OCT 31 1903
VOL. a-No. 9.
rOKTLAXD, OREGON, MAY, 1878.
OREGON SCENERY.
It" is, perhaps, tOO common an error
to speak of our own country as b.ing
destitute of those scenes that are 1
interesting to the tourist, or that
awaken the multitude of tender emo
tions which the contemplation of the
vast, the ancient, or the beautiful, in- i
variably inspire. It is true that we j
may not be able to point to ivy-robed I
ruins resplendent in story, massive ca-'
thedrals with age that are hoary, castles
enshrined in weird legends so gory,
nor tombs that recall petty tyrant's vain
glory, and yet We have simple scenes,)
replete with pathos, that are as potent j
to purify the mind and elevate the)
soul, us those in foreign lands,
A few weeks ago I was riding along j
the lordly Columbia. On my left were
frowning, black, precipitous bluffs,'
whose plumes of graceful fir swayed i
softly to and fro in the morping breeze J
on my right the placid waters of the i
noble river were gliding as silently and
serenely toward the Pacific as the
stream of Time to the ocean of Eter
nity. A turn in the trail revealed a
small clearing and the ruins of an old
log cabin. It was a pensive picture por
trayed on the canvas of civilization by
the pencil of Decay. The corners of
the cabin were crumbling beneath the
heavy hand of Time. The roof had
fallen in, and moss grew upon the door
step. The chimney was a mouldering
mass of shapeless ruin. Every vestige
of man's presence was fast disappear
ing, though this had been once a hu
man habitation a happy home. Now
silence ami solitude swayed their scep
tre over its desolation. Still the scene
was sublime in its silence, like a passion
strongly felt that finds not utterance,
and suggestive in its solitude as the
contemplation of the death of Love $r
the., grave of Hope. The sparkling
spring yet bubbles from the hne of t1c
blufl. The remains of a rude reservoir
are still there; but the path leading to
it, once trodden by the feet of youthful
innocence, Is now no longer percepti
ble. The fragrant thyme, planted by
the hand of affection, struggles bravely
with the indigenous vegetation, us if
determined that uncouth nature shall
not resurnV unquestioned sway in that
spot made sacred by human toil. The
silent teaching of that sad scene was
full of significance,
Riding on, I came upon a rude bar
rier of rocks, reaching from the river
to the Muff, At a little distance from
it was a similar barricade; both were
dilapidated. Had the broken barriers
and the deserted home the same sad
history? Had the former proved in
sufficient to protect the latter ? The
fearful Indian tragcilics of 1S55 arc still
fresh iu Ihcntimln of many, and their
recollection provokes an ardent ud-uiit-AtliMi
jfor thcindaunlcUf nud un
ostentatious heroism of our early pio
neersthose vanguards of civilization
and Christianitywhose noble deeds
are for ever embalmed in the fragrant
aronTK of a people! gratitude ami
praise. GOV1
A LES80N WORTH HKKIMNt;.
The recent failure of the Dime
Savings Hank, at Sacramento, should
serve as a caution to our people ,m to
where they deposit money. This Sac
ramento institution seems to have been
a sort of a retail concern, doing a little
in brokerage, lauds, stocks, etc., and
now that the bottom hns dropped out
the people there lose about $. 5,00a
We have a very similar concern here,
which also advertises to receive and
pay interest on deposits. Suppose they
failed, how much on the dollar rould
be realized on their heavily mortgaged
real estate ?
.;.,;-.-. - fl ' ; " - , - ; ...... , . ,i'
THE PLAZA AT SACRAMENTO, CAUPOM A.