering a grievous wrong out of pure thoughtlessness. A bit of ribbon, or a bunch of flowers, or any of the endless variety of materials used by the milliner would answer every purpose of decoration, without involving the sacrifice of bright and beautiful lives. But women do not know what they are doing when they buy and wear birds and feathers, or they never would do it. How should people brought up in cities know anything of the sacred lives of birds? What woman, whose head is bristling with their feathers, knows, for instance, the hymn of the song-sparrows, the sweet jargon of the blackbirds, the fairy fluting of the oriole, the lonely, lovely wooing-call of the sandpiper, the cheerful challenge of the chickadee, the wild, clear whistle of the curfew, the twittering of the swallows as they go circling in long curves through summer air, filling earth and heaven with tones of pure gladness, each bird a marvel of grace, beauty, and joy? God gave us these exquisite creatures for delight and solace, and we suffer them to be slain by thousands for our "adornment." When I take note of the head-gear of my sex a kind of despair overwhelms me. I go mourning at heart in an endless funeral procession of slaughtered birds, many of whom are like dear friends to me. From infancy I have lived among them, have watched them with the most profound reverence and love, respected their rights, adored their beauty and their song, and I could no more injure a bird than I could hurt a child. No woman would if she knew it. The family life of most birds is a lesson to men and women. But how few people have had the privilege of watching that sweet life; of knowing how precious and sacred it is; how the little beings guard their nests with almost human wisdom and cherish their young with faithful, careful, self-sacrificing love! If women only knew these things there is not one in the length and breadth of the land, I am happy to believe, who would be cruel enough to encourage this massacre of the innocents by wearing any precious rifled plume of theirs upon her person.

* * * * *

Extract from Henry Ward Beecher's letter to Bonner on the death of the Auburn horse:

"Ought he not to have respect in death, especially as he has no chance hereafter? But are we so certain about that? Does not moral justice require that there should be some green pasture-land hereafter for good horses--say old family horses that have brought up a whole family of their master's children and never run away in their lives; doctors' horses that stand unhitched, hours, day and night, never gnawing the post or fence, while the work of intended humanity goes on; omnibus horses that are jerked and pulled, licked and kicked, ground up by inches on hard, sliding pavements, overloaded and abused; horses that died for their country on the field of battle, or wore out their constitutions in carrying noble generals through field and flood, without once flinching from the hardest duty; or _my_ horse, old Charley, the first horse that I ever owned; of racing stock, large, raw-boned, too fiery for anybody's driving but my own, and as docile to my voice as my child was?"

FINISHED WOODS.

ASH.--This name is applied to four species of forest trees. Most of the species are indigenous in North America, and some are found in Europe and Asia. The majority of these trees are large, affecting shady and moist places, banks of rivers, or marshes. The wood is tough and elastic, and is used by wheel-wrights, carriage-makers, and ship-builders. The Hungarian species is a favorite with cabinet-makers.

CHERRY.--The common cherry tree (_Prunus cerasus_) is of Asiatic origin, and is said by Pliny to have been introduced into Italy by Lucullus about seventy years before Christ, and about 120 years after was introduced into Britain. It is extensively cultivated in the timber regions of Europe and America. There are now more than 300 varieties. The wood is of a reddish hue, hard and tough, and much used by the cabinet-maker; the gum is edible, and the fruit is eaten either fresh or dried, and is used for preserves. The cherry is best propagated by grafting with seedlings of the wild cherry.

MAHOGANY.--This wood is a native of South America, Honduras, and the West Indies Islands, and among the most valuable of tropical timber trees. It is a large, spreading tree, with pinnate, shining leaves. The trunk often exceeds fifty feet in height, and four to five feet in diameter. The flowers, three or four inches long, are small and greenish-yellow, and are succeeded by fruit of an oval form and the size of a turkey's egg. The wood is hard, heavy and close-grained, of a dark, rich brownish-red color, and susceptible of a high polish. The collection of mahogany for commerce is a most laborious business, often involving the construction of a road through a dense forest, upon which the wood may be transported to the nearest water-course. The natives make this wood serve many useful purposes, as canoes and handles for tools. The largest log ever cut in Honduras was seventeen feet long, fifty-seven inches broad, and sixty-four inches deep, measuring 5,421 feet of inch boards, and weighing upward of fifteen tons.

