COLUMBIA LIBRAHIES OFF8ITE HEALm sen NCI S SIANfift ^,1,, 1X64093948 R154.Ad1 Adi Dr. Owens-Adair; sorn UlUiiilllllHi .11 ({ijiii |!i; iiiiiir Columbia teibersfitp in tfje Citp of i^Eto pork College of ^fjpgiciang anb burgeons l^eference fJbvavp Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from Open Knowledge Commons http://www.archive.org/details/drowensadairsomOOowen DR. OWENS-ADAIR Some of Her Life Experiences DEDICATION. To my beloved mother, I dedicate this, the first child of my brain. "You, too, my mother, read my lines For love of unforgotten times ; And you may chance to hear once more The little feet along the floor." . SALUTATORY. In giving this book to the pubhc, I have a two-fold pur- pose — First : A desire to assist in the preservation of the early history of Oregon ; Second : Through the story of my life, and the few selec- tions from my earliest and later writings — preserved in newspaper clippings, — I have endeavored to show how the pioneer women labored and struggled to gain an entrance into the various avenues of industry, and to make it re- spectable to earn her honest bread by the side of her brother, man. In this day and age of progress and plenty, women are found in all the pursuits of life, from the cradle to the grave, and it is hard now, and will be more so, for women a century hence, to believe what their privileges have cost their early mothers in tears, anguish, and contumely, as they ascended, step by step, that slippery and dangerous highway, clinging courageously to the rope and tackle of progress, taking in the slack here and there, never flinching, and never turning back. Several chapters have been contributed by a life-long friend. Mann & Beacb, Printers, 92 First St., Portland. GLEANINGS FROM A PIONEER WOMAN PHYSICIAN'S LIFE. BY B. A. OWENS-ADAIR, M. D. "Every book is a quotation, and every house is a quota- tion out of all forests, and mines, and stone-quarries ; and every man is a quotation from all his ancestors." — Emerson. CONTENTS. Pages. The Story of My Life 7-114 The I'crilous Trip of the Steamer Roanoke 115-122 Christmas of 1905 — ^Mattie's Diary — Mattic's Last Letter — In Memoriam — A Touching Letter 123-140 Sketch of Sarah Damron Owens — My Mother's Story — A Western Wife 141-162 Mrs. Asenath Glover Hosford — Frances O. Goodell Adams 163-177 Nancy Irwin Morrison — Sarah Hurford Jeffers — Mrs. Mary Augusta Gray 178-193 Caroline Childs Van Dusen — Esther D'Armon Taylor. . .194-204 Mrs. Nancy Welch— Mrs. Polly Hicks McKean 205-212 Mrs. Rachel Mylar Kindred — Mrs. Hannah Pegg Pease — Mrs. Jerusha Brennan Wirt — Obituary of Mrs. Susan Kimball Wirt— Harriet Kimball Jewett 213-226 Mrs. Almira Raymond — Margaret Craven Gearhart — Sketch of. Mrs. W. T. Perry and Mrs. Eldridge Trask — Philipina Veith Boelling — To Portland via Panama 47 Years Ago— What We Need 227-241 Address Before Pioneer Society of Oregon 242-251 John Hobson^Colonel James Taylor — Captain George Flavel— W. W. Parker— Captain J. W. Munson— D. K. Warren .' 252-269 Stephen Fowler Chadwick — His Death — Letters of Hon. S. F. Chadwick to Dr. Owens 270-282 Letters of Hon. Jesse Applegate 283-300 List of Clatsop Pioneers — A Roseburg Personal Parody — Experience as a Nurse 301-307 Valentines Received by Dr. Owens Over 40 Years Ago — A Reminiscence of War Time 308-318 School Life, 1862-3— School Certificate— A Few of Dr. Owens' Early Letters to Her Son — Story of George — Reminiscences of Dr. Adair and Her Mother — Old Temperance Songs 319-338 Miss Barton Retired — Centennial Celebration of Discov- er}' of Columbia River — Poem on First Trip of A. & C. R. R. to Portland— Roosevelt 339-346 Nomination of First Woman School Superintendent in Oregon in Multnomah County — Office Life — Letter From Hon. Tillmon Ford — Early Oregon History — Mrs. Michell, the Clatsop — Governors of Oregon — Letter to Jane Weeden — Narrow Escape of Victor From Drowning 347-361 Authorship — First Articles Written for Publication, Date 1870 — Influence of a Cord of Wood — ^Co-Education — Letter From Prof. McLean 362-372 Press Comments on Dr. Adair's Lecture on Women as Physicians — Skating as an Exercise — Story of a Girl — A Work of Charity — Habit in Forming Character — Heredity and Hygiene 373-388 Bands of Hope — Discipline of Children — Physical Cul- ture 389-406 Pilgrim Mothers — Advancement of Women — Newspaper Comments — Extracts From Address in Defense of National W. C. T. U 407-418 Letter to Mrs. W. W. Parker — Necessity of Educating Children Scientifically — Meeting at Liberty Hall, Astoria — Women to the Front 419-431 Prohibition — Women Workers — Women Urged to Attend the Polls — Plea for Women Political Workers — No True Woman's Duty 432-452 Answer to Criticism — "Our Wandering Boy" Again — Anti - Saloon Movement — Report of Interviews — Woman's Influence for Evil — Chairman Executive Committee — Report to National Superintendent of Heredity and Hygiene — Letter from Seymour Con- don — Letters to Legislature — Address to Legisla- ture 453-470 Address Before Women's Congress, Portland, 1896 471-478 Royal Mare, Plebian Foal — Race Suicide — Man Found on the Road — Will Always Love 'Em — Go to Bed With the Chickens— Ladies Should Ride Astride 479-495 Social Life and Professional Work — Lost in the Fog — Night Work — Legal Commendation 496-506 Address of Welcome to Washington W. C. T. U. — Ad- dress of Presentation — Response to Toast — Address Before Eastern Star — Favors Use of Knife — Mar- riage and Divorce 507-523 Dr. Adams' Surgical Work — Dr. Adair Returns to Sunny- mead 524-530 First Recognition of Women by American Medical As- sociation—On the Trail — Progress of Women 531-537 /S^. -4. (a*^^- ^^ ~j^a^^ DR. OWENS-ADAIR Some of Her Life Experiences CHAPTER I. The Story of My Life. I was born February 7th, 18 10, in Van Buren county, Missouri, being the second daughter of Thomas and Sarah Damron Owens. My father and mother crossed the plains with the first emigrant wagons of 1843, and settled on Clatsop plains, Clatsop county, Oregon, at the mouth of the Columbia, the wonderful "RiA^er of the West," in sound of the ceaseless roar of that mightiest of oceans, the grand old Pacific. Though' then very small and delicate in stature, and of a highly nervous and sensitive nature, I possessed a strong and vigorous constitution, and a most wonderful endurance and recuperative power. These qualities were inherited, not only from my parents, but from my grandparents, as well. My grandfather Owens was a man of exceptional financial ability. He had a large plantation in Kentucky, and owned many slaves, and many stores throughout the state. He was a grandson of Sir Thomas Owens, of Wales, of historic fame. My grandmother Owens was of German descent ; a rather small, but executive woman, who took charge of, and ably administered the affairs of the plantation, during my grand- father's absence, which was most of the time. She was pre- cisely the kind of woman President Roosevelt most admires ; — a woman of energy, industry, and capability in managing her home aft'airs, and the mother of twelve children, all of whom grew to maturity, married, and went on giving vig- orous sons and daughters to this young and growing repub- lic. 6 Dr. Owens-Adair. My grandfather Damron was a man of equal worth. He was a noted Indian fighter, and was employed by the Gov- ernment, during its wars with the Shawnees and Delawares, as a scout and spy. He performed many deeds of remarka- ble bravery and daring, one of which was the rescue of i mother and five children from the Indians, who had cap- tured them, at the imminent risk of his own life ; in recog- nition of this act of signal bravery the Government pre- sented him with a handsome silver-mounted rifle, worth three hundred dollars. (The detailed account of this ad- venture may be foimd in the sketch of my mother's life, on page—.) My grandmother Damron was my grandfather's second wife. She was of Irish descent, and noted for her great personal beauty. My father, a tall, athletic Kentuckian, served as sheriff of Pike county for many years, beginning as a deputy at the age of sixteen. It was often said of him : "Thomas Owens is not afraid of man or devil." My mother was of slight build, but perfect form, with bright blue eyes, and soft brown hair. She weighed but ninety-six pounds when she was married, at the age of sixteen. My earliest recollection reaches back to the first step taken by my brother, Josiah Parrish Owens, I being five years old, and he between seven and eight months. It was in the smooth, cleanly swept back yard, on a soft, warm July afternoon. Mother sat just outside the door, sewing. My sister Diana, who was past seven, and old for her years, and who never seemed to care much for play, (unlike most chil- dren,) sat near mother, busy with her patch-work. My brother Flem (about three) and I were playing with the baby. In his infantile glee he crept away from us, raised himself on his feet, and looked smiling at mother, who held out her arms, when he toddled to her, taking at least a dozen SoMii: OF IIkr I>ikk Rxpkriknces, 7 steps, before she caiiglil him. From this time on, he never seemed to desire to creep. J I was a red-letter day to us, as our baby, named for Rev. J. L. Parrish, of missionary fame, was the pride of our home. My brother Flem, two years my junior, was my constant companion. He j^rew rapidly, and soon overtook me in size, as I was small, and grew slowly, but I was tough and active, and usually led in all our pursuits of work or play. Not until I was past twelve, did he ever succeed in throwing me. One day he came in the kitchen, where I was washing the dinner dishes and, with a broad smile on his face (he was such a good-natured boy !) said : "Pap told me to go to the barn for two bundles of oats for the horses ; now the first one that is thown down must. go for the oats." Instantly the dish-cloth was dropped, and we clinched. I had noticed for some time that he was gaining on me, but I could not refuse to take a "dare," and he had not yet thrown me. Round, and round the room we went, bending and sway- ing, like two young saplings, till, seeing his chance, he put out his foot and tripped me. I fell on a chair w'hich hap- pened to be in the way, and my mouth came in contact with one of its posts, which broke off a piece of one of my front teeth. Poor brother picked up the fragment of tooth, burst out crying, and ran off to the barn for the oats. He had just learned this new accomplishment in wrest- ling, which he had kept secret from me, to his life-long re- gret, for in those times and parts dentistry was almost an unknown art. It was at least eighteen years after that be- fore I found a dentist who could repair the injury. Dr. Hatch, of Portland, did the work, and I was more than pleased to have that unsightly gap filled in with shining gold. The rarity of such an artistic piece of work in the mouth added to its attractiveness. The first attempt, by the way, was a failure, the filling soon becoming loose ; but the 8 Dr. Owens-Adair. second was a success, and was still perfect when 'the tooth was extracted thirty-five years later. This tooth I keep, as a souvenir in remembrance of that particular tussle with my dear, good brother; — ^not the last, however, by any means, for we were, as I said, constant companions, and I was a veritable "tom-boy," and gloried in the fact. It was father's custom to pat me on the head, and call me his 'boy." The regret of my life up to the age of thirty-ti ve, was that I had not been born a boy, for I realized very early in life that a girl was hampered and hemmed in on all sides simply by the accident of sex. Brother and I were always trying our muscular strength, and before I was thirteen, I bet him I could carry four sacks of flour, or two hundred pounds. I stood between a table and a box, on which we had put two sacks of flour each. Then brother placed a sack of flour on each of my shoulders, and held them steady, while I managed to get the other two sacks (one on the table and the other on the box on each side of me) under each arm, and then I walked triumph- antly off, carrying all four sacks! In that memoiable year of 1847, after the shocking Whitman massacre, my father was preparing to go, with other Clatsop volunteers, to fight the Indians. When all was ready for his departure, as he stood in the midst of his weeping wife and children, a Mr. McDonald, who was then working for father, stepped for- ward and said : "Mr. Owens, I am a single man, and have no one to care for me, but I am poor. Give me your outfit, and money for my expenses, and I will go in your place." Yielding to the entreaties of his family, my father finally assent 'id, and Mr. McDonald went, but he never returned. He was killed, I think, by an accident. We have always remembered him gratefuly, believing that he may have saved our father's life to us ; and at least, he freely gave his own. I was the family nurse ; and it was seldom that I had not Some of Her Life Expehiences. 9 a child in my arms, and more cliniLcin^- to inc. Where there is a baby every two years, there is always no end of nursing to be done; especially when the mother's time is> occupied, as it was then, every moment, from early morning till late at night, with much outdoor as well as indoor work. She seldom found time to devote to the baby, except to give it the breast. When the weather was fine we fairly lived out of doors, baby and all, I hauling the baby in its rude little sled, or cart, which bumped along, and from which baby was often thrown out, but seldom seriously hurt, and never killed ; with a two-year-old on one hip, and a four-year-old hanging to my skirts, in order to keep up ; but more often on brother Flem's back ; so we went, playing here, and working there, during all the pleasant weather. When it rained, we had access to the barn, where we could swing, play "hide and seek," and slide down the hay-mow, from the top to the bottom. Many a time I have carried the children to the top, from where, with the baby in my arms, and the two next younger clinging to me, I would slide to the bottom, to their great delight. I was fond of hunting hen's nests, which I seldom failed to find. One afternoon, I crawled under the barn, as I knew there were eggs there. The ground was hard and smooth, and so near the barn-floor that moving-room was at a pre- mium. About the center of the space, I found a nest full of eggs, and squeezed under till I could reach and gather them into my apron. Then, as I could not turn around, I began to slide out backward. When passing a sleeper, a knot in it caught between the waistband of my dress and the first button above. Try as best I might, I could not get loose. Brother was waiting for me outside, and when he found I could not possibly extricate myself, he ran to mother for help. Father was away from home. iMother saw that the only way to release me was to break the button-hole 10 Dr. Owens-Adair. above iny belt. L}'ing wedged in there on my face, I could not reach the button, or break either the button-hole, or strong belt. The barn was full of hay, which it would take several men at least a day, — perhaps more — to remove so as to get down to the middle of the barn floor ; and to tunnel under to me would require about as much time and labor. So she told me to push and work myself backward and side- wise. I obeyed, and after long and persistent effort, I suc- ceeded in tearing the button-hole out, thus enabling me to back once more into freedom and fresh air. After I got clear of the sleeper, I rached back and unbuttoned all my buttons, to make sure I did not get hung up again. My eggs were near by, and I brought them out with me. That was not the last time I crawled under that barn for eggs, but I had learned a lesson never to be forgotten, for I never again went into a tight place like that without pre- paring beforehand to leave all my clothes behind, if neces- sary, — that is, if I should again be hung up on a knot or a peg- When I was about twelve years old, a teacher by the name of Beaufort came to teach a three months' school in our neighborhood. School-books were extremely scarce, and sometimes whole families were taught out of one book. All the children over four years old attended the school, for children did not remain babies long when other babies came along so fast and croy^ded them out of the cradle. Boys and girls of fourteen and fifteen were expected to do a full day's work on the farm or in the house, and even the younger ones were all taught to be helpful and useful, and to do their full share in taking care of themselves. The new teacher was a fine, handsome young man, who held himself aloof from the young people of his age, and kept his person so clean, neat and trim that the country young men disliked him. Mr. Beaufort boarded at our house, and we children SoMK (;!• IIku I.ii-i-. Experiences. 11 walked the two miles to school with him, daily. lie was greatly liked by the children, to whom he was most kind, playing with them, and often takinj^" two or three of the little tots, or as many as could hanji^ on, and, thus hanrlicapped, he would run races with the older children, to the hilarious joy of the little youngsters, who thought they had won the race. I simply worshiped my handsome teacher, who taught me how to run, to jump, to lasso, to spring up on the horse's back, and so many other things that I appreciated. On one occasion there was a picnic at our house, it being the largest and best on Clatsop plains ; — and while there, the young men began to joke and guy the young teacher about his white hands. He took it good-naturedly, and finally said: "I wi'U bet you $200 in cash, my watch and chain, and all I have, against $100, and whatever you can put up, that I can dig, measure and stack more potatoes than any other man on Clatsop." This stirred their blood, and touched their pride, and his challenge was accepted. He was to dig, measure and stack in three piles, sixty bushels of potatoes in ten hours, he to select his ground on which to dig. My father said to Le- grand Hill, who was then working for him, and whom I ■married- two years later : "Now, my boy, take my advice : don't fool away your summer's work. I have been watching that young man, for three months. He is as strong as a bear, and active as a cat." But, like the other young men (and some of the older ones) he needed no advice. He bet his watch, and two hundred bundles, or sheaves, of oats on the issue. Mr. Beaufort selected his ground in Mr. Jewett's potato patch, on the fr.rm now belonging to Mr. Josiah West, near the main county road. The day before the contest, he had staked out his ground, and smoothed off the spots on which to pile his potatoes. The day dawned bright and beautiful, and found every- 12 Dr. Owens-Adair. body there, including men, women, children and Indians. All brought good things to eat for luncheon, and came to spend the day, and see the fun. Time-keepers being selected, and the hour being near at hand, the teacher removed his coat, vest, and long, hand- some blue silk Spanish scarf, and hung them on the fence. Suspenders were unknown in those days. He then loosened his leather belt, and taking off his boots, he encased his feet in a pair of handsome beaded moccasins ; then, drawing a pair of soft buckskin gloves over his smooth white hands, he picked up the new hoe, from the handle of which he had sawed off about half, and stepped to the middle of the plot, as the time-keeper called the hour. He took off his hat, and made a graceful bow to the assembled company. Then, stepping across a hill and standing with a foot on each side of it, he, with two or three strokes of the hoe, laid bare the potatoes, and with both hands scooped them up into his half- bushel measure. It did not require more than two or three hills to more than fill the measure. Then, with a few elastic leaps, he emptied them on one of the places he had prepared for them. For two or three hours he kept the tellers busy counting ; and then he took it more leisurely, laughing and joking as he worked, and he finished his task long before night. All the beholders were fully convinced, after the first hour's work, that the stakes were his. That was a "red letter" day for that handsome and accomplished young teacher. He had "raked in" watches, rings, scarf-pins and about all the spare money the young men,_and some old ones in that set- tlement possessed. After he had finished his sixty bushels, he turned several handsprings, and, reaching the fence, he put his hands on the top rail, and sprang over with one bound. That was a revelation in potato-digging to the Clatsopites, who all dug with a long-handled hoe, while the Indians used SuMi': ()!■■ Ili:i< l.iM. l''\i'i;i;ii':xcES. l-i a short stick, or their hands, for the pur])ose, at the same time sitting- or crawhng on tlieir hands anrl knees. That was the last, and one of the best lessons that my honored teacher taught on Clatsop. ITc left in a few days and we never heard of him again, but his memory is always fresh in my mind. He was, in my young, crude, and it might be called barren life, a green, flower-strewn oasis, with a foun- tain of cool water in its midst. I was then but twelve years old ; small, but perfect in form, health, and vigor. Brother Flem towered far above me, and sister Diana, "The Beauty of Clatsop," was taller than our mother. My love for my handsome, kind and intelligent teacher knew no bounds. Diana said I was always "tagging him around;" and mother chided mc for beings so rude, saying, "You ought to know that he must get tired of you and the children sometimes." However I found many oportunities of being in his so- ciety, and I improved them all ; especially as mother was so over-worked she was only too glad to be relieved of the care of the baby, and the two other smaller children. Taking my brood, I would seek out. my friend, who invariably met me with a welcoming smile, for he had learned to love the two tiny girls, and the big, fat baby, who warmly returned his affection. He wotild catch up one of the older little ones, toss her above his head in such a way that she would rest across his shoulders, with her little arm around his head. Then he would take the baby and hug it close, and, picking up the other little midget, under his other arm, we would be oflf for a race. And how we all enjoyed it! The children would scream with delight, and my own happiness, though less demonstrative, was no less deep. We often went to the fields where father was plowing, cultivating or haying-. Many a time did he lift me lightly to the back of the near 14 Dr. Owens-Adair. horse, hand me the baby, and seating one of the others be- hind me, with one on his shoulder, walk beside the horse with his hand reached out to hold us from falling. Father liked him, too, and was always pleased to have him around. It was a sad, sad day when he left us. First, he bade father and mother good-bye; and then the children. He snatched up the baby from the floor, tossed her up, and kissed her. I was trying to keep back my tears. He smiled down on me with his handsome blue eyes, and said to mother : "I guess I'll take this one with me." Mother answered, "All right; she is such a tom-boy I can never make a girl of her, anyway." He took my little hand in his, and I went with him through the gate, and some distance down the road. Then he said : "Now, little one, you must go back. You are a nice little girl, and some day you will make a fine woman; but you must remember and study your book hard, and when you get to be a woman everybody will love ou ; — and don't forget your first teacher, will you?" He had gathered me up, and smiling, kissed me, and then set me down with my face toward home. I ran back, and seeing the children on the fence, all looking, I ran off around the back of the house, and hid, and cried a long time. Of course they all laughed at me, and often times afterward, when I was es- pecially rebellious and wayward, which was not infrequently, I would be confronted with, "I wish the teacher had taken you with him," to which I never failed to answer promptly and fervently, "I wish he had, too !" Some of Uek LjiI': J:lxi'i:i;iiiNCES. 