there is Natural Gas in Deep Rock Gulley_

BY ED. MOTT

"I see by the papers, Squire," said the Old Settler, "that they're
a-finding signs o' coal ile an' nat'ral gas like sixty here an' thar in
deestric's not so terrible fur from here, an' th't konsekently land they
usety beg folks to come an' take offen their hands at any price at all
is wuth a dollar now, jist for a peep over the stun wall at it. The
minute a feller finds signs o' ile or nat'ral gas on his plantation he
needn't lug home his supplies in a quart jug no more, but kin roll 'em
in by the bar'l, fer signs o' them kind is wuth more an inch th'n a
sartin-per-sure grass an' 'tater farm is wuth an acre."

"Guess yer huggin' the truth pooty clus fer wunst, Major," replied the
Squire, "but th' hain't none o' them signs ez likely to strike anywhar
in our bailiwick ez lightnin' is to kill a crow roostin' on the North
Pole. Thuz one thing I've alluz wanted to see," continued the Squire,
"but natur' has ben agin me an' I hain't never seen it, an' that thing
is the h'istin' of a balloon. Th' can't be no balloons h'isted nowhar,
I'm told, 'nless thuz gas to h'ist it with. I s'pose if we'd ha' had gas
here, a good many fellers with balloons 'd ha' kim 'round this way an'
showed us a balloon raisin' ev'ry now an' then. Them must be lucky
deestric's that's got gas, an' I'd like to hev somebody strike it 'round
here some'rs, jist fer the sake o' havin' the chance to see a balloon
h'istin' 'fore I turn my toes up. But that's 'bout ez liable to happen
ez it is fer to go out an' find a silver dollar rollin' up hill an' my
name gouged in it."

"Don't ye be so consarned sure o' that, Squire," said the Old Settler
mysteriously, and with a knowing shake of his head. "I've been
a-thinkin' a leetle sence readin' 'bout them signs o' gas, b'gosh! I
hain't been only thinkin', but I've been a-recollectin', an' the chances
is th't me an' you'll see wonders yet afore we paddle over Jurdan. I'm
a-gointer tell ye fer w'y, but I hadn't orter, Squire, an' if it wa'n't
fer makin' ye 'shamed o' yerself, an' showin' th't truth squashed in the
mud is bound to git up agin if ye give her time, I wouldn't do it. Ye
mowt remember th't jist ten years ago this month I kim in from a leetle
b'ar hunt. I didn't bring in no b'ar, but I fotched back an up-an'-up
account o' how I had shot one, on' how th' were sumpin' fearful an'
queer an' amazin' in the p'formances o' that b'ar arter bein' shot.
Meb