Mahogany is said to have been employed about the year 1595 in repairing some of Sir Walter Raleigh's ships, but it was not used for cabinet work until 1720, when a few planks from the West Indies were given to Dr. Gibbons of London. A man named Wollaston, employed to make some articles from this wood, discovered its rare qualities, and it was soon in high repute.

WHITE WALNUT.--Walnut (the nut of Jupiter) is the common name of large nut-bearing forest trees of the genus _Juglans_, which, with the hickories, make up the walnut family, in which the trees have a colorless juice, a strong scented bark, and compound leaves. Three species of the walnut are found in the United States. The wood is hard, fine-grained, and durable.

BIRD'S-EYE MAPLE.--This is one of about fifty species, which are distributed over North America, Europe, Northern Asia, Java, and the Himalayas. While the wood of some of these is perfectly straight-grained, that in other specimens presents marked and often elegant varieties. The bird's-eye maple has its fibers so singularly contorted as to produce numerous little knots which look like the eye of a bird. It is a variety much valued for cabinet work of various kinds and interior finishing, while the straight-grained wood is used for making lasts, buckets, tubs, and other articles. It is also employed in ship-building.

OAK.--The English name of trees of the genus _Quercus_. Oaks are found over nearly the whole northern hemisphere, except the extreme north; in the tropics along the Andes, and in the Moluccas. All oaks are readily recognized by their peculiar fruit, consisting of an acorn with a cup which never completely encloses the nut. Some of the oaks furnish valuable timber. Tannic and gallic acids are obtained from them and the bark of many is useful for tanning. The nuts not only supply human food but that of various animals. The species vary so much that the genus is puzzling to botanists. The character of the wood is affected by the soil and locality in which the trees grow, lumbermen making distinctions not recognized by botanists. The white oak is long-lived, and specimens supposed to have been in existence before the settlement of the country are still standing. It is of slow growth, but does not cease to grow as it gets larger. The oak is much esteemed as an ornamental tree. The names of some of the varieties are: Post oak, burr oak, swamp oak, live oak, black oak, willow oak, scrub oak, scarlet oak, and California evergreen oak.

THAT ROOSTER.

BY ELANORA KINSLEY MARBLE.

He was a noble looking fowl, that rooster, and challenged my admiration by his unusual proportions, glossy plumage, and proud, exultant air.

As I paused in my walk to view him his sharp eyes were instantly fastened upon mine and a note of warning issued from his handsome throat. Away scampered the hens and young chicks, but the rooster, advancing a pace or two, lifted one foot menacingly, as if to defy my taking one step further.

"Dear, dear!" I exclaimed, "you make a great fuss over nothing. I only stopped to admire you and your family. Be assured I meant you no harm."

"_Gluck, gluck, gluck_," replied he angrily.

The spectacle of a champion standing on one leg and sending forth such a cry of defiance struck me as so ridiculous that I involuntarily burst into laughter.

Every fowl in the inclosure at the sound stood motionless.

"What was that?" questioned one motherly old hen of another.

It was a queer gibberish which she spoke, and most people would have failed to understand it, but to me--who had been listening to the voices of nature the whole day long, to whom the trees had whispered their secrets, the brooks had murmured their complaints, the birds had caroled their stories--to me the language of these feathered creatures was perfectly intelligible.

"I don't know, I'm sure," replied the other, "but somehow it sounded rather pleasant."

"Pleasant!" exclaimed a young white and buff hen, tossing her pretty head, "it appeared to me she was making fun of us."

"Will you be quiet, you cackling old hens?" roared Mr. Rooster, giving them a swift glance from one eye, while furtively watching me with the other. "What business is it of yours what the intentions of this intrusive person may be? I am the one to decide that question. What do females know about war, anyway, especially hens? If she means fight, why----"

"You'll run, no doubt, and hide behind your wives," I interrupted, feeling the old fellow to be a boaster. "I've a notion to scale the fence and see," I added mischievously.

He stepped back a pace or two in evident alarm.

"Never fear," I hastened to say. "Only cowardly hearts find pleasure in giving pain to innocent and defenseless creatures. My only object in stopping was to view your happy family and--and--in fact, Mr. Rooster, to interview yourself."

"Interview me?" he exclaimed. "Well, I never!" and filled with a sense of his importance the old fellow set up such a crowing that even a Jersey cow, munching grass by the wayside, paused to ruminate over what it might mean.

