I am a little boy seven years old. Papa reads the stories to us. We
want the man to write about Toby Tyler some more; and Jimmy Brown
is the "boss" boy.
There are lots of wells here, with deep holes and high derricks.
They get oil out of the holes, and send it to the 'finery, and
they make it into 'finery oil for the stores, and they sell it to
the people to burn in lamps. They get thick par'fine out of the
wells too, and the men come with pails and kegs, and sell it to
the factory, and they make candy and chewing-gum out of it for
stores to sell to boys and girls. I am tired. That's all.