OIL-WELLS AT LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.
Los Angeles is a genuine California town, with oil-wells as an extra feature. Derricks cluster on Belmont Hill, State street, Lakeshore avenue, Second street, and leading thoroughfares. A six-inch line conveys crude to the railroads and car-tanks are shipped over the Southern Pacific and Santa Fé routes. At least one of the preachers seems to be drilling “on the belt,” if a tourist’s tale of a prayer he offered be true. Here it is:
“O, Lord! we pray that the excursion train going east this morning may not run off the track and kill any church-members that may be on board. Thou knowest it is bad enough to run oil-wells on Sunday, but worse to run Sunday excursions. Church-members on Sunday excursions are not in condition to die. In addition to this, it is embarrassing to a minister to officiate at a funeral of a member of the church who has been killed on a Sunday excursion. Keep the train on the track and preserve it from any calamity, that all church-members among the excursionists may have opportunity for repentance, that their sins may be forgiven. We ask it for Christ’s sake. Amen.”
With juicy Ohio, plump West Virginia, nutritious Indiana, succulent California, appetizing Texas and many other luscious bivalves to keep fat Pennsylvania company, there is no lack of oysters in the stew.
SOME OF THE BOYS.
Michael Murphy, of “mystery” fame, lives in Chester county.
William L. Lay, founder of South Oil-City, died last winter.
W. J. Welch, a respected citizen, who operated at Bullion and Bradford and for years belonged to the Oil-City Exchange, died in 1897.
Ruel A. Watson, an active broker, as he lay gasping for breath, raised his head, asked an attendant “What’s the market?” sank back on his pillow and expired. “The ruling passion is strong in death.”