"A reporter," sneered the ill-natured young hen. "A woman reporter! How unnatural!"

"Louisa Mercedes," sharply cried the rooster, "how many times have I told you to bridle your tongue?"

"I'm not a horse," sulkily replied Louisa, "and what's more, I think if you would bridle your vanity it would be much more to your advantage. You want to do all the talking--and eating, too," she added in an undertone.

"She's but a young thing," loftily said Mr. Rooster, "and I have to overlook much of her insolence, you know. Another year will find her less spirited, like Georgiana and Marthena and Sukey over there. But let us resume our conversation. About what do you want to interview me?"

"First, I should like to know--why, do you intend to come out?" I interrupted as he moved nearer the fence.

"Oh, no; but it's just as well that the women folks don't hear all we have to say. They have such a disagreeable fashion of contradicting, you know, and such good memories, that when you're least expecting it up they'll drag some remark made months ago to clinch an argument against you. Females are such queer creatures--but I beg your pardon," he added apologetically, remembering my sex. "I forgot."

"How many wives have you?" I queried, beginning the interview.

"Well," marking with his claws in the sand as he named over Louisa Mercedes, Cassie, Maud, and a number of others. "I have, as near as I can figure it, about nine now."

"Now?" I repeated.

"Yes. I had more the first of the season, but the folks up at the house have the habit of coming through that door in the barn yonder when the minister comes to dinner and carrying off any member of my family which strikes their fancy. I don't know what they do with them, I am sure, but presently I hear a dreadful squawk or two in the woodshed, a flouncing around, and then all is still. It is very painful, I assure you," and Mr. Rooster, lifting one foot, pretended to wipe a tear from his sharp, dry eyes.

"You defend them, of course," I responded, endeavoring to appear solemn.

"Of course," swaggered the husband and father, "and sometimes I crow as loud as I can for an hour or so afterward."

"Crow?"

"Yes, to let the folks know _I'm_ not conquered."

"Haven't you," I asked, to hide my mirth, "a preference for some of your wives over others?"

Mr. Rooster gravely surveyed his household.

"No," he said reflectively, "no, I can't say that I have."

"But that white one," I said, "over yonder. She is so handsome."

"Maud, that white and silver Wyandotte, you mean. H'm, yes. She's _too_ handsome. I have a great deal of trouble with her."

"Trouble--how?"

"Oh, in various ways," with a frown. "She is too pretty to work, she thinks, and spends half her time in preening her feathers, polishing her toe nails, or, what's worse, staring through the fence over yonder at that proud, long-legged Mr. Shanghai. He's a foreign bird, you know, and thinks himself a deal better than a common American Plymouth Rock. There's going to be trouble between us yet, mark my words."

"You have no trouble, I suppose with the older ones," I returned, suppressing a smile.

"No, not in that way, ma'am. They quarrel a good deal about their children, however. Sukey--that brown and white Leghorn over there--thinks her children are veritable little angels with wings, and Georgiana--an out-and-out Plymouth Rock like myself--says they are little demons, her own brood being the little angels, you perceive. Twenty times a day I have to chastise the whole lot, mothers and all. Indeed," with a sigh, "I have a notion to turn them all out some day, just to have peace. All, except Jennie, the black Langshan. She's old to be sure, but a great comfort to me."

"Of course, of course," sneered a voice behind him. "Precious little spunk has Jennie, scratching around from morning till night that she may turn up a bug or worm for a lazy old curmudgeon like you. So you intend to turn me out on the cold, cold world some day, do you? Hm! we'll see about that."

"That's Jane," grinned Mr. Rooster, without turning around, "I hope they will choose her the next time they want one of my household, I really do."

"Oh, yes," sneered Jane, "you'll run away and squawk as you always do, and leave me to my fate."

"Run away," screamed Mr. Rooster making a dash for her, "I run away!"

"Fie, fie," I exclaimed, "you musn't show your valor by striking one of the weaker sex. You were intended to be her protector, you know."

I was here interrupted by a great commotion among the hens and chicks at the farther end of the enclosure.

"Only a quarrel, I presume," said he indifferently, "they can settle it among themselves, to-day."

"No, it seems to be something rather serious," I responded, and as I spoke a large cat succeeded in squeezing herself through the palings. Wildly ran the fowls about, cackling with fear.

"Hubby, hubby!" cried the hens.

"Papa, papa!" screamed the chicks.