15 CHAPTER II. About this time, a Mr. and Mrs. McCrary moved on the adjoining farm, owned by a Mr. McDaniel, a bachelor. Their httle house was not more than a quarter of a mile from ours, just over, and beyond a pretty, grassy ridge. I did not like the man, but I fell in love with his tall, splendid wife. She was quite a little older than my mother, but very different from her. She was tall, and very fair, with pleas- ant gray eyes ; — not pretty in form or features, but she was one of the most admirable and beautiful characters I have met with in all my life. To me she looked beautiful, and I loved her ardently. No child could have loved a mother more than I loved this pure, noble woman. It is said that "love begets love," and it surely did, in this case, for she returned my love with a true mother-love. She was not blessed with children of her own. The affection between us remained unbroken throughout her long subsequent life, of nearly fifty years ; and now I can realize, looking back, that the lovely example of her beautiful life has had much to do with molding my own, and I doubt not, the characters of many of those around her. Their worldly goods were few when they settled near us, but she made the most of what little she had, — only two small rooms scantily furnished, — but every thing in them was kept immaculate, and she, with her kind words, sweet smiles, and winning ways, her hair combed smoothly back from his high, prominent forehead, an ample white kerchief crossed and pinned smoothly over her bosom, and her long, checked apron ironed without one wrinkle, fastened trimly about her waist, was a fitting, and charming mistress of her spotless little home. My mother was a neat and tasteful woman, but she said 16 " Dr. Owens-Adair. M|rs. McCrary always looked as if she had "come out of a band-box." It was my habit to visit my friend once a day ; — often sev- eral times. Whatever might be my task, I would try to finish it as quickly as possible, that I might slip off, and fly to Mrs. McCrary's. It did seem like flying, for my feet scarcely touched the ground, as I ran. I received many scoldings, for running off thus, without permission, and was repeatedly told that grown people did not want to be bothered with children, but, unless I was positively forbid- den, I still went. Mrs. McCrary seemed always so glad to see me, and had so many pretty and pleasant things to say to me, that it was no wonder I was drawn so strongly to her. She did not visit much, and never gossiped. She was a reader, but books and papers were very scarce in those days. She al- ways treated me as if I were a little lady of some conse- quence. For instance, she would say: "Why, your visits are just like bright, sparkling, refresh- ing sunbeams to me." If a button was gone from my dress, or apron, a pin went into its place, and she would say: "Now, that looks so much nicer!" Again she would frequently say: "I am just going to comb out those long, pretty braids of yours ;" and she would take down my hair, which came half way to the floor, and brush and comb it, and then take vibwn the little mirror from the wall, and hold it before me, liurning it from side to side, so that I could see how long and nice it was. waving over my shoulder, saying: "We'll leave it so awhile, it makes you look so like a fairy." Sometimes she would tell me a fairy story, at the same time showing me how to knit, crochet^ or sew. All this time talking, and drawing me out, correcting my mistakes Some of Hrk I.ikk Experiences. 17 with such delicacy that even my super-sensitive nature was not wounded. She infused such a charm into everything she did and said that I was not only interested, but most anxious to learn. She impressed upon my mind in the most positive language just how the thing should be done, show- ing me by example, at the same time, always having me as- sist her when possible ; invariably excusing my blunders, and praising my progress. Was she making biscuits, she would have me stand by, while she showed me every step of the process. First she would take down the clean board, and say: "Now you take so many cups of sifted flour, so many cups of milk, so much butter, so much salt, so much soda for so many persons. When you knead the biscuits, be sure you do not put the flour too near the edge of the board, or it will get on the floor ; and stand a little farther back from the table, or you will get your apron mussed." "Do you know, I have seen women who could wear one apron all the week and then it would not be as soiled as that of some women would be in one day. That shows the dif- ference betwen a neat and slovenly person." "Some people always have a place for everything, and keep things where they belong, while others keep their things hap-liazard, and never know where to find them, — and so make themselves a great deal more work, and have a much harder time to get along. You will never be that kind of a person, for your mother is a good housekeeper, and you will grow up to be an orderly housekeeper, too." Was it any wonder that I loved that wise, good woman? I was as wax in her hands, and could I have been under her influence until I had reached maturity, instead of but one year, I could, and would have escaped many of the sorrows and hardships of my life. Mr. McCrary soon took up a claim on Young's river, a part of which is now known as "Greenwood Cemetery," but 18 . Dr. Owens-Adair. it "was then quite remote, and could be reached only by boat. After the lapse of many years, on my return to Clatsop, I heard that ]\Irs. IMcCrary, now a widow, was spending the winter in Astoria, and I embraced the first opportunity to visit her. Oh, what a joyful meeting was ours ! And with what interest and emotion did we recall and rehearse the past ! She was the same grand woman. Hardships and griefs — • of which she had suffered many — seemed to have made her more lovely and saintly. She said to me : "Well, I am getting old, but you are young, and fresh, with the bloom and beauty of womanhood upon you, and yet I can see much to remind me of the little bare-footed girl who brought me so much pleasure the year I lived near your father's;" and she laughed happily. Again we parted; and year after year came and went. I became a physician, married a second time, and went to live on our Sunnymead farm in Clatsop county. One dark night a messenger came with a lantern, saying that Mrs. McCrary was suffering dreadfully from an abscess, and wanted me. Would I go ? Yes, by every fond recollection ; — by every tie of gratitude and aff'ection — most assuredly I would go! And a walk of one mile over a rough tide-land road brought us to the Lewis and Clarke river, which we had to cross in a boat, to where a horse was awaiting us. Then three miles farther, and we were at our destination. I first adminisiered an opiate; then lanced the ulcers, and ap- plied a hot poultice and a hot-water bag, and shq was soon comfortable and free from pain : Then she said : "Oh, how good God is, to send you to me in my trouble; and I do not regret my sickness, since it brought you here. I want you to get right in bed with me. I am ashamed to be so selfish as not to let you sleep in another room, after this long, hard trip, but if you had given me a bushel of Some of Her Lifh ExrKKiisNCES. 19 opiates I could not sleep, I am so hunj^ry for a good, long talk." "Do not for a moment think," I rci)licd, "that you are dejM-iving me of anything, for I am quite as anxious as you are for such a talk" ; and we did talk, from 2 a. m. till breakfast the next morning, living over much of our past lives from my early childhocxl. A year or so later, she came to Clatsop to visit her friends, the Carnahans, who now own my father's old donation land- claim. While there, she had a severe attack of pneumonia, and, for a time, I despaired of her life ; but she calmly said : "I know my time has come. I am ready and anxious to go ; for I have lived beyond my usefulness. You are doing all you can, and I do not blame you, but I feel that I ought to go now." But her time was not yet come, and, after many weeks, she made a good recovery, and went to Portland, Oregon, to live with her adopted son, Capt. Kane Olney, w^hom she took, in infancy, and raised him to manhood. I saw her frequently afterward, when I was in Portland, and in 1899, before removing to North Yakima, Wash., I called to say good-bye to her. I found her reading the Ore- -/onian. On seeing me, she rose to her feet at once, and met me with her old, gracious, heart-warming smile. "I see you are reading the Oregonian," I said. "Yes," she said, "I spend much of my time in reading. If I only could remember what I read! My memory, you see, is only half-way across the floor. That is just about the length of it now." "Never mind your present memory," I reassured her, "your past will not desert you, and the good you have done in this W'Orld wdll linger long after you and I have been laid to rest." This pleasant, cheerful way in which she alluded to her 20 Dr. Owens-Adair. loss of memory illustrates the wonderful charm and beauty with which she invested life ; so that all its rough, unsightly, and annoying features were sure, under her sunny way of meeting and presenting them, to become less disagreeable, and often even perfectly charming. That was the last time I ever saw that grand, noble woman, — one of God's master- pieces. Her walk in life was lowly, but sunshine and flowers followed her and illumined her pathway, and it could be truly said of her that no one ever came in contact with her without being made better. A;i amusing little occurrence took place when I was just past thirteen. Father had working for him at the time a diminutive, stuttering Englishman. This man had been trying to make love to me for some time, and, notwithstanding my scornful rejection of his at- tentions, and positively rude treatment of him, he persisted in them. One morning I was washing. For heating water, and boiling the clothes, we used a huge pot, which hung on a crane, in the big, open fire-place, in a room used for wash- ing, and as a general store-room. Under the open stairway were several partly filled barrels of cranberries, and other articles. That little imp, knowing I was there, and watch- ing his opportunity, slipped up behind me, as I was stirring down the clothes with a long broom-handle, and, catching me around the waist, hugged, and tried to kiss me, and then he jumped back and laughed triumphantly, endeavoring to escape by the open door ; but, like a tiger, I leaped between him and the door, giving him such a whack with the broom- handle that he staggered, and rushed under the stairs, and plunged his head into the cranberry barrel, thus presenting a fair field for the strokes which^ in my fury, I laid on thick and fast, with all the strength I possessed. He screamed, and mother, hearing the disturbance, ran down stairs, and had to actually pull me off by main strength. SoMic OF IJkk LikI': TCxtkhiicnces. 21 When he got his head out of the harrel, he sputtered and stammered, and could not utter a single coherent word. In towering contempt, I exclaimed: "You little skunk, if you ever dare come near me again, I'll kill you !" About this time another occurrence happened that made a lasting impression on my mind. One bright morning a young farmer about 27 years old came rushing excitedly up with his coat on his arm, to mother, who was in the back yard, saying : "Where is Tom Owens?" Mother asked: "What do you want of him? He is not here." "I want him !" he vociferated, "And I intend to whip him within an inch of his life." He was a large fellow, as tall as father, and much heavier. Mother said: "Now, Luke, go home, and get over your mad fit; Owens has never done you any harm. But I tell you if you do get him roused, he will beat you half to death, and I don't want to see you get hurt." But he had no no- tion of gfetting hurt. Just then ■ we saw father coming up the road on horse- back. Luke saw him, too, and started for him, mother calling, and begging him to come back, but he rushed on. The children were terribly frightened, and began to cry. Mother said : "Stop your crying. Your father is not going to be hurt." She, however, walked out with us to where we could see and hear everything. Father stopped his horse, and Luke, throwing down his coat, began gesticulating, swearing, and daring father to get down and fight him, but father sat calmly on his horse and said : "Now, Luke, you are only a boy ; you don't know what you are doing ; go home, and let me alone. I don't want to hurt you." At this, Luke sprang at him, calling him a coward, and attempting to pull him off his horse, but before he could 22 Dr. Owens-Adair. catch his foot, father was off his horse on the opposite side, and giving the bridle a pull, turned the horse from him ; and the first thing he did, when Luke came lunging at him, was to knock him down with a single blow. Then he held him down, and choked him till he cried "Enough !" when father released him, saying : "Go to the house and wash and clean yourself up ; my wife will give you water and towels." Luke lost no time in obeying, and mother brought water and towels, and assisted him. His nose was bleeding profusely, and he was covered with blood, but he was not half so badly hurt as he was scared. Mother said, "Well, Luke, I am very sorry you did not take my advice. I knew you would get hurt." He was very penitent, and much humiliated, and when father came up, bringing his coat, and assisted him in put- ting it on, they shook hands, and were friends ever after. It afterward transpired that some of the neighbors, know- ing him to be a bragging bully, and thinking he needed a taking down, had put him up to coming, by telling him that Mr. Owens had said he had stolen something. In 1853, finding that his G40 acres on Clatsop could no longer supply feed for his rapidly increasing herds, father decided to remove to Southern Oregon, where he could have an abundance of range for them. He at once set about building a large flat-boat, or scow, in which to move his family, household goods, and what stock he could not, or did not wish to sell. In the fall, after the crops were ha.rvested, and everything disposed of that we did not want to move, father shipped his cattle and horses to St. Helens, and sent them on by the trail, to the valley. He then returned, and moved the family and our teams to Portland, then a very small town on the Willamette river. After disposing of the boat, we loaded up the two wagons, and were ready to start for the valley. It had been raining, Some of IIf.r Liki-: Exi'ichiences. 23 and I well remember what a terrific time we had petting throug-h the dense timber west and south of Portland, father leading-, driving one team, and mother following, with the second. Mr. John Hobson, my l)rother-in-law, had, mean- time, gotten the horses and cattle through the timber, and, leaving the other men to herd them, on good jjasturage, came back and met us in the woods, for which we were very- thankful. We came up with the herd near the Burton place, in North Yamhill, the next day, and bidding Mr. Hobson and one of the other two men good-bye, we proceeded on to Roseburg, arriving there without mishap. Brother Flem and I, with the assistance of one man, who was not half equal to either one of us for the purpose, drove the herd. Father said we were worth more than any two men he could hire. There was an abundance of grass ; the weather was fine, and this part of the journey was really a picnic for us all. Upon leaving home, I had insisted upon taking my big cat, Tab, against the judgment of my parents. After a good deal of argument, and many tears on my part, I carried my point, and Tab went with us. After getting well on our way, I let him out when we made camp, putting him in the covered wagon, and fastening down the cover when we were ready to start again. One morning the horses had strayed off, and father sent me after them. When I returned with them, everything was packed, ready to leave, and I forgot Tab. We had gone per- haps a mile, when I thoug'ht of him, and rushing back to mother's wagon, I asked if she had put him in. No, she had not thought of him, or seen him. Without another word, I put whip to my horse, and gal- loped back to camp, but no Tab was to be found. I rode up and down the pretty little stream calling for Tab, but saw- no signs of him, and with sad heart, and wet eyes, I rode 24 Dr. Owens-Adair, ahead, and overtook the wagons. When we stopped at noon, mother sent me to the wagon for something, and as I unfastened and hfted the cover, what did I see but my big, beautiful, beloved Tab, ready to greet me with an affection- ate "Meouw !" From that time on, he always crawled into the wagon of his own accord, when the horses were being hitched on pre- paratory to starting. He enpoyed the trip as well as any of us. On reaching Roseburg, we found our old friend and neighbor Mr. Perry had a house all ready for us, and we moved right in. Father took up a claim just across the Umpqua river, from the then little village of Roseburg. This gave him a wide scope of range for all his stock. He at once bought lumber for a good house, and began hauling it on the building-spot, in order to be ready to build early in the spring. Then, during the winter, he built a ferry-boat for his own accommodation, and that of the pub- lic. As the river could not be forded during a part of the year, and was really dangerous, the ferry was quite a source of revenue to us. During the winter, Mr. Hill came to visit us. His parents and their family had come to Oregon the year before, and settled in the Rogue River valley, near the Siskiyou mountains. It was now arranged that we should be married the next spring, when father's house was far enough completed to move in. During the winter and early spring, I put in all my spare time in preparing for my approaching marriage. I had four quilts already pieced, ready for the lining; mother had given me the lining for them all, and the cotton for two. I carded wool for the other two, and we quilted and finished them all. She also gave me muslin for four sheets, two pairs of pillow-cases, two tablecloths, and four towels. I cut and made two calico dresses for myself, and assisted mother in the making of my wedding dress, which was a pretty, sky-blue figured lawn. SOMI': (JF IJeK I.IKK JixriCJtlKNCES. 25 I had evcrythinjTf done, and neatly folded away lonj^ be- fore the wedding- day arrived. Mr. Hill eame early in April, and assisted us in moving into the new house. On May 4th, 1854, with only our old friends, the Perrys, and the minister present, beside our own family, we were married. I was still small for my age. My husband was five feet eleven inches in height, and I could stand under his outstretched arm. I grew very slowly, and did not reach my full stature until I was 25 years old, which is now 5 feet 4 inches. 26 Dr. Owens-Adair. CHAPTER III. Just prior to our marriage, Mr. Hill had bought a farm of 320 acres on credit, four miles from my father's home, for $600, to be paid for in two years. The improvements on it consisted of a small cabin, 12x14 in dimensions, made of round logs, with the bark on them, each notched deeply enough at its end to dovetail into its neighbors above and below it. The cracks still remaining after this rude fitting were filled with mixed mud and grass, but this cabin had never yet been "chinked." It was covered with "shakes'' (thick, hand-made shingles three feet long), which were kept in place by poles, tied down at each end. The door was so low that a man had to stoop to go in and out, and it was fastened with the proverbial latch and string. The cabin had neither floor nor chimney, and the wide cracks admitted both draughts and vermin. Later I gathered grass and fern, mixed them with mud, and filled these cracks, thus shutting' out the snakes and lizards, which abounded in that region, and which had made me frequent and alarming visits. The window consisted of two panes of glass set in an opening made by sawing out a section of one of the logs for that purpose. About twelve acres of land were fenced, and had been seeded to oats and wheat for one or two years. A rough, open shed sufficed to shelter six or eight head of stock, and surrounding it was a corral for milking cows, and a calf-pen adjoining it. Our furniture consisted of a pioneer bed, made by boring three holes in the logs of the wall in one corner, in which to drive the rails. Thus the bedstead required but one leg. The table was a mere rough shelf, fastened to the wall, and SoiviK oi'- lli'-.K Ltke Experiences, 27 supported by two lcj:^s. Three smaller shelves answcrerl for a cupboard, and were amply sufficient for my slender supply of dishes, which com])rised mostly tinware, which, in those days, was kept scrupulously bri.c:ht and shininf,^ My sugar- bowl, cream jug', steel knives and forks (two-tincd) and one set of German silver teaspoons, I had bought with my own little savings before my marriage. My cooking utensils were a pot, tea-kettle and bake-oven (all of iron), a frying-pan and coffee-pot, a churn, six milk pans, a wash tub and board, a large twenty or thirty-gallon iron pot for washing purposes, etc., and a water bucket and tin dipper. All these things, including a full supply of gro- ceries, I got on my father's account, as he had told me to go to the store and purchase what I wanted. This I did in the afternoon of my wedding day, the ceremony having taken place at 10 a. m. He also gave me a fine riding mare. Queen (my saddle I had already earned long before), one fresh cow a.nd a heifer calf, which I selected ; also one cow which would be fresh in the early fall, and a wagon and har- ness. In addition, mother gave me a good feather bed, and pillows, a good straw bed, a pair of blankets and two extra quilts. My husband's possessions were a horse and saddle, a gun, and less than twenty dollars in money; but I consid- ered this a most excellent start in life. I knew wdiat my father and mother had done, and I then believed that my husband was the equal of any man living. The late Hon. John Hobson, Collector of Customs at Astoria, once said to me : "Your father could make money faster than any man I ever saw. He came here in 1843. with fifty cents in his pocket, and I do not think there was one hundred dollars in the whole county (Clatsop), and in less than ten years he was worth over twenty thousand dollars." Consequently, I had high hopes and great expectations for the future. Mv husband was a strong, healthv man ; I had 28 Dr. Ovvens-Adair. been trained to work, and bred to thrift and economy, and everything looked bright and beautiful to me. My soul overflowed with love and hope, and I could sing the dear old home-songs from morning to night. My happy, buoyant nature enabled me to enjoy anything, — even cooking out of doors, over a smoky fire, without even a covering over my head ; for at first we had neither fireplace nor stove. It was sweet, smiling spring, — the season that I loved best. The hills were bedecked with the loveliest wild flow- ers, for the variety and abundance of which the Umpqua valley is especially noted. And yet, from a child I was practical and methodical. I had everything packed, and ready to move to my new home as soon as we were married, and I insisted on going there the next morning, knowing that the garden ought to be in. Within a few days it was planted. We depended on wild game for meat, and as my husband was a good marksman, he kept us well supplied. I always went with him, and we never came home empty-handed. He often killed two grouse from one tree by shooting the under bird first. The upper one seldom flew, and the hunter could bag it at the next shot. This seems to be a characteristic of the grouse. It is not startled by the sound of the gun's dis- charge, but if the upper bird is killed, its fall alarms those under, who immediately take to flight. I have myself seen hunters who kno^- this fact kill three grouse in one tree by shooting the lower ones first. Mr. Hill was always ready to go hunting, no matter what work was pressing to be done. One evening he proposed a deer-hunt, so next morning we were ofif early. He decided to go to the top of the highest hill, as the wind coming from that direction would bear away our scent ; so we rode our horses as far up as we could, and then staked them on good grass, and proceeded on foot to a point where he said we were sure to find deer. When near Some of Hkr Lifk Expkiiiences. 29 the summit, wc crept with f,n-cat caution, and peeped over. Sure enough ! There, basking in the heat of the day, in the shade of the noble oak trees on that gentle, grassy slope, was a band of the soft-eyed beauties. All save one were lying down ; while the king of the herd stood quietly by, leisurely chewing his cud, with his head toward us, all unconscious that his last hour had come. We were behind a large tree, and my husband rested his rifle on one of its limbs, and took deliberate aim. At the click of the trigger, the royal buck sprang into the air, and fell dead. The herd was thrown into consternation ; and, as the wind blew from them to us, they bounded toward us. In an instant the gun was re-loaded, aimed, and a graceful doe succumbed. I now entreated that he shoot no more, and as it was then past noon, and we were a long way from home, he assented. We first went down to the big buck, and soon dismembered him, and cut ofif his head. After spending much time, and hard labor in tugging and pulling, we at last got him to the top of the hill, after which it was an easy task to carry the small deer up. Then we started down the long hill, he with the large animal, and I with the small one. In time we reached the horses, on which we lashed the car- casses. Then we led the horses to the foot of the hill, where we loaded both deer on one horse, and rode home ourselves on the other, getting home at dark. The early morning of the next da}- was spent in skinning and salting the meat. Then, taking the two large hams, we lost no time in riding over to father's for dinner, eager to tell of and talk over our hunting exploit. We well knew how much father and mother would enjoy the juicy steaks from those toothsome hams. Good coffee, hot buttermilk biscuits, or corn bread and fried venison, with cream gravy, and potatoes, was the favorite breakfast (or any other meal) of the southern man, and a hunter's delight. ]My mother was a cook worthy the name. Breakfast foods were then unknown, and as little 30 Dr. Owens-Adair. needed, as such a thing as a dyspeptic was never heard of, and the word, even, was scarcely comprehended. In the beginning of our married hfe, my father had ad- vised my husband to begin at once to fell trees, and hew them, and put up a good house before winter set in. There was an abundance of suitable timber on our land, near by, but he was never in any hurry to get down to work. In one way and another he managed to idle away the summer, going to camp-meetings, reading novels, and hunting. In September, when the mornings and evenings grew cold, we bought an old, second-hand stove, for $8.50, which we put up in one corner of the cabin. This was an inex- pressible comfort to me. Soon after this, we had a heavy rain, lasting all one day and night. The following morning our house was flooded, and in one corner the water was bub- bling up like a spring. This came from a gopher's hole. I have seen water spouting out of hillsides for days after a hard rain, due to gopher channels. Our cabin stood on a hillside, and the water was seeping and streaming down on us from the hill above. In order to protect ourselves from it, we were forced to dig a ditch on the upper side of the house, the bottom of which was below the foundation log ; and thus the water was successfully car- riew away. It was late in the fall before the logs for the new, 16x20 foot house were even ready to be hauled out. My father had provided two doors, two windows, shingles, nails, and rough lumber for the floor. (No ready planed lumber was to be had in those days. All planing was done by hand.) He had these all on the ground long before Mr. Hill had finished the logs ; but at last they were done, — cut the proper length, hewed flat on two sides, the bark removed, and deposited on the building-spot. They were notched to suit, as they were laid together, in building. When all was ready, father came, with men to raise the house, and mother with him, bringing pies and cakes, and to SoMK OF Hf-r Life Expfhifcnces. 