Image provided by: Silverton Country Historical Society; Silverton, OR
About Torch of reason. (Silverton, Oregon) 1896-1903 | View Entire Issue (March 15, 1900)
n For th e Torch of R eason. T H E TORCH OF REASON, SIL V E R T O N , OREGON, M ARCH 15, 1900. Lies the famed \\ illam ette \ alley: Of the shivering city dweller; Gobbling at the u rch in ’s whistle. Glade, and plain, and stream , and And the cows, dehorned by freezing, But the day before Thanksgiving THE OREGON ELYSIUM . t i m her; Shiver in their cheerless stables, He is parted from his gobble; Through th e m idst a noble river, And the cock,with comb and wattles H e is ravaged of his plum age; BY F. 8. MATTESON. M ountain vale, and level prairie, Blackened by the freezing weather, He is singed, and draw n, and salted; H ills in gentle undulations, Hobbles on his frosted pedals He is stuffed with bread and spices, Make the landscape of th is valley. To his duties all the sum m er; W ith sweet chestnuts, sage and And the clim ate of this valley From theland of the Dakotas, oysters, estward to the great Is next unto th a t of Eden, From the frozen M innesota, Roasted brown in heated oven, Pacific, W here our first-created parents From the L ittle Big H orn valleys, Served with sauce of red cranberry -p, . . W here the storm fiend, Took their honeymoon, sans cloth- J n the country of W yoming, From the ocean’s sandy m arshes; in his raging, i ng* From the blizzard-swept M ontana, And the board with doughnuts Pounds the feet of rug Here the air is crisp and bracing— And the frozen lakes and rivers groaning, ged m ountains, Those who breathe it feel like grow- Of the far-off M anitoba. And historic pie of pum pkin, Lofty,rounded,grand,old m ountains, m g; From the glaciers of A laska Umber, crisp and frag ran t; yum , Clothed with ‘abies nohbis’ tim ber, And the man who drinks the w ater (T he only country in creation yum! S traig h t and tall its shapely col H ankers after beer no longer. j W here John Bull and Uncle Samuel .Just to please the d ain ty palate umns, Not an isolate«! people, For am usem ent move th e bound’ry), Of the average Oregonian. Lifted toward the sky above it. We have neighbors all around us: Come the frosted, coughing pil- Thus the tu rk ey 's life is rounded, In the deep and somber shadows To the northw ard, to the eastw ard, grims, And he finds his place in nature. To the southw ard, to the westw ard, Careful of their tingling bunions, Of the forest grand, prim eval, And thrice biessed be the genius ’Along the m urm uring pines and .Just across the “ekookum ” water, E ars and noses swathed in mufflers, Who invented turkey eating. Is our neighbor, H onolulu, hemlocks Like to any ancient m um m y, These and m any other features (F o r the fir is o f th at species), In the sunny Sandwich Islands, Fleeing from the king of terrors Of this kindly “ web-foot” region Roams the stealthy, prow ling pan N ative land of the K anacka, And the w inter’s hitter biting, Tem pt the dweller in the north- ther, W ho will vote at th e elections To this Oregon Elysium , land— Often falsely called a cougar, W hen he is ‘‘assim ilated”. To this sem i-tropic region, Aye,the grave-yard-coughing north- And, sometimes, a m ountain lion. F arth er on across the water The far-famed W illam ette V alley, land, Y et he only is a p an th er; Is our PhilJippino neighbors, W here the air is moist and balm y W here the snow lies deep in winter, He is ‘felis versicolor’: W here the fighting A guinaldo j Even in the coldest w inter; And the frost-rim e on the tim ber— Is h alf-brother to the cougar, Bids to Uncle Sam defiance. W here the sum m er sun is mellow; To untie his sw athing muffler, Second cousin to the lion, Him our soldier boys are after, W here the land is green with verd To relieve his burning bunions, But is neither one nor t ’ o th er— And we hope, in time, to catch him, ure; To escape from grave-yard cough Only just a common panther. T h at we m ay extend unto him W here the night’s refreshing cool ing, But the m agnifying h u n ter, “ Beneficent assim ilation”, ness To relieve his bones from aching, Ju st to get him self more glory, So he m ay become a voter Drives to roost the festive “ skeeter” L im ber up the stiffened hinges I f by chance he hap to kill one, And a Federal office-holder. And estops his bill-presenting. Of his 1 irnhs and spinal colum n, Gives him names he don’t belong to, Now he only is a “ rebel”— And the sleeper is not punctured And renew his health and vigor To im press the verdant listener O ne-half child and one-half devil! ' By his little boring-auger, (Possibly his g en eratio n ), W ith his prowess as a hunter: And our neighbor, the M ongolian, But in dream land ’rap tu red w an In this ozone-laden clim ate, So he makes the thieving panther Live3 a little farther over— ders, M aking all his life a beauty Out to he a fearful fellow. Ju st across “ our pond” of w ater, Snoring lustily till m orning. And a present joy forever. Yet a man he never tackles— W here “ young A m erica” goes H ere the melting, red straw berry So he sells his return ticket Not unless he’s fearful hungry, swimming. Ripens in the early sum m er To the first incautious buyer, And not then unless he th in k s he And the Ja p is living handy, (B etter fruit God could make, And to business goes rejoicing: Can surprise him at advantage. In his “ E ngland of the O rient”. doubtless, For his life is worth the living y\.nd most any nervy hunter T hus so nearly in the center But ’tis sure he never did it), While he stays in the W illam ette. And sh arp little dog can “ tree” h im ; Of the w orld’s great populations And the tem pting