The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1905-05-25
Early Oregon Newspaper.

The Canyon City Eagle has resurected
a copy of an early Oregon newspaper,
which was conducted for awhile as the
Canyon City Journal, by joaquin Miller.
Speaking Of this historical relic, the
Eagle says
/ joaquin Miller, the poet of the Sier-
ras, was the editorial highcockalorum
of this pioneer sheet which was the
City journal. Its size is about one
eighth the size of the Blue Mountain
Eagle, containing four pages of three
columns each. Goe b. Fearing d
Co., dealears in merchandise was the
only advertisement. At the top Of the
first column appeared the following
"The City journal. Published oc-
casionally by the typographical society
for the proprietors. Terms-cash or
any equivalent.
At the beginning of the editorial col
umn was the following
"The City Journal. Rev. Eral,
editor. ''These we're great times
when the good gray poet was a from
tier lawyer, later county judge,
but always poet. Tradition says he
was a good lawyers good judge--dis-
pensing even handed justice with
brace of six-shooters in one hand, a
copy Of Shakespeare in the other and
bible in his desk. 1t needs not the
evidence of tradition to prove that he
was a good poet. And yet the city
journal of the day and date above
mentioned is a revalent and material
document to show that the poet Of the
Sierras when before he saw the Sier-
ras--when his visual horison was
bounded on one side by the heaven
climbing Blue mountains of Baker
county and the other by the vast
plains of Harney, was poet. Read
here his greeting to the new year:
''New years Eve" it begins. can
other pearl, the Persians say has
dropped from the horn of time into
the ocean of eternity. Another wrin-
kle on the horn Of time, say we; and
at the thought of horn we sieze the
hour glass and turn II up until we see
the sugar in the bottom.
"lis the hour of efiection-with
spoon in 1t. Let us contemplate
the situation. Two hundred miles
from Il college, a steamboat or cir
Gus. But then we are also remote
from the perils Of the plague, earth
quake aud the Grecian bend. IL we
have had some marriages, we have al
SO had some divorces, 80 that bach
elor's chances are the same. II we
have had some deaths, there has also
been demands for soothing syrup
and peppermint, and IL there il a
coldness between this city and The
Dalles, how can we help IL at this
season of the yearH
"'Ihe horn of plenty Is poured up
on us, the editor is lovely, and all y
well. All the year our jail has been
tenantless, and no man has been tried
In the high court for crime. There is
no bourbon amongst us and temper
ance Is the rule There Is not a
pauper in the county, and our paper
is going up to par, Lawyers retire
in disgust at the prevailing peace and
doctors complain at a chronic state of
health, And we know more now than
we did before November. Wonderful
how fast we learn We know who will
be the next president, and we know
better whichside California IL to be on
now. Again we look at the sugar in
our glass, and say, be thankful
Memory runs past the old year
and turns down the corridors of time
We see plains, sagebrush and alkali.
Beyond lonely whitehaired man,
standing like milestone on the road
to eternity, buXom lass, with face |
as rcd as Webfoot apple, waterfall |
sweet pug nose, and ankles like-oh |
kricickey We must quit or give up
the ghost. And still beyond, school,
birch, mud pies, humble peg and
stolen apples while far back in the |
dim distance, measles, mumps, cat |
nip tea and paragoric are blended in
indistinctness, while sitting on our
mothers knee, and merry memory re-
fuses to go farther. Again we shake
sugar
Let us again be thankful. Lot
us be just. Let us not put wiggle-
tails in our milk, nor dogs claws in
our sausage; let us tell the truth
when we can't help it, and not drink
dogs gnats in our lager, and so that
when the hand that writes this is still
and the eyes that read this is glazed
and looking up at the grass roots on
yonder hill, we may have happy
New Year in the better land, where |
all together we will smile on the |
troubles of today, as we do now over
the days where gold had no attraction |
and birch had lost its terrors.
1.-THE cock from his lofty roost calls |
midnight and 1868 is but date in his |
ory. The merchant will write '6S for
time when in study; and We miner
will so date his epsitles to his Flor
ence Matilda, and she will read and |
wonder on what day New Year comes
at Canyon City.
welcome New Year. Very tender
ly do we greet you, as a new born
babe that comes to us an emigrant
across the great plains of eternity
Very tenderly do we greet you, and
ask you to give us hope in our hearts,
love on our lips, sugar in our-coffee,
and spOndulicks in our stockings.
Selah. "