31 help me with the (Hnncr. Quiltinj? parties, house-raisings, and hoj^-killinp^s were always social events in pioneer life. My father and the other men under his direction soon had the house up, with the opcnin.q-s for one door and windows sawed out ; and all dci)artcd happy with the sun yet hij:jh in the heavens. Father said, before startinj:^: "Now, Le- grand, go ricjht at it and put the roof on, for you can look out for a hard rain soon." Next morning' I slipped out of bed at 4 o'clock, and milked the cow, and when breakfast was almost ready, I skipped in, and tickled my husband's feet to waken him, and put him in a good humor (for he was not pleased with father's advice). At breakfast I said: "Now we have an early start, and we will just show father how soon we will have that roof on, and floor down." I was so excited over the prospect of having a fine new house, with a floor, and windows, that I felt equal to almost any task. In two days the rafters were up, and the roof was going on. Oh, how proud I was ! Our new house looked so big and tall beside the little old hut, and it was so nice to be able to look up and see no cracks large enough to let a snake through ; for, as the back of the old house was against the hill, it was but three or four feet there from the ground to the roof, upon which the snakes often crawled to sun theniselves. One of them actually did fall through into the house one day. By the time the roof was on, Mr. Hill began to get tired, and suggested a hunt, but I begged and coaxed for at least one-half of the floor, so that we could move in, till he reluc- tantlv went ahead. When sufficient floor was down to give room for our one-leg'ged bed, it was moved in. and I soon had it neatly made up. I then drove nails on which to hang our clothing, and other things that could be hung up, and then ornamented the floor by spreading one of my new% braided rugs in front of the bed, only wishing for room to put down the other to add to the charms of this growing 32 Dr. Owens-Adair. paradise. No young wife of unlimited wealth ever could have looked with more pride and pleasure on her rich velvet, or Turkish rug than I did on that to me precious rug, made by my own hands from old and new scraps given me by my mother. When a little over half the floor was done, Mr, Hill stopped to put in the door, which was not completed when he se- verely mashed the thumb of his left hand, which meant the loss of the nail, and a lay-off for some time. Oh, dear ! This was terrible. November was nearly gone ; the cooking must be done on the old stove in the hut, and we must sit there, with the rain leaking all around us ! The stove could not be moved into the new house till an opening was made for the pipe, and we had not sufficient pipe to reach out of it, had there been one. I was planning to get more pipe with the butter, and few eggs I could col- lect in the next few weeks. Our groceries had all come from the proceeds of my good cow, excepting what mother had given me. She always had a sack of good things ready for me whenever I visited her. Winter was upon us, and we were in a dilemma. I was not yet 15, but, girl as I was, I could but realize that this condition was due not only to poor management, but to want of industry and perseverance. I did not then know, however, that a man with a perfect right hand and a quick and willing wife to help him, could have gone right ahead and finished the work. My husband now suggested that we go to father's for a "visit." I did not like this, for I realized that father did not approve of his shiftlessness, but I had to consent, for he had begun to exhibit temper when I objected to any of his plans or suggestions. We got up the horses and saddled them, and, taking a change of clothing, and our cow and calf, and putting everything else into the new house, and nailing up the open- ings for the door and windows, — all of which was work no Some of Her Life Experiences. 33 less hard than J^oinjj;' on with the floc^rinj^, (lf>or and windows would have been, — we took ourselves and cow over to father's, where wc were always welcome, and found plenty of good things to eat. There we stayed for two weeks, when father got us pipe for the stove, and a box of groceries. He and mother also went home with us, and helped to put up the stove, and hang the door. After a time the remainder of the floor was laid, and the windows put in. Now the butter from the two cows supplied us with groceries. We had no neighbors nearer than father and mother. Mr. Hill had been receiving letters frequently during the winter from his father, and married sisters, all living in Jackson county, Oregon, and doing well, and well pleased with that section. His father had bought a fine farm, and twenty or thirty cows, lived on the main road, not far from the Siskiyou mountains, and received large prices at his own door for every pound of butter and cheese he produced. There was a rush for the California mines. They urged us to sell, and come out there in the spring. Spring was now at hand, and in April we were to pay three hundred dollars on our farm. We had not a dollar with which to meet the obligation. Nothing had been added to or taken from the place, excepting the house, and the hay for the stock, wheat for the chickens, and what the garden had yielded. The house, alone, had been permanently added, and that would not have been built but for my father's assist- ance. Mr. Hill was handy with tools, and could have had work at good wages, as a carpenter, at any time. The former owner was anxious to get the place back, and he offered us $60 to return it to him. This was more than we had expected, and with high hopes, we decided to go as soon as we could in the spring. I sold my chickens at the store for a pair of shoes, calico for two dresses, and a few other little things. 34 Dr. Owens-Adair. • I now again had bright hopes for the future, and felt quite rich in our worldly possessions of two horses, two cows, and one yearling heifer. We traded the younger calf and the remains of the crop for another horse, as I should have to ride my horse Queen, and drive the cows. The following is a description of our trip through that memorable canyon, which we passed on our way to Jackson county, written several years ago for publication : Transportation Facilities in Oregon and Northern Califor- nia, as told by Dr. Owens-Adair. To THE Editor: In the days of the early fifties, all freight, including the U. S. mail, was carried by pack- trains. The mule was to Oregon what the camel is to the great desert. The roads were never good, at the best, and in winter the mud was so deep that the laden animals often bcame mired beyond the power to extricate themselves, and had to be literally "snaked" out, as the packers call it. Even in summer, the worst places were extremely difficult and dangerous to pass. The packers were men of resource, ever ready for, and equal to an emergency. They had need to be, for those were times that tried and cultivated to their utmost every human power of endurance. Besides this, many of the pioneers were the flower of the East. More courageous, more forceful and enterprising, as well as more adventurous than thir fellows, they pushed on to find a broader field for their exploitation, through obstacles that weaker men feared to attack ; and found their reward in the free, whole-souled life of the frontier, and in the development of a sturdy char- acter not to be obtained in the narrower, more conventional surroundings.. The first time I ever saw a pack-train was in the early spring of 1854. My father, Thomas Owens, and his family, were then living just north of the bridge crossing the famous Deer Creek, near by the Roseburg mill ■ — the first flouring mill in Southern Oregon. Deer Creek Some of Her Life Experiences. . 35 runs through a beautiful valley, nestled between swelling hills and gentle slopes, and dotted picturesquely with fine oak, ash, pine, man/.anita, laurel, and other trees. The stream itself was thickly fringed with a generous and grace- ful growth of myrtle, crab-apple, vine-maple and willow ; with luxuriant vines of a wild white grape climbing their trunks. These grapes were similar to those in cultivation, excepting in size, and were equally palatable and wholesome. Berries in great variety abounded, in their season, including strawberries, huckleberries, service-berries, the blue elder- berry, blackberries and the wild Oregon grape, which is chiefly admired for its fragrant golden bloom, and its shin- ing, holly-like foliage. Groves of wild plums also furnished conserves to the pioneer housewife. This valley was then the feeding and breeding-grounds of thousands of deer, from which it received its name. They were attracted by the abundance of grass and excellent water, and especially by the salt springs, or "licks," which abounded in the neigh- borhood. It was an ideal pioneer home, and on this fresh spring morning it spread, an enchanting picture, before our door, as we heard the jangling bells of the long mule pack- train, plodding down the gentle slope toward the then primi- tive village of Roseburg. The roads were drying fast, but the mud was still deep and stiff in the low, level stretch near the creek. A freighted mule-train was a notable spectacle, and, as I said before, it was my first sight of one, as we had moved there but recently from Clatsop plains. We all hastened to the door to get a good view of it. On they came, the mules crowding each other down the hill with increasing activity, as if their legs as well as their spirits, were becom- ing "limbered" up by the warm sunshine, and soon reached the brink of that deceptive mud-hole, for, like thin ice, the dry crust gave way, and the foremost animals were "stuck" fast before their drivers could turn them to either side. Mules are commonly considered to be stupid creatures. 36 • Dr. Owens-Adair. However, these showed a great deal of sense. They realized their situation, and seemed to have perfect confidence in their rescuers, and stood perfect!}^ still, without an effort to extricate themselves. In a twinkling- three athletic fellows w^ere at hand, uncoiling their long, strong, braided rawhide ropes, or liariats, which they always carry coiled at their pommels. One rode in beside the mired mules, and in some, to me, inexplicable manner, instantaneously fastened his lariat to the pack-saddle of the foremost beast, to which he secured the ends of the other ropes of his two companions. Then the quick, sharp word, "pull away!" was given; the two other horsemen repeated the command, and their trained animals pulled so gallantly that the helpless mule, with his pack, was landed safely on solid ground in a "jiffy," where he was soon on his feet again, shaking off the mud, and vigorously switching his thin little tail, as he started off to join the procession ahead. x'Vnd so the work went on, till all were over the quagmire, and out of our sight. That for- midable mudhole has long since been converted into a paved street in the now beautiful and flourishing little city of Roseburg. I was married in 1854, and a year from that time, in the spring of 1855, my husband and I started to move farther south, to the foothills of the Siskiyou mountains, beyond Jacksonville. We had packed our possessions, which were few, in a w^agon, to which was attached a span of horses. I was to ride my thoroughbred mare, Queen. We waited sev- eral days, however, in order to go with a drove of cattle, as their drivers were to have a wagon and team in which to haul their outfit, and we could thus assist each other. When the drove of some 150 head of cattle arrived, we all set off, on May 1st, and on the next afternoon, reached the then famous camping-ground at the entrance of the canyon, which is now a town called Canyonville, twenty-five miles south of Roseburg. It was ten miles through this dreadful can- Some of IJkk Life Experiences. 37 yon, and it was called the worst Icn miles of road between Portland, Oregon, and Yreka, California ; but there was then no better way. There were several miles of it that had to be traveled through the bed oi the creek, over and between im- mense boulders, and the creek itself had to be crossed ninety- six times ! Besides all this, the road ran up and down hills, and on the edges of precipices into whose frightful depths few could look without dizziness. Many accidents occurred on this road. Pack animals and teams had gone over, never to be recovered. No one thought of attempting to start through this perilous pass excepting in the early morning, so we prepared to camp for the night. Late in the afternoon, to our great delight, a big train of seventy or eighty pack- mules and their drivers came up. We greeted them with welcoming cheers, and they responded with equal good- fellowship. A council was held, and it was decided that the mule-train should go first, followed by the cattle, so that they might stir up and tread down the mud, and make it possible for the wagons which followed to get through. I was then only a little past fifteen ; but a girl of fifteen was then con- sidered a grown woman. Though small, I was in perfect health, and as active as a squirrel. I was at home in the sad- dle, and felt perfect confidence in myself and my beautiful Queen; so I looked forward to the next day's trip as a real picnic, which it certainly was, though of a very different kind from what I had imagined. The captain of the pack-train had offered to take me with them, as he said no untrained horse with a rider could ever get safely through that canyon without help, of which I was speedily convinced. I never saw my gallant cavalier, the captain of that big mule-train, again after parting the next day, but his memory is still fresh in my mind. I can see him now% as he stood by my beautiful Queen, — tall, handsome and graceful, critically ex- amining every part of her trappings, after which he smiled down on me, and walked away to his supply mule, coming 38 Dr. Owens-Adair. back with a long, broad cinch, which he threw across my saddle, and quickly tightened over all, thus making every- thing doubly secure. Then, placing his right hand upon the back of my saddle, he bent forward, and extended his left for my foot, and with one light spring, I was seated in the saddle. Had this honest, cautious and capable frontiers- man been the captain of the ill-fated Gen. Slocum, or its inspector, 1020 helpless victims would not have been sacri- ficed to fire and flood, and heartless greed for gold. There were many brave and noble men in those days, clad in buck- skin, battling with the wilds of the wilderness. Those were times "that tried men's souls," but those heroes "came, saw and conquered." After seating me, the captain mounted his own horse. All was now ready, and the train entered the canyon. The first half mile was delightful. It was a perfect spring morn- ing. The sun was just rising over the hills, and all nature smiled a joyous response to his warm greeting. The happy birds twittered in the branches, and sweetly sang their morning anthems. The air was filled with the fragrance of the wealth of wild flowers that glorified the hillsides and sheltered valleys with their rich and varied tints, — for in no spot in the whole wide world have I seen so wonderful a variety, or such beauty of form and color, as in the native flora of this favored Umpqua Valley. It produces three dif- ferent varieties of the sweetest scented honeysuckles, and at least three distinct and beautiful lilies, yellow, straw-colored, purple and white. Violets, gorgeous rhododendrons and aza- leas- — but it is impossible to enumerate all the treasures of that garden of our flower-garlanded Oregon, The noble trees, the rolling hills, the verdant valleys, the gorgeous wild flowers, with their intoxicating fragrance, the genial, golden sunshine, and the blue sky over-arching all, made a picture little short of perfection — a dream of beauty never to be for- gotten. I was so filled with the romantic enthusiasm and SOMIC OF IfKK Lll'K I">XF'Rl{rK!SrCES, 39 exaltation of spirits insjjirccl by such channiiif^'- surrotindiii^s, that my young heart's buoyant emotions Inir.st forth i.i snatches of song. My sympathetic Queen i)arlook of my feelings, and felt the influence of the exhilarating atmo- sphere, and was ofif like a flash. I was but a feather on her back, and she was always ready to go when I gave her the rein. The captain had to put spurs to his horse to keep by my side. All too soon we caught up with the train, and entered the dense woods and deep mud, where romance re- tired, and stern reality stared us in the face. Much oi the road resembled a corduroy road of logs, laid parallel, and perhaps two feet apart ; though instead of logs^ it was formed of ridges of stiff mud, with deep furrows between each, worn by the feet of hundreds of pack-animals stepping into the same tracks as they passed, the ruts becoming deeper, and the ridges higher, as time went on. The summer months dried the roads in this condition, making it next to impossi- ble for a wag'on to get through. The mule leaders, each wearing a bell of different tone from all the others, followed in single file. They knew the danger, and seldom "bunched up." There was usually a driver to each ten or twelve mules, and these drivers were here and there, always on the lookout, and ready for an emergency, or an accident, which often occurred. The position of captain of a large mule freight-train, like that of the captain of a great ocean liner, was behind his command, that he might the better overlook and control its movements. We could hear the bells far ahead, and, as the captain and drivers knew the sound of each, if trouble oc- curred they instantly knew in what part of the train it was, even though it were out of their sight, in a curve of the road ahead. Every now and then there would come a call to ^'halt," when two or more drivers would go on and assist in helping some fallen animal. Our troubles soon began. The mud was so stiff and deep 40 Dr. Owens-Adair. that in some places it was well-nigh impossible for the heavily lad^n animals to get through, and they frequently became "stuck," and had to be pulled out. Entirely unaccustomed to such a road, my Queen became first nervous, and then frantic. She would try to step upon the hard ridges, and then slip, and plunge, and flounder, throwing mud all over herself and me. But the strong, firm hand was on her bit, and the kind, masterful voice, speaking gentle, soothing words in her ear. Only through such treatment by the captain, and the pres- ence of his own trained animal, could she ever have gotten through without injuring herself or her rider. I think she must have fallen twenty times on that trip, but the faithful captain held her gently, yet firmly, and in the most soothing tones, would appeal to her, as to a high-born lady, and his own sweetheart ; — "Easy, easy, now, my lady ;" "Come, now, my pretty birdie" ; "Gently now, my pretty girl" ; — meantime patting and caressing her. She soon understood, and, in time, learned to trust him, and to submit willingly to his guidance — and often, after he had safely guided her around some frightful mud-hole, or almost impassable barrier, and turned, with a reassuring caress, to mount his own faithful horse, who always kept closely behind. Queen would put out her nose for another pat, which she would be sure to get. Then he would exclaim : "Oh, you're a beauty ! Almost a.s lovely as a woman." When he was compelled to leave us by the roadside, to go forward to assist in extricating some unfortunate, he would say to me : "Now let me assist you off. It will rest you. I am afraid you will get very tired." Queen was restless in his absence, and anxiously watched for his coming. Intelligent animals always realize their sur roundings, and soon learn, in danger, to depend on the su- perior human intelligence. The woods reverberated with whoops, yells, and curses. The cattle "bunched up," crowded each other, and some Some of Her Life Experiences. 41 rolled down the hill to their death. The waj^oiis inircd so deeply that they had to be pried u]), and the teams doubled to pull them out. And so the long day wore on, until about 4 p. m., after twelve hours of desperately hard work, the rear end of the mule train emerged from the canyon upon a beautiful green slope, bedecked with wild flowers. The first part of the pack-train had already been relieved of their burdens, and were quietly grazing with intense enjoyment upon the luscious grass. The sight, to me, was perfectly enchanting, as I jumped off my poor, tired Queen. We were both covered frgm head to feet with mud. Our good, gal- lant friend speedily relieved her of her trappings, and the next minute she was down, rolling on the clean grass, and rubbing the mud from her handsome coat. The hun- gry cattle now appeared, and instantly made for the grass. Water they had had all day in plenty, but no food. Some of the men who got out first volunteered to go back and help bring out the, wagons, which sorely needed their aid. With their strong ropes , hitched on in front of the horses, they kept them on their feetj and helped them through, and both man and beast rejoiced at the end of their severe exertions. I assisted the packers, and we soon had a good supper for all, to which we sat down with appetites suited to the occa" ■sion, amid general congratulations on our good day's work. The next day we regretfully bade adieu to our good friends the packers, only wishing we could have kept up with them. And this was frojitier life ! Hard, strenuous, often dan- gerous, but full of free, fresh out-of-door enjoyment, and rich in those noblest qualities of the race, — courage, resolu- tion, patience, industry, honesty, hope, patriotism, chivalry, cheerfulness, helpful kindness and hearty good will. 42 Dr. Owens-Adair. CHAPTER IV. The remainder of our trip after getting through the can- yon, was uneventful, but pleasant. We remained several months with his father and mother, both assisting with the milking, and he on the farm and I in the house and dairy. At this time there was much gold excitement in and around Yreka, and Mr. Hill decided to go there, and think- ing we could not take the cows, he sold them. And now we had some money. Then he suggested that before we went off so far, we ride back and visit my folks. "It would only take a few weeks, and cost very little." By this time I was homesick, and, of course, glad to go, and so we went. I could see that father did not. approve of Mr. Hill's having sold my cows. He said to him : "Now take my advice, and settle down; and remember that a 'rolling stone gathers no moss.' It does not take long for a few head of cattle to grow into money." Our visit over, we mounted our horses, and said good- bye again. Along the road,' at convenient intervals, stood roadside inns, for the accommodation of travelers. One of the best of these was kept by two brothers, bachelors, one of whom stuttered badly. He was the cook and housekeeper. My husband knew them well, and always made it a point to stop there, coming and going. Just after we had alighted, and Mr. Hill was leading our horses away, a man rode up, and inquired how far it was to the next stopping-place. Our landlord, anxious to reply promptly, began stuttering and sputtering, twisting his face into the most frightful contortions, and working himself all over, in the effort to reply. SoMic OF IFi'K r.iFK Experiences, 43 The strani^cr sat on his horse, j^Mzinj^ at him in amaze- ment. At last the landlord hlurted out: "D — d — n it ! go on ! You'll get there b-beforc I can tell you !" and made for the house. I told the man it was about four miles, and he rode on, convulsed with laughter. This expression was repeated as a by-word on similar occasions by all the country round for many years, and may be current there now, for aught I know. From here we proceeded on to the mountain-house, then owned and kept by a Mr. Russell, the husband of Mr. Hill's youngest sister, who was one of the most lovely women I ever knew. She and I were about the same age, and we be- came very much attached to each other, and, I am happy to say, we have continued up to this time warm friends, with never a word to jar our pleasant relations. She, long since widowed, lives in Ashland, Oregon, surrounded by her ad- mirable family, and honored and loved by all who know her. I can say, with pride, that I have retained the respect and confidence of all Mr. Hill's family, who are, and have been among the most respected and esteemed pioneers of Jackson county, Oregon. We found the dwellers at the Mbuntain House in a state of great excitement. The day before, two men had been attacked and killed on the mountain, and the mail, and all travelers must wait till a sufficient number of men could be gathered together to make traveling safe, or till the soldiers could come to guard the U. S. mail and the teams. At the end of three days a large company was collected ; — at least half a dozen w^agons with families, a long pack-train, and a good many horsemen, and miners with their pack- animals. Men and women were not easily frightened in those days. With twenty men, well armed, we felt no fear. We started over that mountain more like a party going to a picnic, than people going into deadly danger. 