I have been occupied in the petroleum region of Pennsylvania since 1860, have seen all the wonderful development of the oil wells, and was very much interested in contrasting the Austrian ozokerite and petroleum industry with the American. It is a good illustration of the difference between the lower class of Poles and Jews and the Yankee. Borislau, after twenty years' work, was unimproved, dirty, squalid, and brutal. It contained one school house, but no church nor printing office. None of its streets were paved, and, in the main road through the town, the mud came up to the hubs of the wagon wheels for over a mile of its length. In places, plank had to be set up on edge to keep the mud out of the houses, which were lower than the road. It contained numerous shops, where potato whisky was sold to men, women, and children. It depends on a dirty, muddy creek for its supply of water. Its houses were generally one-story, built of logs and mud. On the other hand, Oil City, a town of the same age and size, contained eight school houses (one a high school building), twelve churches, and two printing offices. It has paved streets, which, in 1863, were as deep with mud as those in Borislau in 1879. It has no whisky shops where women and children can drink. Many of its houses are of brick, two, three, four, and five stories high. Its water works cost one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. All this has been done since 1860, when it did not contain forty houses. I saw in the market place of Borislau women standing ankle deep in the mud, selling vegetables. One woman really had to build a platform of straw, on which to place a bushel of potatoes; if the straw foundation had not been there, the potatoes would have sunk out of sight. Borislau is three miles from Drohobich, a city of thirty thousand inhabitants; between the two places, in wet weather, the road was impassable. For a third of the way, it was in the bed of the creek; and I had to wait a day for the water to fall so as to navigate it in a wagon. On inquiring why they did not improve the road, I found the same difficulty as the Arkansas settler encountered with his leaky roof; when it rained he could not repair it, and when it was dry it did not need repair: so with the road to Borislau. Ozokerite (from the Greek words, "Ozein," to smell, and "Keros," wax) is found in Turkistan, east of the Caspian Sea; in the Caucasian Mountains, in Russia; in the Carpathian Mountains, in Austria; in the Apennines, in Italy; in Texas, California, and in the Wahsatch Mountains, in the United States. Commercially, it is not worked anywhere but in Austria; although, I believe, we have in Utah a larger deposit than in any other place. I made two journeys to examine the deposits in the Wahsatch Mountains. For a distance of forty miles, it crops out in many places, and on the Minnie Maud, a stream emptying into the Colorado, I found a stratum of sand rock, from ten to twelve feet thick, filled with ozokerite.