cherry blushes Here he can have m ental freedom, Then, with an y common rifle, Lies this favored land A rcadian— In the m iddle of the sum m er; Can enjoy it if he chooses, Q uickly “ bring to bag” his panther. B eautiful W illam ette V alley. H ere the luscious, big, red apples Can be bound by pious dogma, And the bear,the black m arauder, W e are not a boastful people, Ripen in the au tu m n sunshine, Can believe in spooks and goblins, Makes his home in the dark can N either are we proud and haughty, And the prune is in profusion, And -immaculate conceptions, yons, Though our favored situation H anging on the bending branches. Can regard him self a sinner— E atin g roots, and nuts, and berries, Is good cause for great rejoicing. Here the roses and the lilies Fool away his life at such things, F oraging upon the rancher, But we’re like the m aid Columbia Blossom gaily in the gardens; Or outgrow them if he tries to: “ Any old th in g ” he can gather. For, the poets say, she had a And the beans, and peas, and let Be broad-m inded if he knows how, B ut a bear his nam e is, always: Fellow-feeling in her bosom, tuce, Or live in ru ts deep and bounded; H u n ters m agnify his bigness, And her heart was large and tender, Grow beside the rank-breathed Depends on how his mind is built, M aking their ow n prowess greater. In the which we her resemble. onion; On the broad-gauge or the narrow ; Yet one needs a little caution F act,there’s nothing sm all about us; And the squashes and the melons, Also what his brains are m ade of, W hen he goes to tackle B ruin; And the latchstring of our cabin And the “ punkins” for T hanks- W hether of mud or grey m atter. For he is a doughty fighter, H angs out for all decent people. . giving, A nd in this there’s none to h in And not seldom makes it lively To the frozen, longing pilgrim s, Over ju s t beyond th e border, der: For a too incautious hunter. To the twisted with rheum atics, Spread their broad, green, leafy He m ay raise his children C hris But his name, for greater boasting, To the halt, the lam e, the blinded, shelters tian s— Is n ’t changed to w hat it is n ’t, And especially the sufferer O’er their callow fruitw hilegrow ing. N arrow -m inded,canting C hristians, And he keeps the nam e he’s known W hose ppendix verm iform is’ And thus our heritage, it goes Or progressive, thinking Lib’rals, by: F or the surgeon’s scalpel clam ors Along the banks of m any rivers. W ho’ll know more as they grow By it everybody knows him . Every tim e he goes to S alem — “ Deep fields of grain the reaper older. And the deer is in the open, W here he gets relief so quickly mows, Here he’ll find a school of Reason— And the elk is on the highlands: T h at he eith er dies rejoicing In meadow’s rich the heifer lows.” The only one now in existence— Only these, for size, are bragged on. Or lives to wish he had another. The sportsm an and the huntsm an W here is tau g h t the tru th s of Sci “ E lk ” , and “ deer” , their names are, Alas! for hum an disappointm ent, knows ence— always. God ne’er gives but one appendix! Its woodland for the game th a t’s in A nother nam e for common sense,— To the east are other m ountains, Don’t m istake me into m eaning it. R anging up and down the country, Here we’re free from all diseases: A nd we have all the blest ad v an W here brains instead of superstition Make the passport to preferm ent; Towering lofty to their sum m its, W e’re more free than other coun tage W here on m orals is a prem ium , Studded oft w ith glistening snow- tries— By M arm ion, told in Scottish b a l But no hypocrite is wanted. peaks; I h at is w hat I mean to tell you. lad, T eachers’ places d o n ’t dependon M others, they, of “ M innehahas” H ere we have but three diseases: And the yellow ham m er, cheering, Foul belief in pious dogma, W hich come tum bling down the Cough is “grippe”, and fever’s “ ty Pounds his oak drum in the cleariug. Nor on toadying to advantage canyons, phoid”— And the Chinese pheasant cackles, Of party “ boss” political. Singing of their lofty birth-place, All else is “ appendicitis” . And the quail “ pipes from the fal W hat they teach are facts of Sci To the placid valley rivers, To these sufferers, and all others low,” ence, And, with them , go onw ard gliding Of the “ G od-forsaken” regions W hile in sheltered copse of hazel And results are with the students. To the ever-thirsty ocean. W hich are lying all around us, L ittle finches sit and whistle No other country in creation Clothed upon with heavy timber, \\ e hang out the latchstring kindly For the bunnies in the open F urnishes so square advantage Like th eir western Coast Range And in v ite them to come hither To perform their evening dances For a Liberal education. brothers, And enjoy with us the blessings And the turkey does a cake Freest country th a t I know of— S tand these m ountains old and We all have here in “God’s c o u n try ”. walk,” Free from cyclones,freezes,blizzards, hoary; From the land of frozen water, Prancing a t his daily practice, Free from suakes and fierce mos And the game is on them also, From the city of C h ic a g o - S tru ttin g proudly in his harem quitoes, And the sam e eternal bragging Still yclept “ the windy c ity ”— Like a Mormon priest in U tah ; Free to live and die a sinner, Goes with them as with the others. W here the frigid breath of Boreas, E levates his caudal plum age, Free his ticket down to sheol, And between these m ountaiu Blown across the wintry water, W ith his wings the earth abrading, Free a deep, broad-m inded thinker, ranges Quite congeals the osseous m arrow Bends his head iu haughty fa sh io n ,' Free a bold iuvestigator,