44 Dr. Owexs-Adair. .The men, however, kept a sharp lookout for "the red devils," but saw none, and we reached Yreka safely, and in good time. ]\Ir. Hill had an aunt, his father's sister, a Mrs. Kelly, living' there. She had had but one son, who had been re- cently killed in the war with the Rogue River Indians, and her great sorrow for his loss was still fresh. As soon as she heard we were in town, she came at once to see us, and said to my husband : "Now, Legrand, you must get right to work ; there's plenty to do here, at good wages. But you must not leave this little wife of yours alone, for there are too many rough, drinking men in the place ; but she will be safe with me. I can help you both in many ways. So you pack up every- thing and move right over to my house." I was delighted, and she proved to be one of the dearest and best of mothers to me. She was a woman of executive ability, and a real money- maker ; but, like most women of such ability, she had a hus- band who wheedled it out of her about as fast as she made it. She kept from one to two cows and a flock of chickens, from w^hich she sold milk and eggs, made pies and cakes for sale, and took in sewing. She received $3 for making a • white shirt, and was paid for everything else in proportion. She was a most excellent seamstress, and she found in me a more than willing student, as I was anxious both to learn and to make money also. And so we worked together, she giving me all, and usvially more than I earned. Her husband was selfish and unsympathetic, and often scolded her for grieving for her dead boy, who was the son of her first husband. Then the poor mother would turn to me for sympathy, which she imfailingly received. She soon transferred her affection to me, and took great pride in mak- ing my clothes fit me perfectly, and in dressing me becom- ingly. Often she would say : Some of Her Life Experiences. 45 "Now, I amgoing to sec that you liave i)lcnly of nice clothes, and I shall not let you pj-ivc it to Lcj^rancl to fool away." (He had lived with her for eight or ten years in his boyhood, and she thoroughly understood him, and felt that she had a right to advise hini and instruct him as to what he ought to do. Had he followed her advice, he would have succeeded, in- stead of making a failure.) "Legrand," she would say, "I want you to buy a lot, while you have the money to pay for it. First thing you know, the money will all be gone, and you'll have nothing to show for it. Then, get in, and build a house. It is high time you were getting settled." In March a small, one-roomed, battened house, with a "lean-to" for a kitchen, and a lot, were for sale at $450, — only a block from Aunt Kelly's. That was then a great bar- gain, and we bought it, paying $300 down, all the money left from the sale of my two cows, heifer and the wagon and horses. My Queen was out on pasture, and continued to be a "bone of contention," as she was only an expense. But I stoutly refused to have her sold, and Aunt Kelly stood by me, declaring he should not sell her, as she would herself pay for her pasturage before it should be done. We moved into our new house in March, with the $150 mortgage hanging over us. On April 17th, 1856, our baby was born, and then Aunt Kelly begged me to give him to her, addressing me thus : "Now, Bethenia, you just give him to me. I will take him, and educate him, and make him my heir. I will give him all I have, and that is more than his father Avill ever do for him. I know very well that Legrand will just fool around all his life, and never accomplish anything." She seemed to think my consent to her having the child was all that was necessary. But my baby was too precious to give to anyone. I continued to work with Aunt Kellv. who was ahvavs 46 Dr. Ovvens-Adair. over-crowded with work, and as we were so near by each other, I could do much of it at my own home ; so that, in time, I was able to get many little conveniences and comforts for the house, beside a good share of our groceries. Mr. Hill neither drank or used tobacco, but, as his aunt said, he sim- ply idled away his time, doing a day's work here and there, but never continuing at anything. Then, too, he had a pas- sion for trading and speculating, always himself coming out a loser; and thus the time dragged on, until September, 1857, when who should drive up, one glad day, but my father and mother. Father had heard how things were going with us, and had come, prepared to take us back with them in case we were willing to go, but he was to discreet to let this be known till later. He and mother wanted to see the country ; the children were large enough to look out for things at home ; and they especially desired to see my baby. It did not take them long to understand that we were barely living "from hand to mouth," as it were, with most of the work coming on me, so father said : "How would you like to go back to Roseburg? It is a growing town. I have several acres in it, and if you think you would like to make the change, I will give you an acre of land, and the material for a good house, which you can put up this fall. The boys can help you, and there will al- ways be plenty of work at carpentering in town." To say that we were delighted with this proposal ex- presses it but faintly. We sold our house and lot in Yreka, realizing less than $100 out of the transaction, as the $150 mortgage and interest had to come out of the sum received for the property, but father said "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." We were soon packed, and ready to start again on our migrations. There was but one regret on my part, that was leaving dear old Aunt Kelly, who had been so good to me, and had taught me so many useful things. With many tears and sobs, I bade her good-bye. SoMii OF Her Life Experiences. 47 My tears were always near the surface in my younf:^ days, and overflowed easily. Mother frecjuently said, "Your tears lie very shallow ; you are always either at the top or bottom." There was no middle g-round for me, and my likes and dis- likes were positive in the extreme. The weather was fine, and we all enjoyed the trip, only one accident occurring, and that came near ending in a terrible tragedy. Mr. Hill was driving the team. Mother sat on the back seat, holding in her arms my youngest sister (now Mrs. Al- vah Pike, of Portland, Oregon). I sat on the front seat beside my husband, with my baby in my arms. My father was walking behind, leading my mare. Queen. As we were descending the Siskiyou mountains into Oregon, we came to a deep gulch, spanned by a high, narrow bridge, at least forty feet above the stream below, which ran among immense boulders. The road beyond was steep, narrow, and rocky, and turned sharply to the left. The moment we were across the bridge, Mr. Hill started up the horses briskly, applying the whip, to wdiich they were totally unaccustomed in climb- ing a hill. In springing suddenly and strongly forward, one wheel of the wagon came violently in contact with a large rock, and, in his hasty attempt to bring them around, he pulled the lines too hard, and they began to back toward the bridge. I saw the danger, and, instantly, with one bound, I was on the ground, with my babe in my arms. Turning, I heard father's commanding voice shouting "Whoa !" and saw him running toward us. The next instant he had seized the spokes of the wheel, and thrown his full strength into one supreme effort to check the wagon, which he succeeded in doing-, just as the wheel was at the very edge of the bridge ! Meanwhile, I had placed my baby on the ground and seized a solid chunk of wood that fortunately lay near, and wedged it under and behind the wheel. Thus an aw^ful tragedy was averted. Not till the danger was past did I 48 Dr. Owens-Adair. realize that I was hurt. I now found that I had sustained a. severe sprain of the instep of my right foot, from which I have suffered very much at times, ever since. Mother removed my shoe, and wrapped my foot in a thick cloth, saturated with water from the creek under the memorable bridge that came so near being our death, after which we continued our journey, father now driving, which he con- tinued thereafter to do on all bad places. On reaching home, father told me I could go over and select my acre of land, and our building-spot, which I gladly did. He told Mr. Hill he could have the team, and he and the boys could haul the lumber for our house, so that he could get to work on it at once. They hauled the lumber, but, in the meantime, Mr. Hill had been talking with a man about burning brick. This man had some land a mile from father's and a team, and he offered to go into equal partnership with Mr. Hill in the business of brickmaking there, each, beside his own work, furnishing one man to help, and I was to do the cooking for them all, for the use of the team. Father endeavored, in every way, to dissuade him from going into this undertaking, telling him that it would be impossible, so late in the season, to prepare a yard, and burn a kiln of brick before winter; and that the soil had never been tested, and there was no certainty that it was suitable for the purpose, etc., but the more he talked the more deter- mined Mr. Hill was to put all the little money we had into the venture, and so he moved me and my young child into a tent in a low, damp valley, near the river, and their work and mine was begun. But it was never half completed, for when they had only a few hundred of brick rpolded, it began to rain continuously, and put a stop to their work, and in addition to this ill-fortune, I was stricken down with typhoid fever. Father and mother came with the wagon, and moved us back to their home. It was now late in November ; winter was upon us, and still our house was not touched. Some of Her I.ife Experiences. 49 "When I became convalescent, father urged Mr. Hill to begin the house. He replied that he wanted a dcerl to the acre of land before beginning the house. Father then told him that he and mother had talked it over, and had decided to deed the property to me and the boy ; that he had given us one good start, and now, after three and a half years, we had nothing left but one horse, and that he thought it best to secure a home for me and the child in my own name. This enraged Mr. Hill, who said he would not build on the lot unless the deed was made to him, as he was the head of his family. Father advised him to think it over, and not to act rashly. He sulked for a time, and then bargained for a lot in town, after which he hired a team, and hauled the lumber off from the acre to the lot, and began to build the house. All this time we were living off father, who said nothing; but furnished the shingles, and told Mr. Hill to get nails, and anything he needed, at the store, on his account, which he did. In time, the roof was on, and the kitchen partly finished, and we moved in. . The kitchen was so open that the skunks, which were very numerous in that region at that time, came mider the floor nights, and up into the kitchen, where they rattled around among the pots and pans, even jumping on the table, and devouring the food, if I did not keep every- thing securely covered, while I often lay and listened to their nocturnal antics, not daring to get up to drive them out, as the dire consequences of disturbing them suddenly were well known, and dreaded. My health was poor. I had not been strong since the baby came, and I could not seem to recover from the effects of the fever. The baby was ill and fretful, much of the time, and things were going anything but smoothly. A short time before the climax, I went home and told my parents that I did not think I could stand it much longer. 50 Dr. Owens-Adair. Mother was indignant, and told me to come home, and let him go ; that "any man that could not make a living with the good starts and help he has had, never will make one; and with his temper, he is liable to kill you at any time." Father broke down, and shed tears, saying: "Oh, Bethenia, there has never been a divorce in my family, and I hope there never will be. I want you to go back, and try again, and do your best. After that, if you cannot possibly get along, come home." I went back, greatly relieved, for I knew that if I had to leave, I would be pro- tected. Our trouble usually started over the baby, who was unus- ually cross. He was such a sickly, tiny mite, with an abnor- mal, voracious appetite, but his father thought him old enough to be trained and disciplined, and would spank him unmer- cifully because he cried. This I could not endure, and war would be precipitated at once. A few days before our sepa- ration, his father fed him six hard-boiled eggs at supper, in spite of all I could do or say. I slept little that night, expecting that the child would be in convulsions before morning. And thus one thing led to another until the climax was reached. Early one morning in March, after a tempestuous scene of this sort, Mr. Hill threw the baby on the bed, and rushed down in town. As soon as he was out of sight, I put on my hat and shawl, and, gathering a few necessaries together for the baby, I flew over to father's. I found my brother ferrying a man across the river, and I went back with him. By this time, I was almost in a state of collapse, as I had ran all the way, — about three- fourths of a mile. Brother, seeing that something was wrong, and always ready to smooth out the wrinkles, took the baby with a smile, saying : "Give me that little 'piggy- wig" ; and shall I take you under my other arm ? It seems to me you're getting smaller every year. Now, just hang SoMK OK ITkr T.ifk Experiences. 51 on to mc, and I'll get you ii]) the liill, all ri^lit. Mother will have breakfast ready, and I guess a gfx)d square meal is what you need." The next day father saw Mr. Hill, and found he had been trying to sell the house and lot. Father told him that he would come with me to get my clothes, and a few things I needed, and that he (Mr. Hill) could have the rest. That he (father) would take care of me from that time on, and that when he (Mr. Hill) sold the house and lot, I would sign the deed, as the lot was not paid for, and the unfinished house would, according to law, go with it. However, before Mr. Hill found a purchaser, he had repented, and come several times to get me to go back to him. I said : "Legrand, I have told you many times that if we ever did separate, I would never go back, and I never will." 52 De. Owens - Adair. , CHAPTER V. And now, at eighteen years of age, I found myself, broken in spirit and health, again in my father's house, from which, only four short years before, I had gone with such a happy heart, and such bright hopes for the future. It seemed to me now that I should never be happy or strong again. I was, indeed, surrounded with difficulties seemingly insurmountable, — a husband for whom I had lost all love and respect, a divorce, the stigma of which would cling to me all my future life, and a sickly babe of two years in my arms, all rose darkly before me. At this time, I could scarcely read or write, and four years of trials, and hardships and privations sufficient to crush a mature woman, had wrought a painful change in the fresh, blooming child who had so buoyantly taken the duties and burdens of wifehood and motherhood on her young shoulders. I realized my position fully, and resolved to meet it bravely, and do my very best. Surrounded with an atmosphere of affection and cheerful- ness, with an abundance of nourishing food, my health rapidly returned, and with it came an increasing desire for education, that I might fit myself for the duties of a mother, and for the life yet before me. At this time, there was asi good a school as the country then afforded in Roseburg, distanf not more than half a mile. My little George, too, felt the beneficial change, fully as much as I did, for my mother's idea of raising children could not be improved upon — simply to give them sufficient wholesome food, keep them clean and happy, and let them live out of door as much as possible. George was such a tiny creature, and so active in his movements that my young brothers and sisters felt him no Some of TTi;i{ T.iric Experiences. 53 burden, and always had Iiim willi llicm out of doors; so after ponderinp^ the matter for some time, I said one day: "Mother, do you think I might manage to go to school?" "Why, yes," she answered ; "go right along. George is no troulile. The children will take care of him." I joyfully accepted this opportunity, and from that day on, I was up early and out to the barn, assisting with the milking, and doing all the work possible in the house, until 8 :30, when T went to school with the children, my younger brothers and sisters. Saturdays, with the aid of the children, I did the washing and ironing of the family, and kept up with my studies. At the end of my first four months' term I had finished the third reader, and made good progress with my other studies of spelling, writing, geography and arithmetic. In September, Mr. and Mrs. Hobson (Mrs. Hobson was my eldest sister, Diana) came to visit us ; and on their return home, Diana begged me to go home with them, and I went. With a light wagon, and a span of good horses, the trip over the same road and beautiful country through which I had passed five years before, was delightful. Soon after we reached my sister's home on Clatsop, only two miles from my father's old farm, we went on a visit to our good and worthy neighbor, Mrs. Morrison, who said to me : "Bethenia, why did you leave your husband?" "Because he whipped my baby unmercifully, and struck and choked me, — and I was never born to be struck by mortal man !" "But did he commit adultery?" "No." "Then, my dear child, take my advice, and go back, and beg him on your knees to receive you, — for the scriptures forbid the separation of man and wife for any other cause than adultery." 54 Dr. Owens - Adair. I replied : "I think there are other things quite as bad as that." She shook her head, with deep gravity, saying: "]\Iv child, you must not set up your opinion against the Holy Bible." Several years later, when I was again on Clatsop, Mrs. ■Morrison gave a quilting party, to which the whole neighbor- hood was invited. The weather was propitious, and every- body was expected to come early. The night before the party, a daughter of ]\'rs. Morrison, herself the mother of a large family, and expecting another soon, fled from her home and brutal husband, to her father's house for protec- tion. Her arms and face were bruised and swollen, and the livid marks of his cruel fingers were on her throat ! This was a terrible shock to the dear old lady's ideas of Bible interpretation, and when she saw me the next day, like the honest, sincere Christian that she was, she walked promptly up to me, and said, with much emotion : "Bethenia, a few years ago I chastised you because you left }-our husband for brutal abuse. God has justly punished me, and now, before all these women, I want to ask your forgiveness. When I saw my own child bruised and mutil- ated, T realized that there are things as bad as adultery." I threw my arms around that dear old neck, and we mingled our tears together. Long years after, when her time had come to bid this earth adieu, and I was called to attend her professionally, at her bedside I met her three daughters, now past the meridian of life, with kind faces and beautiful gray hair, all lovingly anxious to make their beloved mother's last hours as peaceful as possible. It has never been my lot to Avitness a death- bed where more Christian devotion and resignation were manifested. A few years later, when Captain Morrison, her husband, received his last call, and followed his saintly wife, I was again summoned to render my professional services. And still later, when the secretary of the Pioneer Asso- SoMK OF TTkr I.ii-e Experiences. 56 ciation asked mc to write biographical sketches of all the Clatsop pioneer women coming- to Oregon prior to 1849, to be i)reservc(l in the archives of the society, I did not forget to record tlic heroic deeds and self-sacrificing life of this grand woman, likening her, as her majestic carriage and exaltetl character well deserve, to Joan of Arc. Before going to Clatsop, in the fall of 1859, with my sister, I applied for a divorce, and the custody of my child, and petitioned for the restoration of my maiden name of Owens. In the spring of 1859, my brother Flem met me in Salem with a team, and together we returned to Roseburg in time for the session of court before which my case was to appear. The suit was strongly contested on account of the child, which Mr. Hill's widowed mother was anxious to have, thinking her son would be thus induced to make his home with her, so that she might remain in her own home, all her other children now having homes of their own. My father employed Hon. Stephen F. Chadwick on my behalf, and he won my suit, including the custody of my child, and the permission to resume my maiden name. A circumstance which seems stranger than fiction occurred more than thirty years later, when I was visiting Ex-Gov- ernor and Mrs. Chadwick, at their home in Salem by special invitation, during the session of the Legislature. They had visited us at our home in Sunnymead the sum- mer before. The Governor met me at the train, and seemed about in his usual health. We all attended the session of the Legis- lature that afternoon. At dinner the Governor had been conversing animatedly in his usual happy strain. "Jane," he said to his wife, "we'll give the doctor a feast next Thursday evening. You know we are to have our church social then." His daughter Mary who had just riaen to cliange his plate, remarked : 56 Dr. Owens - Adair. "We may not find so much to eat." "Oh, yes, we shall," he rejoined ; "I know how to get the best, and we will have it." At that moment, as his daughter moved toward the side- board, he gave a little characteristic cough, and she said: "Shall I get you a glass of water, papa?" "No, I thank you," was his reply. Turning toward the table the next instant with the dessert in her hand, she gave a piercing scream. I was sitting between him and his wife. Startled and alarmed, I looked up instantly, and saw the Governor sitting bolt upright, his head thrown back, and his face livid. I sprang to his side, laid him prone on the floor, and loosened his clothes, but to no avail. That noble heart was still; — the Governor was dead! Never, never before did I so deeply, keenly feel how true it is that in the midst of life and joy come sorrow and death. In the unexcelled language of Mrs. Hemans — "Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set, — but all Thou hast all seasons for thine own, oh Death. Thou art where friend meets friend, Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest; — Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumpets rend The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest." After the decree of the court was rendered giving me custody of my child, and my father's name, which I have never since discarded, and never will, I felt like a free woman. The world began to look bright once more, as with renewed vigor and reviving hope, I sought work in all honorable directions, even accepting washing, which was one of the most profitable occupations among the few considered "proper" for wonien in those days. Some of Iliiu J^U'E Exi-iiKiKNCKs. .67 (I am here reminded of a cliaractcristic, courageous, and, at the time, iconoclastic, declaration by Mrs. Duniway in the New Northwest, at the time of the bitter uprising against Chinese labor, and the summary expulsion of all Chinese from many localities on the Pacific Coast, to-wit: "White men will not wash. White women have no business to wash, and we must have Chinamen for that purpose!") My father objected to my doing washing for a living, and said : "Why can't you be contented to stay at home with us ; I am able to support you and your child?" But no. No amount of argument would shake my deter- mination to earn my own livelihood, and that of my child, so father bought me a sewing-machine, the first that ever came into that town, and so, with sewing and nursing, a year passed very profitably. My sister, Mrs. Hobson, now urged me to return to her on Clatsop, as she greatly needed my help. I went, but soon became restless, because of my intense thirst for learning. An education I must have, at whatever cost. Late in the fall of 18G0, sister and I went over to Oysterville, Wash., to visit my old and much-beloved girl-friend, M'rs. S. S. i\Iun- son. The few days which my sister had arranged to stay, passed all too quickly, so Captain and Mrs. Munson assured Mrs. Hobson that they would see that I reached home safely if I might stay till we "got our visit out." I told Mrs. Munson of my great anxiety for an education, and she immediately said : "Why not, then, stay with me, and go to school? We have a good school here, and I should like so much to have you with me, especially farther on." To this generous offer I replied that I would gladly accept it if I could only find some way of earning ni}- necessar}' expenses while attending school. Mrs. Munson replied : "There are my brother and his hired man; I can get you 58 Dr. Owens - Adair. their washing, which will bring you in from $1.00 to $1.50 per week, which will be all you will need." To this I gratefully assented ; and I did their washing evenings. Work to me then, was scarcely more than play, and, as "change in work brings rest," I assisted in the other domestic work with pleasure, especially as Mrs. Munson was a methodical and excellent housekeeper, and I loved and enjoyed order and neatness in the home above all things. Thus passed one of the pleasantest, and most profitable winters of my life, while, "whetted by what it fed on," my desire for knowledge grew daily stronger. My sister, Mrs. Hobson, now urged me to come back to her, and I said to her : "I am determined to get at least a common school educa- tion. I now know that I can support and educate myself and my boy, and I am resolved to do it; furthermore, I do not intend to do it over the washtub, either. Nor will I any longer work for my board and clothes, alone. You need me, and I am willing to stay with you the next six months, if you will arrange for me to go to school in Astoria next winter." She agreed to this. Some time later, I said to her : "Diana, don't you think I could teach a little summer school here on the plains ? I can rise at four, and help with the milking, and get all the other work done by 8 a. m., and I can do the washing mornings and evenings, and on Saturdays." She said: "You can try," so the following day I asked Mr. Hobson if he would not get up a little school for me. He replied : "Take the horse and go around among the neighbors and work it up yourself." I lost no time in carrying out his suggestion, and succeeded in getting the promise of sixteen pupils, for which I was to receive $8 each for three months. This was my first attempt to instruct others. Some oi- ih:ii Lii'e Expekikncks. 59 I taught my school in the old Presbyterian church, — the first Presbyterian church-building ever erected in Oregon. Of my sixteen pupils, there were three who were more advanced than myself, but I took their books home with me nights, and, with the help of my brother-in-law, I managed to prepare the lessons beforehand, and they never suspected my incompetency. From this school I received my first little fortune of $25 ; and I added to this by picking wild blackberries at odd times, which found a ready sale at fifty cents a gallon. Fall found me settled at the old Boelling hotel in Astoria, with my nephew, Frank Hobson, and my little son George. Our board was paid, I taking care of our small room, and our clothes, with the privilege of doing our washing and ironing on Saturdays. And now I encountered one of my sharpest trials, for, on entering school, and being examined in mental arithmetic, I was placed in the primary class ! Mr. Deardorff, the principal, kindly offered to assist me in that study after school, and, later, permitted me to enter both classes. Words can never express my humiliation at having to recite with children of from eight to fourteen years of age. This, however, was of brief duration, for in a few weeks I had advanced to the next class above, and was soon allowed to enter the third (and highest) class in mental arithmetic. At the end of the term of nine months, I had passed into most of the advanced classes ; — not that I was an apt scholar, for my knowledge has always been acquired by the hardest labor, — but by sheer determination, industr}- and persever- ance. At 4 a. m. my lamp was always burning, and I was poring over my books, — never allowing myself more than eight hours for sleep. Nothing was permitted to come between me and this, the greatest opportunity of my life. The following summer was spent on Clatsop with my 60 Dr. Owens - Adair. sister, milking, making butter, and assisting in all the labor- ious, and never-ending work of a well-managed farm. This was now 1862, during the civil war, and the State had called upon the counties to contribute to the Sanitary Commission, organized for the aid and comfort of our sol- diers in the field. Public interest and sympathy in the cause was intense, and all were ready to do their part. It was suggested, among other things, that Clatsop, being a dairy region, should furnish a mammoth cheese ; — but who was able to make it, and where could a hoop of sufficient size be found? It so happened that Mr. Hobson had a man working for him who had made cheese, and understood the process. He and I, therefore, voluntered to attempt the manufacture of the caseous monster, the milk to be furnished by the county. Milk was then abundant, and Mr. Hobson suggested that a small hogshead might answer for a hoop, by sawing off both ends, and using the middle, the iron bands around whicli could be filed off after the cheese was made. This was done. Several of the huge pots then so much in use for washing and soap-boiling, were provided, and also a number of large tubs for setting the curd ; and, with an improvised press, we were ready for the milk, which came in in lavish abundance, for this was everybody's cheese. When finished, the cheese was pronounced a complete success, and it certainly was, in size. Previous to the State Fair, where it was to be exhibited before its final' disposal, it was taken to Astoria, where it was sold at auction, sold and re-sold until the sum of $145 was realized in Clatsop county from our big cheese, for the good cause. After this, I was chosen to convey it, in the name of Clat- sop county, to the State Fair at Salem, the capital, where, notwithstanding my assertion that I did not deserve it all, the full credit for it was given to me, and circulars were sent Some of IIkii Life Experiences. 61 out setting forth in staring head-lines : MRS. OWENS' BIG CHEESE FROM CLATSOP COUNTY ! ! IT HAS ALREADY BROUGHT $145 IN ASTORIA!!! It will be on exhibition at the State Fair in Salenij after which it will be re-sold, and it and its proceeds sent to the soldiers in the field I ! This program was carried out, and I afterward heard that the total proceeds from our big cheese were between four and five hundred dollars. As to whether the cheese itself ever reached the "boys in blue," and whether or not they found it palatable, and digestible, I was not informed. Autumn having again arrived, I rented three rooms in what was then known as the "Old Gray House," in Astoria, a large, square, cupola-crowned wooden building, erected bv the late W. H. Gray, author of a history of Oregon, and occupied by himself and family for a number of years as a residence. It stood on the beach, its front resting on the ground, and its back supported by piles, five or six feet in height, over the waters of the Columbia river ; so that at high tide the house Avas almost entirely over the water, which at the highest tides flowed over the bank, and spread far out on the flats, toward the hills, requiring, at such times, a boat to reach the main town. This, however, was of rare occurrence. My rooms were in the second story, and several rooms on the same floor were occupied by a Mr. and Mrs. Lowell, excellent and cultivated young people, of exceptional per- sonal attractiveness. Their apartments were situated im- mediately across the hall from mine, and there were many empty rooms in the spacious old building, then otherwise un- occupied. Many had been the happy social gatherings in its bos- 62 Dr. Owens - Adair. pitable parlors below when occupied by Mr. Gray, his estimable wife, and their musically gifted, intelligent and social sons and daughters, and its vacant halls seem yet to ring with the sound of merry laughter, and pleasant voices of the past. Here, in three small rooms, I set up housekeeping, with barely the necessary furniture, and a scanty larder, which was supplied by my savings from blackberry-picking, and other odd jobs of sewing, crocheting, etc. I was ready and eager for school, but my daily expenses (for two, as my child was always with me,) must be met, and this is how it was done : I engaged to do the washing for two large families, and the washing and ironing for another, for which last I received two dollars weekly, and which I did at my rooms, evenings and Saturdays. Sunday night found me and little George at Capt. C.'s. At 4 a. m. Monday I was in the kitchen at my task. George went with their children to school at 8 :30, and at 10 a. m., my washing done, I followed them. Monday night, and Tuesday morning, this program was repeated at Dr. T.'s. For all this work, I received five dollars each week, in- cluding the kindest treatment from all my employers. This enabled me to meet all my expenses, especially as, living on the beach, George and I were able to pick up most of our wood from the drift. Thus I was as happy in my independence, I dare say, as is John D. Rockefeller, with all his "tainted" wealth, and far more hopeful for the long future yet before me. There was, at this time, in Astoria, a kind and estimable gentleman, of middle age, — Capt. A. C. Farnsworth, by name, a Columbia River bar pilot. Being a special friend of Mr. and Mrs. Hobson, he was familiar with my struggles for an education, from the first. One rainy evening, he called at my rooms. George had Some of IIeii Life Exi-kkiences. 63 been simply tucked into bed, and I was ironing- at tbe table, with my book in front of mc, for in this way I always studied while I worked, my hands, like those of the musician, being trained to do their mechanical part, with little assist- ance from my brains, whiqh were employed mainly else- where. Removing his heavy overcoat, and seating himself by the table, Captain Farnsworth said : "Have yoti no time to talk ?" "Oh, yes," I responded ; "I can talk and work, too." "Well," he continued, "I want you to put away that work. I have come to talk with you, and I want you to listen well to what I have to say." I closed the book, removed the ironing cloth, and basket, and sat down, not knowing what was coming, but feeling very apprehensive. He saw this, and smiling reassuringly, said: "Don't you ever get tired?" "Oh, yes, but I get rested easily, and quickly." "How long do you expect to go on in this way?" "I don't know," I answered. "I do not like to see you working in this way," he con- tinued ; "and I have come to see you as a friend ; and I want to be a true friend. I am alone in the world. The nearest relative I have is a nephew. I have more money than I need, and I think I cannot do better with it than help you." Trembling, and with moist eyes, I exclaimed : "No, no ! I cannot take money from you !" "Now do not be foolish," he hastened to say; "but listen to me. I know you are thinking it will compromise you ; besides, you are a great deal too independent for your own good. I am a good deal older than you are, and know vastly more of the world than you do, and I want you to thoroughly understand that if you accept the ofter I make you, you are never to feel under the slightest obligation to 64 Drx. Owens - Adair. me. ]\Iy offer is this : You are to select, and attend any school in the United States, for as long a time as you choose, and I will furnish the money for all the expenses of 3^ourself and bo}', and no one shall ever know from me where the money came from. If you say so, I will promise never even to write to you." Could there have been a more generous, unselfish offer? I was now in tears, but my self-will, independence, and in- experience decided me to refuse it. I preferred to rely on my own exertions, rather than to incur such an obligation from even so good a friend. The acceptance of that oft'er would doubtless have changed my whole life, but who can tell if for better or for worse? Captain Farnsworth was thoroughly disgusted with my obstinacy, and, though he continued a friend, he showed less interest in me from that time. I am free to acknowledge that many were the times during my after years of struggles and hardships, in my supreme effort to get ahead, in which I bitterly repented my hasty decision, feeling that it was the mistake of my life. The acceptance of that offer Avould have far earlier opened the doors of science, and saved me many long years of bitter experience, and irretrievably lost opportunities. Others, also, beside my generous friend, the Captain, had been observant of my efforts. At that tim^ Col. James Taylor and MSr. David Ingalls were the school directors of that district, and, as the wife of the principal was prevented by illness from continuing as assistant in the school, they generously selected me to fill her place at a salary of $25 per month, for the remaining three months of the term. This was, indeed, a wave of prosperity ! And, as one good thing sometimes brings another, I was offered a room and board, for the care of nine rooms in a private boarding-house, which I promptly accepted. I asked, and received, permission, while teaching in the primary department of the school, to SoMK OF IIkk Liit, F^xi-kiukncks. 05 recite in two of the advanced classes. 1 also joined a reading and sing'ing class which met an evening' of each week. When I took my place as teacher there, a young lady from ( Jysterville, who was far ahead of me when I attended that school with her two years hefore, now recited to me, a cir- cumstance that wont far toward removing the sting of humil- iation I had felt on heing placed in the jirimary arithmetic class, as before related. I'cfore the expiration of this term, I had received an offer to teach a three months' school in Bruceport, on Shoalwater Hay, at $25 per month and board. "And to board around." Judge Cyrus Olney was then county school su])erintend- ent, and it was with fear and termbling that T ai)]:)lied to him for examination and a certificate. But he said to me : "I know you are competent to teach that school. I have had my eye on you for over a year, and I know you will do your duty. I will send you a certificate." And he did. This was a great encouragement to me, and increased my determination to do my best. I accepted the school, and, with ni}- boy, I was away the very next day after my Astoria term closed, to Bruceport, where I began teaching at once. After I had taught here two weeks, a subscription was raised among the few fam- ilies, and more numerous oystermen, for another three months' school, (making a six months' term, in all). Before this was completed, I received and accepted an ofifer of the Oysterville school (the same school I first at- tended), where I "boarded around," as was then the pre- vailing custom. This enabled me to spend more time with my friends the ]\Iunsons, my friendship with whom has never grown less ; and when, over forty years later. Captain Munson received his last call from his Great Commander, mine was the sadly pleasant task of covering his casket with beautiful flowers from my garden, — flowers not more fra- grant than the memory of his constant kindness and genial, generous spirit will ever be to me. 60 De. Owens - Adair. Tv The^ Oysterville school then had the undesirable reputa- tion of being ungovernable, and it was my reputation for good government that secured me the situation, a reputation which was not lessened by an incident that transpired soon after I took charge of the school. • Among my pupils was a well-grown boy of eighteen. He was a well-disposed youth, but silly and injudicious men had guyed him about haying to mind a "school marm,"' and for a "joke," had put him up to breaking the rules, which I had written out, and hung up on the walls of the school room. ■ I had heard of this, and expected trouble. This boy whis- pered, and I rebuked him, explaining the necessity for the rule forbidding whispering in school, in the presence of the children. He soon repeated the offense, however, and I took no outward note of it, though aware that several of the pupils knew I had seen him. . On dismissing the school, I said to him, pleasantly : "Remain after school, a moment, please ; I want to speak to you." He kept his seat, and as the last child passed out, I locked the door, removing the key, which I always carried. - Going back to him, I said, kindly : "I know you are not a bad boy, but you are almost a man, and you should, and I intend you shall, set a good example before the younger members of this school. I will excuse you this time, with the understanding that if you repeat this offense, I will have to punish you before the whole school by giving you ten blows on the open hand with the ferrule, and if you attempt to resent this punishment, I will call in the directors, who will stand by and see it administered, for you must understand clearly that I am mistress of this school. You may go, now, and I hope I shall have no more trouble with you." I had none, thereafter. The curiosity of some of the children prompted them to Some of Her Life Experiences. G7 listen outside, and thronpi'li llic thiti l)oardcd walls they heard all that was said, and of cr)ursc repeated it so that it was generally known. On receivinj^- the offer of the Oysterville school, my reply was : "I will cnj^'age to teach for you, if the directors will pledge their support to the government of the school." This they readily did. There were three pupils in that school who made all the trouble; — an Irish girl, and two boys, and th.c girl was the ring-leader. It was not long before one of these boys stuck a pin into the girl sitting in front of him. I reprimanded him, but he only grinned impertinently. I told him to bring his lunch on the following day, and stay in during the noon hour. He failed to make his appearance the next morning, but in the afternoon, his older brother came, dragging him to school. I opened the door, and drew him in. He wore heavy shoes, and in his rage, he kicked me viciously. This was a trifle more than my temper could bear, and I seized him by the shoulder, and fairly churned the bench with him, which sub- dued the young gentleman (who had not expected to en- counter such muscle in a lady) in short order. At the close of the school, I gave him his choice between remaining in during the noon hour for one week, or receiv- ing five blows on each palm with the ferrule at once. He chose the whipping, and I administered it. The Irish girl was living with one of the directors, who afterward told me that she came running home that evening, exclaiming : "Well ! I tell you, it's no use fooling with that teacher. She don't scare worth a cent !" This girl of twelve proved to be one of my best pupils, both in behavior and aptitude. Before the close of this school I received a call from Clat- sop to teach a four months' school there, at $40 a month, and board myself. 68 Dr. Owens - Adair. It was again spring ; that loveliest season of the year, when Nature clothes the brown old earth with richest green, and pours out upon it her boundless treasure of beautiful and fragrant blossoms ; — "The time of the singing of birds," when my heart was always lightest. With my boy, I moved into the old parsonage at Skipanon, which had long been unoccupied, and had been used for storing hay. It stood in the midst of a green, grassy plot, now made sweet and beautiful by the thousands of wild violets and buttercups sprinkled over it. This I could have free of cost, and so, with a few boards and nails, and a little help from the kind neighbors, two rooms of the old house were made habitable, for the spring and summer months. I was as "happy as a lark." I was an expert, as experts went, in those days, on the sewing- machine, and with the crochet-needle. Crocheted nets were then much in vogue, and my crochet-needle was kept busy in making them. My work was always ready to take up, and thus every else unoccupied moment was filled in, and thus I made all our expenses for living, and more. I had, in this way, so far, managed to save up all my school money, and at the end of this term of four months, at $40 per month, I would have $400. My ambition now was to have a home of my own, and, with this brilliant pros- pect in view, I bought a half lot in Astoria, and contracted with a carpenter to build me a small, three-roomed cottage, with a cosy little porch. To this, my last school, I can look back with pleasure and satisfaction. The neighboring farmers and their families were kindness itself to me. They never forgot the teacher, and her little boy, but continually brought us good things to eat, and invitations to visit them over Sunday. I was invariably up by five o'clock, looking over all the lessons for the day. Then came breakfast, and at 8 :30 we were off for the pleasant mile walk to the school-house. SoMi". oi' l(i;i; Lii'i". ['"xi'iiRii'iNCKs. 09 Thus tin- four iikhiIIis sped plc'isanlly away, aiul when my sch(x)l closed, my little home in Astoria was ready for mc. It stood on the hack end f)f that heauliful and sit^htly lot on which 1. W. Case, the hanker, later hnill his handsome residence. I was as proud as a (jueen of my pretty little home, which was the first T had ever really owned ; and the fact that 1 had earned it all ni\s(lf made it douhl}- prized. I had won the respect of all, and now vv(jrk came to me from all directions. As I could "turn my hand" to almost anything;', and was anxious to accunuilate, I was never idle. During^ all these years, Mr. Hill had heen writini^, and urging- me to re-marry him, which I kindly, hut steadily refused to do. One winter night my machine was buzzing busily, while I sang as I sewed. There was a knock, I opened the door, and there stood the father of my child! He had come unan- nounced, thinking that his sudden appearance might over- come my opposition. But alas for him ! He found not the voung, ignorant, inexperienced child-mother whom he had neglected and mis- used, but a full-grown, self-reliant, self-supporting woman, who could look upon him only with pity. He soon realized that there was now a gulf between us which he could never hope to cross. During all the years since we had parted, he had never even offered to contribute one dollar to his child's support, nor had I ever received a dollar from any source which I had not fully earned. He said : "Can I come and take my boy down in town with me tomorrow? I will not ask you to awaken him tonight." I answered: "You may, if you will promise me that you will not try to run oil with him. as you have so often threatened to do." He said : "I will promise that." However, not daring to trust his word, I hastened, earlv 70 Dr. Owens - Adair. next morning, to the sheriff, and told him my trouble, and he smiled reassuringly, as he said : "Now don't you worry, my dear little woman, he will never get out of this town with your child." SOMK (JF IIkJC LiKK lixi'KKIICNCKS. 71 CHAPTER VI. In the fall I rented my little home, and went to visit my people in Roseburg. My brother and two of my sisters had married, and they all ur.^cd me to spend the winter among them. During my stage trip to Roseburg, as we were descending a hill, one very cold nighty some part of the stage, which was only a common farm wagon (a "dead-ax wagon" they called it then) gave way. The driver got out, and seeing that the break could not be temporarily repaired, fit for im- mediate use, he said to me : "We are four miles from the next station, and it is as cold as blazes! Now you and the boy just lie still, and try to keep warm till I can get back with a horse for you to ride. I'll try to get here in two hours, if I possibly can ; but it is dark, and the road is rough, so don't be scared if you hear the wolves howl ; for they wall not touch you. I will leave two of the horses here, in order to get back as soon as possible." George and I were lying in the bed of the w^agon, back ol the driver's seat, on an armful of straw, under a blanket and a buffalo-robe. We had been comfortable up to this time, as I had started with a hot brick, but it was growing colder, and now we began to become chilled. I removed George's shoes, and put his cold feet against my body, and held him close to me. The wolves began to howl ; the wind, laden with fine snow, whistled and whirled about us. The wolves kept up their dreary howling ; wdiile the horses stamped, and champed their bits, for they, too, were cold, and liked not the prox- imity of the wolves no better than did w'e ; but I was glad of their companionship, feeling that it was some protection. 72 Dr. Owens - Adair. It was all of two and a half hours before the driver and another man came to our relief, bringing a horse for me. They wrapped George snugly in a blanket, and we started, the driver leading the other horses. It was full daylight when we reached the station, where we were thawed out, and made comfortable. By noon we were again on our way and arrived at Roseburg in good time, where we received a warm welcome. Mr. Abraham, my new brother-in-law, was a merchant, and, among them all, I was persuaded to go into the business of dressmaking and millinery. Consequently, when spring opened, I established myself in a house just across the street from Mr. Abraham's store, he buying me a nice little stock of goods. Here for two years I plodded along, working early and late, and getting ahead pecuniarily much faster than I had ever yet done. I had saved my earnings, with which I had bought my home there, and had a good start, and a growing business, with plenty to eat, drink and wear. ]\Iy front yard, 12x20, was a gorgeous glory of color, and my beautiful flowers were the admiration of all the passers- by, while my back yard supplied an abundance of vegetables. My boy was in school, and with the respect of the com- munity, added, why was I not happy ? I was. Work brought its own pleasure, and sweet rewards. Five a. m. never found me in bed, though often did I awake at two a. m. in my chair, with my work still in my hand. But the young are soon rested, and as a change of work gives rest and health, I was blest with both. I had a time and place for everything, and I have found adherence to this rule through- out my life to be. one of the greatest aids to success in any pursuit. It was also then, as it still is, my habit to plan today for tomorrow. And now I am going over my past life, step by step, gleaning here and there what I hope may be of service to those who come after me, knowing full well how unde- SOMK OK TTkU Lll'K Kxi'KklKNCKS. 73 sirable and secminji;-Iy impossible such a life will seem to the youth of today, yd l)clicvinp^ its lessons oujij^ht to be of use to them in this as^c of tecniinj^'- wealth, and lavish expendi- ture, surrounded and protected as they are from all the hardships of frontier life, with the fountains of knowledge flowing free for them to drink, "without money, and with- out ])ricc." No more is it necessary for the student to pore over the old, thumb-worn book, b\' the light of a pitch stick, or a tow-string in a broken mug of refuse kitchen grease; — and yet those times and methods produced from and for this nation a Franklin, a Jefferson, a Greeley, a Clay, a Webster, and a Lincoln, and a host of others of less transcendent fame, but who possessed the sterling qualities of intelligent, incorruptible citizenship, and who rendered an incalculable aggregate of invaluable service to their country, and whom, if the youth of this generation equal they will do well. The very conquering of the apparently insurmountable obstacles to their progress by these illustrious citizens of our great Republic but added strength and luster to their char- acter and proved their worth, as does the emery the steel. The results of the methods of the past are before us, and command our highest admiration. Time will tell whether those of the present will prove a blessing or a curse to our beloved land. As I have already said, I had had two years of uninter- rupted success in my millinery and dressmaking business m Roseburg. The town had steadily grown, and now a new milliner made her advent. She moved in next door to me, and came right in, and looked me over, stock and all, also getting all the information I could give her. She told me incidentally that she had been a milliner for years ; that she had learned the trade, and understood it thoroughly, and had come there to begin business, and intended to remain. I was soon made to feel her power. She laughed at, and 74 Dr. Owens - Adair. ridiculed 1113- pretensions, saying that mine was only a "picked-up" business, and that I did not know the first prin- ciples of the trade. "She knew how to bleach and whiten all kinds of leghorn and white straws ; she could renew and make over all shapes and kinds of" hats ; she could also make hat-blocks, on which to press and shape hats, and make new frames," all of which was Greek to me, practically speaking. She came late in the fall, and her husband went, with his team, throughout the country, gathering up all the old hats, and advertising his wife's superior work as a milliner. All this was not only humiliating to me personally, but was a severe blow to my business. I was at my wits' end to know what to do, and how to do it. One beautiful day I sat thinking the matter over while eating my dinner at the table in front of a window which overlooked my new neigh- bor's kitchen door. I had seen her husband drive past the evening before, and unload several open boxes filled with old hats, and that day they were getting ready for cleaning, bleaching, and pressing. They set a table out in the sun, and placed upon it two new plaster of paris hat-blocks. Then the work began, not twenty feet from me. My house was above them, so that they could not see me, but I could not only see them, but could hear every word they said. For more than an hour I sat there, and in that brief time I learned the art of cleaning, stiffening, fitting, bleaching, and pressing hats. Oh, what a-revelation it was to me ! My heart was beating fast, and I felt that I had never learned so much in any one hour of my life before. I saw how easily it was all done, and how much profit there was in it. The new hats that year were very, very small (''pan- cakes"), and some of those old-fashioned hats would make three of them. Certainly two new ones could he made from Some of IIkk Lu'K Exi'Erii-:nci-:.s. 75 each of most of the ohl ones. Of course, the remnants would be considered useless by the owners, and were turned to profit by the cx])cjt niilliticr. I now knew that if I could f^et the blocks I could do the work, so T stc|)])cd down to the new milliner's shop, and asked her how much she would charj2^e to make me two blocks. She said : "Thirty dollars." I said : "T will think it over. I did not expect them to be so higfh." "You don't expect me to give away my lousiness, do you?" she asked. Then, snu'lins;-, she added, "Can you press hats?" I passed out, and as the door closed, I heard them laug'h- ing at my expense. This roused me almost to desperation, and I said to myself, "The day will come when I will show you that I can not only press hats, but do several other things ; and first of all, I will find out how to make hat- blocks." I now remembe'red a book I possessed, entitled, "Inquire Within." From this I learned how^ to mix plaster of paris for molds, and this gave me a foundation on which to ex- periment. T had the buckram frame, like those two new blocks of Mrs. , and I knew they must have made and shaped their blocks by the use of those frames, so I bought 50 cents' worth of plaster of paris at the drug-store, and set to work. My first attempt was a failure, but it proved to me that I was on the right road. I was in such a state of anxiety and excitement that I slept little that night. As soon as the stores were open in the morning, I pur- chased a dollar's w-orth of plaster of paris. During that anxious, wakeful night, I had gone over the ground thor- oughly in my mind, and was confident of success ; and suc- ceed I did. Words failed to express my triumphant joy that in less than twentv-four hours, I had obtained, and now held, the 76 Dr. Owens - Adair. key to that mysterious knowledge whose wonderful results had charmed away my customers. I began at once to put my freshly acquired knowledge into practice, resolving not to let a soul know how it was obtained. That same evening a lady called, bringing an old white leghorn hat. 'T want one of those little 'pancake' hats made from this," she said. "It has to be bleached and pressed, you know. Can you make it over?" "Certainly, I can," I answered. "Oh, I am so glad ! Mrs. said I would just have to take it to the new milliner, but I said I wasn't going to throw off on you ; I'd come here first, anyway. Now we'll pick out the trimming. Oh, you haven't any of that beautiful lace bugle fringe, have you? I must have that for the rim, it is so stylish, now. A^Irs. has it ; would you mind get- ting it there?" "Oh, no, not at all," I said. So, when the hat was cleaned, bleached, stiffened and pressed, and trimmed, all but the bugle lace, I wrapped it carefully, and with the package in my hand, I walked into the store of my rival with the pride of a full-grown peacock. Laying my parcel on the counter, and lifting a freshly- pressed straw braid hat of the same style as mine from the block which she kept there as an advertisement, I asked : "How much of that bugle fringe does it take to go around this hat?" "Three-quarters of a yard ; price, $1.00 a yard," was her reply. I laid down seventy-five cents, and said I would take three-quarters of a yard. As she was measuring it off, I said : "Please put a pin in there, till I see if it will be enough," unwrapping my hat, and measuring around it with the lace,. SoMic oi' IIi:k Lii-I'. 1'".\i'i:iapers, and for The New North- zvest, on these subjects, a few of which can be found in this volume by referring to the index. I had given much time and labor to temperance work, and had served in the highest office of the I. O. (i. T. On reaching Philadelphia, I matriculated in the Eclectic School of Medicine, and employed a private tutor. I also attended the lectures and clinics in the great Blockly Hospi- tal twice a week, as did all the medical students of the city. In due time, I received my degree, and returned to Rose- burg to wind up my business, which I had left in charge of my sister. A few days after my return, an old man without friends died, and the six physicians who had all attended him at various times, decided to hold an autopsy. At their meeting, Dr. Palmer, who had not forgotten my former "impudence"' in using his instrument, made a motion to invite the new "Philadelphia" doctor to be present. This was carried, and a messenger was dispatched to me with a written invitation. I knew this meant no honor for me, but I said : "Give the doctors my compliments, and say that I will be there in a few minutes." The messenger left, and I followed close behind him. I waited outside until he went in and closed the door. I heard him say, in excited tones : "She said to give you her compliments, and that she'd be here in a minute." Then came a roar of laughter, after which I quietly opened the door and walked in, went for- ward, and shook hands with Dr. Hoover, who advanced to meet me, saying: "Do you know that the autopsy is on the genital organs ?" "No," I answered ; "but one part of the human body should be as sacred to the physician as another." Dr. Palmer here stepped back, saying : "I object to a wo- man's being present at a male autopsy, and if she is allowed to remain. I shall retire!" 8-1 Dr. Owens - Adair. "I came here by written invitation," I said; "and I will leave it to a vote whether I go or stay ; but first, I would like to ask Dr. Palmer what is the difference between the attend- ance of a woman at a male autopsy, and the attendance of a man at a female autopsy?" Dr. Hoover said : "Well, I voted for you to come, and I will stick to it." Another said: "I voted yes, and I'll not g"o back on it." Two more said the same, making a majority of the six. Dr. Hamilton then said : "I did not vote, but I have no objection," thus leaving Dr. Palmer only, who said: "Then I will retire," which he did amid the cheers and laughter of forty or fifty men and boys in and outside the old shed, where the corpse lay on a board, supported by two saw- bucks, and covered with a worn gray blanket. They were there to see and hear all that was to be seen and done. One of the doctors opened an old medicine case, and offered it to me. "You do not want me to do the work, do you ?" I asked, in surprise. "Oh, yes, yes, go ahead," he said. I took the case and complied. The news of what was going on had spread to every house in town, and the excitement was at fever-heat. When I had at last finished the dissection, the audience (not the doctors) gave me tlixee cheers. As I passed out and down on my way home, the street was lined on both sides with men, women and children, all anxious to get a look at "the woman who dared," to see what sort of a strange, anomalous being she was. The women were shocked and scandalized ! The men were disgusted, but amused, thinking it "such a good joke on the doctors." When I moved to North Yakima, Wash., in 1899, a Mrs. Thomas Redfield called on me, and we were soon fast friends. At our first meeting she said : "Of course, you don't remember me, but I remember well the first time I ever saw you." SoMic OF TTki{ T.irK l''xi-i:iut I do want to tell you now that I always did have the .greatest respect for you." "Now, T do not look at it in that way," said I. "If you had not gone out to Roseburg, and goaded me on, by show- ing me how little I really knew a1)out millinery, I might have been out there yet, making poor hats and bonnets. But you proved the truth of what a friend once said to me: 'If 1 wished to increase your height two and a half inches, I would attempt to press you down, and you would grow up- ward from sheer resentment.' So now, you see, my dear friend, that you have all along been my good angel in dis- guise. I owe you a great debt of gratitude, and I intend to repay it, with interest." And I did, for her health was restored, and, from that hour, arose a friendship between us which lasted till her death. Only three years ago we exchanged photographs. During 1878, before leaving for the East, I provided a home in Forest Grove for Mattie, Avhere she could continue her studies. On my return she hastened to Portland to see her foster mother. She was now^ twenty, and full-grown. "Well, Mattie," I said, "I thought you might be married by this time. Haven't you found a sweetheart?" I playfully asked her. "No, I haven't ; and I don't want one. I want to come and live with you." "And what do you want to do? ^^'ould you like to be a doctor ?" "I will do anvthing vou want me to do, and think I can do." "Then go back and get vour things. I will be settled and 100 Dr. Owens - Adair. ready for }-ou in a few da}s ; and then I will make a doctor of you." She was soon with me, my dear, good Alattie Belle. Had I had a hundred children, I ani sure none could have been more faithful, or loved me better. She was always a sun- beam, not only in my heart, but in my home, as well. She graduated in medicine, but never left me till death claimed her, in 1893. Thus passed three of the happiest and most prosperous years of my life. Health, hosts of friends, and unbroken prosperity; what more could I ask, or desire? When asked, as I often was, why I did not marry, I al- ways responded : "I am m.arried. I am married to my pro- fession," — and I was honest in that belief. But the time came which is said to come to all, when I was ready and willing to add. another name to mine, and it came about in this way : Oregon was about to vote on the Woman Suffrage Amendment. On an April morning, I saw C. W. Fulton's name in the list of arrivals from As- toria, and, knowing that he was a friend of the cause, I drove directly to his hotel. Stepping to the counter, I inquired of the clerk : "Has Mr. C. W. Fulton breakfasted yet ?" I heard chairs moving behind me, and Mr. Fulton's voice saying : "Yes, Doctor, I am here. And don't you know these three gentlemen?" He, with Col. John Adair, and his two broth- ers, were all having breakfast at the same table, and they urged me to join them. We made a jolly party, all talking Woman Suffrage, as we partook of the morning meal. I had not seen any of the Adairs for years. General Adair and my father had been warm friends, as Kentuckians can be ; and when I was thirteen, John was a large, hand- some boy of his age, with the most beautiful curly auburn hair imaginable. I admired, and was quite fascinated with SoMi': OF lli:ii Lii'K Experiences. 101 him, then. lie came to my home occasionally with his father. I had attended school with liis hrothers, S. D. and Wilhani Adair, in the sixties. For (icneral y\dair, their father, I always had the most profound admiration, and when, years later, I looked upon his nohle face for the last time, as it lay in the casket, I thought*! had never seen so beautiful a countenance. To mc it was a true mdex of his honorable and u])right life, and it was then, and must ever be, a comfort to me to know that he was always my friend. "Friend after friend departs ; Who has not lost a friend? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end." 102 Db. Owens - Adair. CHAPTER VIII. Colonel Adair and I were married July 24, 1884, in the First Congregational Church of Portland, Oregon.' The church was filled by the invited guests, a number of whom were from Roseburg, 200 miles distant. When Ave left the church, the street was lined on both sides with friends and uninvited people, and when the car- riage rolled awa}', many called out : 'Goodbye, Doctor, goodbye!" We drove to the home of my sister, Airs. Hyman Abra- ham, who had prepared a reception for us, after which we boarded the boat for Astoria, and from there to San Fran- cisco. After a month's absence, we returned to Portland, and T took up my work where I had left it. More than twenty-one years have passed since I plighted my marriage vows. Many sorrows have been interspersed with the pleasures of my married life, and during all these years, I have been as active and determined as in former days. I have never flinched from any undertaking, and I hope I never shall, to the day of my death ; but during these later years, I have often looked back over my past life, not with a shudder, but to gain strength and courage to meet the financial difficulties that had accumulated, and threatened to engulf me. My yearly income at the time of my marriage was fully $7,000. Colonel Adair is an optomist of a happy and cheerful dis- position, and, as I have frequently said, he is usually among the clouds, and rarely gets down to terra Urma. There were no dark shadows in his pictures, and my love Some of Her Live Exi-erienxils. IO.'J for him knew no bounds. Soon after our marriaj^^c lie in- duced me to invest in a larj^e i)ro])erty, neai; Astoria, in which he saw millions in the near future. A large portion of this was unreclaimed tide land. Rec- lamation at that time was very ex]:)ensive, and little under- stood. I was earnestly advised not to invest in the propo- sition. At the ag"e of forty-seven I gave birth to a little daughter; and now my joy knew no limit, — my cup of bliss was full to overflowing. A son I had, and a daughter was what I most desired. For her my plans were all made. She should be my constant companion. With her nurse, I would take her on all my rounds. She should imbibe the love of the profession not only from her mother's milk, but by constant association, as well. She should have all I possessed, and a!! that could be added. But ah, how little we mortals know what is in store for us ! And how well it is that we do not know. God's ways are not our ways, and they are past our understanding. For three days only, was she left with us, and then my treasure was taken from me, to join the immortal hosts beyond all earthly pain and sorrow. "There is no flock, however watched and tended. But one dead lamb is there. There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended. But has one vacant chair. She is not dead, the child of our affection, — But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection. And Christ, Himself, doth rule." J\Iy grief was so excessive I felt it was more than I could bear, unsupported by the companionship of my husband, who, with the aid of twentv-five Chinamen, were trving to 104 Dr. Owens - Adair. reclaim the tide-land, a task which did seem, as his brother once said, "Like fighting- the Pacific Ocean." So I said to him : "I will go to Astoria, where I can be near you. I can have a practice anywhere, and I cannot endure our separation, now that our baby is gone." I rented a pretty home there, for two years, and money came as usual, tmtil the two years were nearly past, when I was stricken with typhus fever, due to defective drainage. Be- lieving that my time had come, I said : "Bring me an attorney, that I may make my will while my mind is yet clear." My will was made, but my time had not yet come, and I recovered slowly. My husband now urged me to go to the farm, saying : "Your health absolutely demands the change. In that pure, fresh air you can soon regain your health and strength. In less than two years railroad trains will be running across our land, and our fortunes will be assured, and you will never need to work again." In my weakened condition, I consented, and July 1st, 1888, found us on the farm, where we remained eleven years. Now, as I look back, I realize that that move was one of the greatest mistakes of my life. I soon, however, recovered my health, and accustomed vigor and energy, and was _ ready for business. During all those eleven years, I carried on mv professional work as best I could, in that out-of-the-way place ; and at no time did I ever refuse a call, day or night, rain or shine. I was often compelled to go on foot, through trails so overhung with dense undergrowth, and obstructed with logs and roots, that a horse and rider could not get past; and through muddy and flooded tide-lands in gum boots. A few cases will better illustrate the nature of much of my practice, and the hardships which were entailed upon the physician in that locality. SOMK (JF UkII LiKK P^XI'KRIICNCKS. 105 One day a Mr. William Larson came, saying: "My wife is sick. Come at once." There was a most terrific south- west storm raging, and we had a mile to go on foot over the tide-land before reachin.^" the Lewis and Clark Kiver The land was Hooded, the mud and slush deep, and the swollen sloughs had to be crossed on logs and planks. Nearly the whole distance was overgrown with enormous bunches of wire-grass, many being three feet across. This long, intertwined grass was a great obstruction to walking, and I fell prone, again and again, before reaching the river. M\ boots were filled with water, and I was drenched to the skin. The wind was howling, and dead ahead. Mr. Larsen was a powerful man, and a master-hand with the oars. He sprang into the boat, throwing off his hat and two coats, and began to remove his outer shirt, saying : "You must excuse me. Doctor, but if I ever get you there, I shall have to strip near to the skin." I thoroughly understood the situation, and well knew that the odds were against us ; and I fully expected that, not- withstanding his uncommon strength and skill, we would be compelled to land far below our starting point on the oppo- site side, and be forced to make our way over tide-lands many times worse than that we had already crossed. How- ever, before we had gone many rods from shore, the shrill whistle of his little steam milk-launch was borne to us in that on-rushing storm, and she now came shooting out of the big slough leading to his house, with the terrible storm at her stern forcing her onward. In his anxiety and distress, i\Ir. Larsen's first thought was that his wife was dead, and in the anguish of his heart, with tears streaming over his face, he cried out : "My God! My God! My wife is dead!'" "No, no! Your wife is not dead," I said. "Captain Johnson has returned from Astoria, and knowing you could not get me there, has come for us." Which proved to be the fact. 106 Dr. Owens -Adair. As soon as the launch was in haihng" distance, he called out: "How is my wife?" "A-1-1 r-i-g'-h-t," instantly came the cheering reply. The sudden reaction of relief came near being too much for that strong man, Avho had a heart to match his powerful frame. I had most of the practice in that section, and made many trips to that neighborhood. One warm day, Mr. Irving Jeffers came rushing up to the house, hat in hand, his forehead and face bathed in perspira- tion. He said: "My wife is sick; can you come at once?" He had been running nearly all the way over that same road. The ground was now dry, but the tangled wire-grass was about as difficult to get through as it was in winter. His anxiety was so great, I found it hard to keep up with him, and I fell several times before reaching the river. When nearly there, he ran ahead, and had the boat ready for me to jump in without a moment's delay. It did not take him long to cross that beautiful river, which was then as smooth as glass ; then up the Jefifers slough, and to the landing, at the boat-house. The lovely boat-trip had rested me, and I was ready for the short run to the house. As soon as we came in sight of it, however, we saw his mother, Mrs, Elijah Jeffers, on the front porch, who waved her hand and called to us not to run. He forged ahead, however, and was soon at the bedside of his beautiful wife. His mother came to meet me, saying : "I expect Irving has run you nearly to death. I told him not to hurry you, but he is half beside himself." The worst storm, without exception, that I ever exper- ienced on Clatsop occurred one dark winter night. It had been raining and blowing fiercely all day, but that night was truly fearful ! The wind howled, and shrieked in fury ; the house trembled, shook and swayed ; the rain fell in a deluge. We could not sleep. SoMK OF llicji LiKK Experiences. 107 "This is such a niL;lit as I might expect a call from Sea- side" (fifteen miles distant), I said; "and I feel as if T should be called any minute." "Well, you'll not go. I'm sure of that," said my husband. I made no reply. Sure enough, at four a. m. a lantern-light flashed across my window. (It was my custom to raise my window-shade on retiring.) I was out of bed in an instant, hurrying on my clothes. The door-bell rang, and the man said : "The Doctor is wanted at Seaside. I left there at ten last night. The storm has been at my back all the way, but I could not get here any sooner. There are trees down all through the woods. I had to leave my horse half a mile back, and come on on foot. We shall have to cut our way out." Colonel Adair said : "It is simply impossible for my wife to attempt this trip. It is really dangerous for anyone to be out in the woods in such a storm, with the trees falling all around." "I promised to go, and I must go," I said. "There is no other doctor nearer than Astoria, and after this storm they might not be able to get one from there sooner than twenty- four to forty-eight hours ; so saddle the horse ; I will be down to the barn by the time you are ready." I succeeded in reaching the barn without being blown off my feet, by taking the driveway under the hill. After I was in the saddle, a blanket with a hole in its center was drawn over my head, and its corners, sides and ends made fast to the saddle and cinch. Thus, in true Indian fashion, my wraps were held in place, and I could not be blown o?t. The messenger and my husband armed themselves with axes and lanterns, and we started for the woods. We found five trees in the road, and after two hours' hard work, we got around and past them. After we got out of the woods, the horses found great difficulty in facing the storm, and my good, sensible old horse wanted to go home. I was so 108 Drx. Owens - Adair. bundled and tied up. I had little control of him, and the messenger had to coiue back and lead him for some miles. After daylight the storm began to abate, and by ten a. m. it was over, and the sun was shining. We found man} more trees across the road, but we finally reached our des- tination, at eleven a. m., and found the folks anxiously hoping for our arrival, and fearing they would have to dis- patch a messenger to Astoria, which would have been a serious undertaking, as the railroad track was, in places, completely blocked with fallen timber. I quickly relieved their anxiety, and was ready to return as soon as my horse was fed, and I had had my dinner, not having had any breakfast. In addition to my professional duties, I worked early and late, in the house, and on the farm. There was little on the farm that I could not do. In the winter of 1893-3, during which time my husband made two trips to New York in the interest of the Astoria Railroad, I had full charge of the farm ; and often spent from three to seven hours in the day in the saddle looking after the stock. But in time that terrible mental and physical strain began to tell upon me. Rheumatism, which is heredi- tary in my family, had taken hold of me, and was fast under- mining my health. In the winter of 1898 my husband became alarmed, and begged me to go to North Yakima, Wash., and spend the holidays with my son and his family, in the hope of benefit- ting my health. I went ; and that high altitude, and dry climate acted like magic. In but a few days, I was relieved of rheumatism, and felt twenty years younger. I now confided my troubles to my son, who said : "You will die, or be a cripple for life, if you do not get out of that wet climate. Let the old farm go, and come up here. I am sure you can make $150 a month, and that is better than going behind that much. You ought never to Somp: ok TTi;k T.mp: F.xi-kkiences. 109 have <:;()ne tluif." All of which I well knew was the truth. I said: "I will conic," and he smiled, for he knew that meant decision. "Well, niolher, I will look out for a house and (jffice for you. Spring opens here In' tlu' fu-st of .\]iril, and \(>y\ r)ught to be here by that time." "I will he here," I replied. "But I Avant you to secure me living-rooms in connection with my office. Help cannot be depended upon, and the expense of a separate house would be much greater, and more than I can afford. I shall do my own work, which will be play beside that which I shall be leaving." My mind being made up, and my plans formed, I felt more buoyant, happy and hopeful than I had for years, for I felt confident that I could now save at least a portion of our properties. I wrote to Colonel Adair saying : "I shall be home soon, and I want you to be prepared for a revela- tion." Upon reaching home, I told him : "I have decided to move to North Yakima. We will rent the farm, sell off all the stock, and pay off as much of the debt as possible. Wa have three months in which to accomplish this." He re- garded me with perfect amazement ! "Well, my dear, I earnestly advise you to think seriously of this before taking such a step. It is a terrible thing to give up our home at our age." "I cannot feel that in reality we own anything that is cov- ered with mortgages," I answered. "A $34,000 debt at eight and ten per cent interest will, at no distant time, leave us without a house or home. I shall soon become a cripple if T continue to live in this wet climate. Death, to me. would be preferable. T shall make money, and you ought, with your education, to be able to get into some kind of paying business." My wishes were carried out to the letter, and April 6th 110 Dr. Owens - Adair. found us in North Yakima, Wash., where, in one week, we w^ere comfortably settled in four lovely rooms. Three days later I performed a surgical operation for which I received $100. I found many persons who had seen and heard of me as a physician, and so business came, as in former days. On the last day of June we started overland to Seaside, Clatsop, Ore., to spend the two hot months near our Sunn_\- mead home. I at once opened my office at this popular summer resort, which brought me in several hundred dollars. Upon returning to North Yakima, the first of September, I found another $100 surgical case awaiting me ; and thus my business increased. The following summer, instead of going to Seaside, I went to Chicago, and entered the Chicago Clinincal School, for physicians only, and received a post-graduate degree. I found it exceedingly hard attending lectures and clinics from nine till six, and from eight to nine p. m., in that intense Chicago heat, where people were dying frequently from sunstroke. I left home July 1st, and returned Sep- tember 11th, feeling well repaid, and equipped for going on with my professional work. I had reviewed my past work, and been brought up to date, just what I needed, after those eleven years on the farm. After another prosperous year, the summer found us again at the seaside, with my sign out. That vacation proved the most profitable of any preceding it, from a money point of view. I was, of course, compelled to remain at my office, except when on professional duty. As my business increased, I found that my professional, social and household duties were pressing me very hard. T said : "Colonel, I cannot attend to my professional work which must not be neglected, and keep house any longer. You are in no business here, and I think you had better take John and go back to Sunnymead. John's health is poor Some of Her Lii'i-: ICxi-kujencks. 1 1 1 here, but he will i^el strcjiij^" on ihe farm, for which he is always grieving. If you cannot get into business down there, you can certainly see that the place is kept up. I will stay here until the properties are made self-supporting, and we have a sufficient income to enable us to live comfortably on the farm, and llicn 1 slirdl be glad to retire, and return home." In June, 1!)02, he and John went to Sunnxmcad, and es- tablished themselves in our home there. Our renters were living in a cottage at the foot of the hill. I have spent my vacations with them since that time. My mother and niec were with them nearly a year. Thus, for three and one-half years, I continued on, each year bringing increased rewards, but I was growing tired of that constant, grinding treadmill, not that I was not physi- cally and mentally competent, however. I had more time for reading and writing than I had ever had before, and I improved it. I still took my cold bath every morning, fol- lowing it with vigorous physical exercise, which kept me in perfect health, and I had a large country practice, which I greatly enjoyed. I had a good horse and buggy, and always did my own driving. It was nothing for me to drive twentv to thirty miles at a time, day or night. I was not at all timid, and I never took my age into account, but my son and good daughter-in-law did. She would say: "Mamma, you are getting too old for that sort of work, and I do not like to see you do it." "But I am not old, Hattie. mentally or physically. I am strong and healthy ; my step is quick and active ; and you know I can endure more now than most women of forty- five, and if everybod}' here did not know I am Dr. Hill's mother, I would not be thought any older." "But then we know }ou are." "Oh, yes. and according to Dr. Osier I ought to have been chloroformed five rears ago." 112 Dr. Owens - Adair. "But, mamma, you have been struggling and toiling all your life, making thousands and thousands of dollars, and denying yourself all the comforts and pleasures of life, when you ought to have been living off the proceeds of the money you have earned, instead of slaving to pay off miserable debts." "Yes, that is all true, but what is done cannot be undone. Two years ago I set my stake, as I did in early life, saying : 'When I reach those figures, I will stop. With continued health and strength, I shall be read}' to retire in 1906, — perhaps sooner. Then the properties will be self-support- ing, and my investments here will return me sufficient in- come to assure a comfortable support on the farm.' " That time came, sooner by several months than I had ex- pected, and so, on October 10th, 1905, I closed my office door in North Yakima, where the community had so gen- erously shown their confidence and friendship by giving me their patronage, and paying for my services a sum which amounted, approximately, to $25,000. After having received the kindest appreciation from friends, the public and the press, I bade the fair city adieu, and with my good horse. Pride, started in my carriage for The Dalles, much desiring to make the trip overland once more. I took dinner with my esteemed friends, the Hardi- sons, of Parker, reaching the Simcoe Mountains that even- ing, where I was kindly entertained by the Jensens ; reached Goldendale the next evening, and enjoyed a visit till the afternoon of the following day with my friends, Mr. and Mrs. John Hess. Reaching The Dalles, I took passage for myself and horse on the steamer, enjoying once again that wonderful trip down the Columbia, amid scenery acknowl- edged to be among the grandest in the whole world. Reached Portland, the metropolis of Oregon, at four p. m. Enjoyed dinner and a short visit with my sisters and nieces, and then boarded the Potter, which landed me in Astoria at seven Some of Heh Life Experiences. 113 a. ni. Driving- to Senator ('. W. T*"uUon's, 1 breakfasted with tlicm, after wliieh I drove on over to Sunnymcad, and reached there well and happy, having made the journey in four days, collected $10 of bad debts, and made $20 more on the way, and having enjoyed the trip exceedingly, notwith- standing the earnest counsel of many that it was too late in the season to cross the mountains, — I was sure to have breakdowns, etc. I knew my good horse. Pride, and I had confidence in myself. It was simply undertaking what T had been doing for years, and was to me a stimulant and rest,, away from responsibility, sickness and pain. After two months on the farm with Colonel Adair and John, I em- barlced on the steamer Roanoke, en route for National Cit}', San Diego County, California, where I now am with my old and much loved friend, Mrs. Inez E. Parker, in January, in her cosy little "Wren's Nest." In this the most beautiful of climates, amid the singing of birds, and the fragrance of flowers, I at last find myself free to take up that work which, for so many years, I had planned to do after m.y retirement, — write a book on medicine from a woman's standpoint. During the last few years, however, bv the ad- vice of friends, and after due reflection and consideration, I have decided that my first effort at book-making should be one of reference to, and records of early events, together with short sketches of the lives of various pioneers of Oregon, especially those of Clatsop County, which was my first, and is to be my last home, and, in addition, a short, plain, truth- ful story of my own life. In rehearsing it, I have purposely stripped it of the sentiment, love and romance \\ ith \\hich my nature has always been super-charged, and which has cheered me on and given me health and happiness through- out a long career. Such are and should be bright and sacred spots in any we^man's life, the memories of which can never be obliterated. I have preserved hundreds of pages filled with sentiment, and overflowing with love and adoration, to 114 Dr. Owens - Adair. which I can turn and drink again at the fountain of youth, and mature hfe. A deathless love for spring-time, the youth of animal and plant-life, is perennial in m}' heart, and in that sweet season, Sunnymead shall put on her gorgeous robes of beautiful blossoms and shrubs and flowers. The old house shall be renewed and re-dressed, inside and out, and made ready for our friends. My husband loves to en- tertain ; the latch-string of our Sunnymead home shall al- ways be found outside, and plentiful pot-luck within. In 1888, Dr. Hills' wife died, and I received my then only grand-child, A'ictor Adair Hill, into my heart and home. Years after, when Dr. Hill married again, I prevailed upon him to allow Colonel Adair and myself to adopt Victor, making him our heir-at-law. In 3 891 I officiated at the birth of a boy whose mother gave me her child. I took the little orphan to my bosom, and gave it a share of my mother-love, and, with my hus- band's consent, I called him John Adair, Jr. Colonel Adair and I have perpetuated our family name through a plot known as Sunnymead Addition to Astoria. Through the farm and plot run three beautiful streams, one of which we have named Adair Creek, another Mattie Belle, and the third, Vera Creek. The longest street is Hill Street ; another is called Victor Street. I hope to live to see my grand-son, Victor Adair Hill, my boy, John, and my grand-daughter, Vera Owens Hill, all grown, and settled in life, before I take my departure. Some of Her Life Experiences. 115 CHAPTER IX. Perilous Trij^ of the Steamship Roanoke. Having' been requested by a number of tbc passene^ers of the Roanoke to give the Oregonian an account of her late perilous trip to San Francisco from Portland, I respectfully submit the following : At three p. m., November 27th, 1905, Captain Dunham, master of the steamship Roanoke, attempted to cross the Humboldt Bar at Eureka. There was a heavy sea, and the bar was very rough. When nearly across, a tremendous breaker caught the ship, driving her out of the channel, and carrying away her rudder. The Captain endeavored to swing her back into the channel, but, finding she would not obey her rudder, promptly backed her. At this moment the next huge on-coming breaker, gathering force as it came, struck her with a stupendous force that, combined with the skilful maneuvers of the Captain, swung her completely around, with her prow toward the sea. Had this mightly wave moved against, instead of with his efforts, we should have inevitably been lost, as the ship was heavily laden, and would have been speedily ground to fragments on that seeth- ing, sinuous bar. Then, with added steam, she was forced across the spit, on which she struck three times as she passed, with such violence as to cause her to shiver from stem to stern, with a noise like the roar of a cannon, into deep water. Now she rent the air with piercing signals of distress, and calls for help. Meantime she was vigorously struggling, so far as was possible, in her disabled condition, to escape the bar, and reach the open sea. Finally, she succeeded in reach- ing comparative safety, and soon afterward a tug from 116 Dfx. Owens -Adair. Eureka came out, losing one of her life-boats on the bar in crossing, to our assistance. She stood by all that night, in case her help should be needed. The barometer then in- dicated fair weather. The whole of that night was occupied by Captain Dunham and his crew in rigging a jury rudder, which was put in place about eight a. m. Between six and seven, Captain Dunham had dismissed the tug, directing its master to tele- graph to the company at San Francisco that he would pro- ceed under jury rudder, and requesting them to dispatch a tug to meet him, which would find the Roanoke about twenty-five miles from shore. Almost immediately the new rudder broke, and was ren- dered useless, after which each day was employed in con- structing and shipping new rudders, all of which soon met the same fate as did the others. About ten a. m. a south- east (off-shore) breeze providentially sprung up, which ma- terially aided us in getting out to set ; for, as the ship re- volved in her rudderless condition, each time her bow was pointed seaward, the full force of the engines was exerted to force her forward, thus, in seaman's phrase, "kicking" her ahead ; the favoring wind helped hold her to her course till the maneuver was accomplished. This continued till between eight and nine that evening, when a terrific north- east gale set in, lashing the sea into a raging fury, and last- ing till three the next morning. And now, for the first time in my life, I realized the full and awful import of that much-used expression, "Like a ship at sea without a rudder." Lying prone on my back ; clinging desperately to the bars of the berth above me to prevent being thrown violently from my own, and, perhaps, crushed to death, my ears filled with the pandemonium overhead, and all around, — furniture banging from side to side, crockery smashing, everything movable in constant and violent collision, the wind shriek- SoMli Ol' I IkII LiI'K F.xperiences. 1 17 ini;', and tons dF waler crasbinj:,'' down upon us, even filling the smoke-stack, — every awful pluniL^'-e of the vessel threat- ening to engulf her, — so the long hours dragged on. In the midst of all this, a life-boat was wrenched from its davits, and smashed into kindling-wood; anrl two immense iron life-rafts were torn loose, and raked the deck back and forth with every movement of that laboring ship, adding their distracting uproar to the dreadful din. As if this were not enough, the jib-sail, by the assistance of which the Cap- tain was vainly endeavoring to guide his distressed vessel, was torn loose, and came thundering to the deck, the boom barely escaping his own and his first officer's heads, and forcing its way through a deck window. In the expressive language of Rev. De Witt Talmage, "God, in His infinite mercy, snatched us from the jaws of death, and delivered us out of the regions of hell." About three a. m., Wednesday, the 20th, to the joy of all on board, the fearful storm ceased, but the waves, lashed by its jury, still ran mountain-high, but gradually calmed down. On Thanksgiving morning the sun shone, out like the approving smile of God upon us ; and warmed us back to renewed life and hope. On Wednesday morning the Captain had said to me at the breakfast table : "We shall be in San Francisco on Tlianksgiving" ; for he had great faith in the rudder then under construction ; but. unfor- tunatel}^ it, also, was carried away almost as soon as it was in position. Nothing daunted, another was promptly be- gun, and in the form of what is called a "log." made of two spars lashed tog'ether. This not proving a success, i: was hoisted on board, and a boom lashed between the spars, and a 500-pound anchor attached. This, as last, proved the successful rudder which enabled us to make four or five miles an hour. Our Thanksgiving was spent on board, where an excel- lent dinner was enjoyed by every passenger. While at times lis Du. Owens -Adair, obliged to hold to the table to preserve equilibrium, all were only too glad to exchange deadly danger for such slight dis- comfort. Late in the evening the doctored rudder was lowered, and the staunch ship began to assert her normal power. Friday morning was bright and beautiful, and we kept on our course rejoicing. At three-thirty Saturday morning, December 2d, the tug Reliance, sent out by the owners to our assistance, arrived from San Francisco, and stood close by till after daylight, when she was attached to the stern of the Roanoke, where she acted as a rudder until we had passed through the Golden Gate, after which she came alongside the steamship, and assisted her to her pier. On Friday we had seen several ships, and at ten p. m., a Seattle steamer spoke us and threw her search-light upon us ; then steamed away to San Francisco, where she re- ported our safety. Saturday, after getting well inside the harbor, marked excitement was seen. First came a little tug belonging to the company, whose crew and ours seemed to be friends, and their joyful greetings of "Hello, Jack," or "Jii"n," or "Charley," and "Harry," showed where the heart was. But what pleased me most was the greeting from a young boy on the tug to another on the Roanoke. The ex- pression of happiness on the face of that young lad was a sight to be remembered. He seemed to see no one but his friend. A score of boats were soon around us, making fast to the Reliance, and climbing from her to our decks, were reporters and men galore. An officer of the company came out in a small boat, and climbed over the Reliance to us, leaving his boatman in the skifif. By some movement of her propellor the tug upset the small boat, which glided off like a shot. The occupant, who had jumped clear of danger, swam for his upturned boat, and scrambled up on her bottom, where he held on pluckily. SoMii (jK IIi:r J.iik I'^xi-krikncks. 110 T1km-c was a stronj:,^ cbl) lidc, .iiid the boat was floating' off rapidly. Our crew tlinvv liim a lift'-buoy, which he couU! nol rt'ai-h. I Ic hcL;:ni ai oiicc In divest himself of clothing, while our crew were hastily lowerinjif a life-boat, which was st)()ii in the water, and oCf to the rescue. Meantime, a beau- tiful little steamer, — a (jovernnicnt boat, raced out unrler f\d] steam, and rescued the man, while the life-boat went on, and picked up the empty boat, and the sailor's coat, vest arJ hat. After this delay, we proceeded to the dock. It was a singular, and not at all pleasant sensation, which we felt, as we read our names in the published death-list, well knowing what that must have meant to the loved ones at home. One young man, on his way to Arizona for his health, said to me : "Think what my poor mother must have suf- fered ! But I have telegraphed." There was a general rush to the telegraph office, the mo- ment we could leave the steamer, to send our already-pre- pared messages home. It seemed almost like being resur- rected, to be again on solid ground. There was one pas- senger, booked for Eureka, worthy of mention, — a rine, handsome $1,000 thoroughbred horse. During the storm his fastenings were broken, and he was pounded about most unmercifully, and finally thrown to the deck, where, m order to save his life, he was lashed down on his side. Thus he lay till Friday afternoon, when the sailors raised him with block and tackle, supporting him in a swing, with mat- tresses around him, to prevent further injury. On reaching the dock, he was gotten ashore, and a veterinary surgeon called at once. The first thing he did, before taking him to the hospital for horses, was to open three abscesses. He also found one more, to be opened later. He pronounced the prospects for the valuable animal's recovery good, though the blemishes he must always carry would be re- minders of that memorable vovaee. 120 Dn. Owens -Adair. There were man}' interesting and characteristic occur- rences on board the Roanoke during our eventful trip, in addition to those included in my report to the Oregon! an and the Yakima p.epublic, which might make good reading. I will mention only a few. During the beginning of the storm, a lady was thrown violently to the floor, and sustained a severe scalp wound. Her son, a young man, rushing to his mother's assistance, was pitched with such frightful force against the piano tl:at one of its legs was broken completely off. With great dif- ficulty mother and son were carried to the nearest stateroom, to receive needed attention. AVith a steady barometer, the appearance of the sun, and a calming sea, our heart-felt Thanksgiving was ushered in, bringing with it a hope and happiness which shone on every face. Nowhere, perhaps, in the wide world are attachments and friendships more quickly formed than on shipboard. We had an intelligent company, and talent, as well, and excellent music, both instrumental and vocal, was furnished, that crippled piano being kept busy sending out sweet and melodious sounds, while the young folks never seemed to. tire of coon and love-songs, in which all would join in the chorus, with hearty good-will. The Captain allowed a young man in the steerage, — a gentleman in education and manners, — to come to the first cabin to add to our entertainment. He made the piano "talk" eloquently by the hour. Countless jokes and puns were indulged in, at the expense of the Roanoke, and, in this way, we learned that we had a real, live poet on board, Mrs. Bancroft, of Portland, Oregon, as the following will attest : SoiMF, ()i<' lli;i{ I. Ill'; ICxi'i'.uiENCES. 121 "Dear Santa Clans, send ns a riuMer ; We need one awfully bad; Wc lost our own on ICurck-a bar; — Mafic anotbcr with a rotten sj)ar ; And now we don't know where we are , Our plii^ht is very sad. This is a dreadful lliini^: to be bumped Around in a stormy sea. We've asked the Captain to stO|) the ship ; Have given all the crew the ti[) ; But it's all no go, — they don't care a rip, So send us a rudder, C. O. D." The first persons I met, on boarding the Roanoke at As- toria, were Mr. and Mrs. A. T. Webb, pioneers of Portland, Or. They had seen my name in the passenger list, and were looking out for me. I was delighted to find friends, and espe- cially so to find we were all booked for San Pedro. The next morning after our belated arrival in San Francisco we embarked on the beautiful steamer Santa Rosa for Southern California. This delightful trip acted as a soothing balm to our wearied minds and bodies. It did not seem possible that we were on the ocean. It certainl}' is the most lovely sea-voy- age any person could ever expect to take. We were in sight of the shore almost the entire distance of over seven hundred miles ; and, with the aid of Mr. Webb's field glasses, and sometimes without them, we could see herds of horses and cattle feeding on the hillsides, and get excellent views of the farms, villages and cities, as we glided on so smoothly. At Los Angeles we reluctantly parted company, to meet in San Diego a few weeks later. I reached San Diego early in the morning of December 5, where my life-long friend, Mrs. Inez E. Parker, met me at the depot, and we were both happy to meet on this earth once more. We were soon on our war to her cosv little home, "The Wren's Nest," 122 Dr. Owens - Adair. which to me will be a quiet haven of rest. I hope the beau- ties of this pretty little suburb will inspire the muse to come to my aid, that I ma}' use the golden pen, even as Captain Lemon said I would do, on the occasion of its presentation by Syringa Chapter, — "For the good of humanity." With an extract from a letter from my friend, Miss Mary Wherry, I will close this chapter : Toppenish, Wash., Dec. 4, 1905. i\'Iy Dear Friend — You will never know with what anxiety we watched for reports of the Roanolce, not knowing wheth- er you sailed on her or not, but believing you did. If you were aboard, allow us to congratulate you on your safe arrival. It must have been a dreadful experience. I'll bet you helped the crew to fix the jury-rudder, if they would allow vou. At any rate, you will have some more valuable matter for your book. It did not seem possible now that you are just getting through your struggle, — just getting ready to live, — that you could meet with such a dreadful death. I hope you will live many more useful years yet; and I truly hope that all your undertakings will be crowned with success, and when you start on your final voyage that you mav enter the Golden Gate as safely as you did this time. Some of IIi:r Lfro Experiences. 123 ClfAITRR X. CHRISTMAS OF r.)()."), WHICH i-.kcan so happily, and came NEAR ICNDING IN A TRAGEDY. The sun rose in all his cffulf^cnt i^lory. The birds were singing their early Christmas anthems, while the flowers were adding their sweet fragrance. The morning was filled with many and varied Christmas blessings. Mrs. Parker and I were up on time, adding our congratulations for all the beauties and blessings which surrounded us. We were to take our Christmas dinner, by invitation, with our mutual friends, Mr. and Mrs. Pitman Parker, of San Diego. Mrs. Parker had said, "Be sure and come early, so we can have a good visit," and we had decided to leave "The Wren's Nest" at 8 :oO a. m., so as to catch the nine o'clock train to town. In the midst of our preparations a good neighbor appeared with one hand full of holly and a live chicken in the other, — a "Merry Christmas" for 'Sirs. Parker, who was profuse in her thanks, but said, "I am afraid I shall never be able to kill it." "Don't worry," I said ; "I'll attend to that. Better let me kill it now." "No, the poor thing shall have one more day to live," she said, and started off with it, as I sup- posed to shut it up in a little chicken house at the back. But in a few moments, to my astonishment, I saw Mr. Chicken marching around in a small enclosure which had recently been planted with great care to vegetables, the peas just beginning to make their appearance. "For goodness sake ! What did you put that chicken in there for? There won't be a pea or anything left by the time we get home," I exclaimed. Back she went to catch the chicken, but, having good wings and no mind to be 124 Dk. Owens - Adair. caught again, he was outside in two seconds. Then we both salHed out in the deep, dewy grass and tried to drive him back into the yard, but I soon gave up the chase and returned to prepare breakfast. At last she got him headed toward a neighbor who kept chickens, where she hoped to recover him later. Coming to a thick cypress hedge, he took refuge in it, and wedged himself as far in as he could, where he was captured. I saw her coming, stroking and talking reassuringly to the chicken. I went to meet her, and said : "You had better let me kill the chicken, and be done with it." "'Well, perhaps that is the way to give the least suffer- ing to the poor thing," she said, with tears in her voice. She ran for the hatchet, but it was all over before she could get back, and in fifteen minutes more it was dressed and in the cold safe, ready for our next day's dinner. We were at the station ahead of time, each carrying a huge bundle of roots, cuttings and flowers, as Christmas offerings to our hosts. Strange ! We heard no train coming ; we could always hear it twenty minutes before it reached our station. At last it dawned upon us that, as the "9" was a freight train, with only an accommodation car attached, it had been laid off for the day, and we were not very sure of a ten o'clock train, either, so, as it was only three and one- half miles to our destination, I said, "Let us walk ; the road is so beautiful, with the mountains on one side and the bay on the other," and off we went, enjoying ever}^ step of it. After a delicious dinner and a delightful social time we concluded to walk home, as the train did not reach our station till 5 :30. We started about 4 :30 p. m. The oiled road was smooth and level, the scenery of mountains, bay and islands grand, and the day was like "a day in June." "What is so rare as a day in June ?" SoMic <)i' WvM I.iiic F,xi'p:f. I 'aimer, died at our home, Sunnymcad, near Astoria, at one o'clock, on the morn- ing of October Ki, Ihji)-"). Her death was unexpected, after a very l)rief iUness, and was a j:^rievous allliction to our home circle. Her loss will be sorely felt by a larjj^e number of warm friends in both Washin.i^lon and California, as well as in Oregon. Miss Palmer was a self-sacrificing, earnest worker for good all her life, and she especially gave much time to work with the Yo.ung Women's Christian Temperance Unions of Portland and Astoria. In both these cities she endeared herself to many of their most worthy people by her cheerful readiness at all times to do real Christian work. Many a poor sufferer in the hospitals of those cities has been cheered by her visits. She was born in Indiana, September 23, 18G1. Her parents removed from Indiana to Oregon in 1863, and set- tled near Fort Vancouver. While Mattie was yet a little girl her mother was brought to my house, an invalid, for treat- ment, where she remained till her death, and, becoming at- tached to me, she asked me to take one of her three little daughters. Mr. Palmer soon after gave me Mattie, and she proved as loving and faithful as my own child could have done from that time .to her death. She leaves a brother and two sisters living. It gave me great pleasure to educate and do for her. vShe obtained a degree of Doctor of Medicine from the Willamette University, of Oregon, having graduated in the class of 1886. She was so fond of home tliatshe was never willing to leave us to take up the practice of medicine for herself. Indeed, she was such a home-body that we were hardly able to persuade her to visit the Columbian Ex- position in June last, and even up to within a few days of her starting she would say : "\\''ell, I am not gone yet, and 136 Dr. Owens - Adair. I am not sure but I will give up the trip at last." She was in tears most of the day before leaving us for Chicago. She was absent six weeks, her very longest visit from home, going East with my son and his wife, and, with them, had an opportunity of visiting her native state. She devoted one month to the great fair, and was full of the wonders of the beautiful exposition, declaring frequently that she could not have learned so much of the world in years of travel. Early in life Miss Palmer united with the First Congrega- tional Church of Portland, and remained a consistent Chris- tian throughout her life. She was a member and active worker in the Young People's Christian Endeavor, as well as in the W. C. T. U. She had a fine mind, a most honest and loving nature. Her disposition was so pleasant and sunny that her pres- ence in our home was always most agreeable, and her loss can only be obviated by the years that must come and go. We miss her every day and hour, and can hardly reconcile ourselves to believe that she will never again occupy her vacant chair. Dr. Palmer was a great and exceedingly good reader. I mean that she read only choice matter, and read it well, and having a most excellent memory, she was good authority on almost any subject. Appreciating her abilities, we antici- pated especial pleasure to be derived from her visit to the great White City. But the ways of God are not our ways, and He has taken our dear girl from us while she was yet in the prime and vigor of her young life. His will be done. We have received many letters of condolence from highly esteemed friends, who knew our good child well, both pro- fessionally and socially. These letters contain heartfelt sym- pathy for us, and well-deserved tributes of friendship to our dear girl. I will only quote a few expressions from those who had especial opportunities for knowing Miss Palmer intimately. Mrs. A. R. Riggs, our State W. C. T. U. President, writes : Some of Her Life Experiences. 137 "Dear Friends — I know not how to express the feehngs of sadness and sorrow which at first overwhehncd me on hearing of the death of dear Doctor Mattie Palmer, — our Mattie, as we so often called her when she was so closely associated with the work of the W. C. T. U. in Portland, before your removal to Astoria. It was in this work that I learned so much of the value of her really fine character, always quiet and unassuming; she needed to be well known to be appreciated. Truly, this world has lost one who would have done much to lift it to a higher and better plane. Why she should have been called when she was approaching a mature and well-rounded womanhood, we cannot tell; only He knoweth who is able to heal your sorrow and fill the sad vacancy in your hearts. May 'He who woundeth and His hands make whole' be your consolation in this, your hour of trial." Mrs. M. E. Hoxter, of Forest Grove, writes : 'T know how much you loved and trusted her, and I want you to feel that you have the sympathy of Mr. Hoxter and my- self." Mrs. Dr. G. J. Hill, of North Yakima, Wash., says : "One great comfort to us all is that we know dear Mattie was a true woman, and may God help us so to live that we may meet her in heaven." Mrs. C. O. Hosford, of Mount Tabor, Ore., says : "How sorry we are that we could not have been with you in your time of great sorrow, to help and comfort you." Mrs. R. B. Brenham, of Portland, writes : "I cannot for- bear the expression of my sincere sympathy with you and your husband in your sad bereavement. It teaches the sol- emn lesson that we, too, must prepare for death." Ex-Governor Chadwick, of Salem, Ore., says : "Mrs. Chadwick and I feel this blow very seriously. Poor IMattie ; a noble-hearted woman, always so kind to us, we can never forget her." 138 Di{. Owens - Adair. Hon. Wm. D. English, of California, writes : "We were all terribly shocked to hear the sad news of IMattie's death. You and your g;ood wife must feel the loss very keenly, as it came so unexpectedly that it is hard to realize that the vacant chair will ever be without its occupant. Mattie was a self-sacrificing", truly good woman, and she will surely meet her reward in the other world. All my family join in heart- felt sympathy for you and yours." Miss Jane Weeden, of The Temple, Chicag-o, writes : "Is it possible that our Mattie Palmer has gone across the river whose thick mists veil the eye from the other shore? If so, I am sure she has gone to a better world than this, but this world sadly needs her, and thousands more like her. I had a great esteem and love for Mattie. She was a thor- oughgoing, conscientious woman, and, like Julia Ames, in another department of the world's work, she gave great promise of future usefulness. It is well with her, and we must still face the battle of life." Mrs. Owens-Adair, • Astoria, Oregon. A TOUCHING LETTER.' North Yakima, Wash., Jan. 25, 1904. To the Editor : In looking over my old letters I find the following from the late H. S. Lyman, which comes like a message sent back from the heavenly half of the circle to those whom he, too, has so lately left behind. Some of the thoughts are so fine that I herewith submit a copy forwarding the original to his sisters) to your judgment as to whether it should or should not be given to the public. The Miss Palmer, of whom he speaks, was given to me when a child, by her dying mother, and she received from me the careful training and edvication of a daughter, which she returned with true filial love and faithful devotion. .She was all that Mr. Lyman says of her, and her death was, indeed, a grievous loss to me, and our home. Some of Her Lh'e Exi'Kkiences. 139 (The r.ctu-r.) Astoria, iVovcmbcr i, LS'.t:;. Col. John Adair and Dr. Owens-Adair: Dear Friends — The sadness I felt, as 1 learned the even- ing after her burial, of the death of Miss Palmer, has made me wish to say something comforting, if I could, to you. Your sense of loss — your actual loss — of her out of your home and your work, and your plans for your family and the community, you will not get over, and would not wish to. The place of an one we have really loved is never taken, and never filled. Perhaps it is a comfort that it is so. It may be that the place we have in our hearts for such is like the place s(|oken of by Jesus, — one of the places prepared, so that when things are made up again, and each returns to his own, they will find the same place in our affections and the same part in our lives. Certainly, though we part, none of us, either those that go or those that remain, are outside of God's providence. 'T know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care." So our mourning" is not without hope, and the hope is the main thing for us. As for her, — one who in this world was fitted to serve, and do good. — and who found her life in making things better and brighter, will not be left without happy ministry anywhere. God, who found her her place here, will find it for her there. It is with you. as with the rest of us. half our life on this side, and half on that. Our circle — even our family circle — not complete except as it takes in a part of heaven. — half here, and half there, out of sight, but all in God. I am wanting to see you, but accept this until I can. Very sincerely yours, H. S. Lymax. 140 Dr. Owens - Adair. CHAPTER XII. SKETCH OF SARAH DAMRON OWENS, PIONEER OF 1843. Mrs. Owens was born in Kentucky, January 8, 1818. She was the first (laughter of Moses and Jennie Damron. Her father was of pure English blood, and emigrated from England with two brothers, Lazarus and Richard, and settled on the Big Sandy River. Mr. Damron was a great Indian fighter, and was employed by the Government as a scout and spy during the war with the Shawnees and Dela- wares. He performed notable deeds of daring and brav- ery, which were recognized by the Government. Among them, and worthy of record, was that of rescuing a woman and five children. The Shawnees had scalped her husband and carried oflf herself and six children. The Indians soon tired of the babe, and tearing it from its mother's arms, beat it to death against a tree and hushed the mother's screams by rubbing her face with her husband's scalp ! Mr. Damron volunteered to go in pursuit of these In- dians, and, with eleven men, he followed thirty miles, com- ing up with them just after dark. There were twenty warriors. The leader was standing before the fire. When the men saw the twenty warriors, ten of them turned and fled. Mr. Damron, nothing daunted, instantly shot the lead- ing savage, who fell into the fire. Damron gave the war- whoop to charge, and the Indians, thinking an army was upon them, fled. Mr. Damron and his one faithful com- rade rushed in and rescued the woman and children and carried them across a mountain and returned to the trail, well knowing that the Indians would soon be on his track. He secreted himself under an old stump having an over- growth. Soon two Indian scouts came along, striking their My Only Beloved Granddaughter Vera Owens Hill Great Granddaughter of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Owens SoMK OF Her Liki-: Experiences. 141 flints and lighting their punks. They stopped close by the stump, so near that Damron might have touched them with his hand. He often said that he thought then the scouts might have heard his heart beats. They did discover the tracks of the retreating white men, and on they rushed, whistling to their comrades to follow. As soon as they passed Mr. Damron lost no time in re- turning to his charge, and, with his comrade, took the wo- man and children to a settlement in another direction. For this feat of bravery our Government presented Mr. Damron with a splendid rifle, richly mounted with silver, and valued in those days at $200. Mr. Damron also killed the noted Indian terror. Big Foot, shooting him in a pass of the Cumberland Mountains. During those dreadful times of Indian wars Mr. Damron, in 1812, married Miss Jennie Mullins. To them were born six children, — Moses, Sarah, Louisa, Elizabeth, William and Solomon. In 1826 they moved to Illinois, where they lived two years, but, not being satisfied there, Mr. Damron started to re- turn to their old home in Kentucky. They reached Posey County, Illinois, on the Ohio River, where they stopped to rest. Here Mr. and Mrs. Damron were attacked by what was then known as the "milk sickness," and within six days they were both dead and buried. During their illness the father called the eldest son and daughter, Moses and Sarah (the object of this sketch), twelve and ten years old, and told them many times, describing in the minutest detail every turn and cross-road on their long journey home. He marked out their whole route, and made them prom- ise that they would continue steadily on till they reached their relatives in Kentucky. In those days children without parents were often "bound out." To provide against this, Mr, Damron called in his Masonic brethren and exacted a pledge from them that they would see to it that his 143 De. Owens - Adair. children should not be "bound out." He then made all arrangements for their journey. After the burial of their parents these six children started on their sad journey in a light, one-horse wagon, or carriage. They reached home in one month, including all stops, never once losing their wa}- or "having to retrace their steps, so well had the wise father impressed his own accurate knowledge vipon the minds of his young son and daughter, but, sad to say, this trip was the means of rendering this twelve-year- old lad a cripple for life. While ascending steep hills he often had to put his foot under the wagon wheel to keep it from sliding and thereby bruised his foot and ankle, which brought on a disease of the joint, making him a cripple, and finall}^ causing his death. The children were overwhelmed with kindness through- out their trip. One night they stopped at the house of an old bachelor, who, upon reading their letter from the Masons, made up his mind to adopt the children. He kept them for nearly a week. He seems to have been a good, but very eccentric, person, for he had provided himself with a coffin, in which he kept his jug of whisky. The sight of the coffin thoroughly frightened them, especially Sarah, who ran, screaming, down the stairs. The old man was very kind to the children, and loaded them with good things to eat. One day he went to town^ leaving them with an old negro and his wife, telling the children he would not be gone long. As soon as he was out of sight the children hitched up their horse and slipped away, the old colored people pretending not to notice them. They traveled with all haste, for fear the old man would follow them, but they never saw him again. Sarah and Eliza had the ague, and shook every other day. After sev- eral days' traveling they came to the Widow Hopkins', a wealthy woman, who was known far and wide. She kindly took them in and cured the girl's ague. Some of Her I.ikk Experiences. 143 Widow llopkins lirid ;i Iar,i;c' plantation and a hundrt'd slaves. 1 Icr two widowed dau^lilers lived with her. The hearts of these wealthy and }^^f)od women were warmed toward these orphaned children, and they bej^j^ed them to stay with them, offcrinL;- to raise and educate them. J>ut Moses, that honest and faithful boy, said : "No, I promised father on his deathbed that I would take the children home to our people, and 1 must ol)ey." After they reached home they were divided among their relatives. Sarah went to live with her maternal grand- mother, then eighty years of age. After her grandmother's death Sarah went to live with an uncle and aunt, who were very kind to her and taught her to spin and weave and do all kinds of work. Her only sorrow was her separation from her brothers and sisters. The nearest was thirty miles away. When she would get homesick to see them her aunt would tell her to visit them. Then she would take her shoes and stock- ings and a change of clothing in a handkerchief and start early in the morning. She would walk and run thirty miles, easily, in one day, wading a creek called Shelby thirty times. I have often heard mother say that when she started on these trips she felt as if she could fly, and she did run for miles at a time. Thus passed her young life until she reached the age of sixteen, when she met and married a i\Ir. Thomas Owens, then sheriff of Pike County, Kentucky. J\lr. Owens was the son of a wealthy planter, and was a tall, handsome, ath- letic young man, and for six years had been sheriflf of his county. , He knew neither danger nor fear. They set- tled on a farm on the forks of Big Sandy, about seven miles from Piketon. Here their first child was born, who survived but a few weeks. Also their first daughter was born here. After two Aears they emigrated to Missouri. For this trip my father, Mr. Owens, built a flat-boat, in 14-i De. Owens - Adair. which he moved his family and effects down the Big Sandy to the Ohio, and up the Ohio to Cincinnati, where he sold his boat and traveled by steamer to Van Buren County, Ivlissouri, where their second daughter, Bethenia (the writ- er), was born, February 8, 1840. My father built a log cabin, and made rails and fenced in some land, and the fol- lowing spring he bought five yoke of oxen and broke twenty acres and planted it in corn. He fixed a little chair on the plow, in which the oldest child, the late Mrs. John Hobson (mother of Mrs. Ada Fulton, wife of Hon. C. W. Fulton, the present United States Senator from Oregon), would ride, while mother, with her baby (myself) in her arms, walked behind and dropped the corn, which was covered up by the next furrow. The corn was planted in every third furrow, and this planting produced a fine crop with- out any further attention. Father and mother lived here only about a year and a half and then moved to "Platte Purchase," Missouri. • This move was due to the continuous affliction with the ague. On February 22, 1842, a son was born, — the late Hon. W. F. Owens, of Douglas County, Oregon. In the spring of 1843 my parents moved to Independence, Mo., and there joined the emigration of that year for Oregon. MY mother's story. The first day everything went along finely, and for sev- eral days thereafter. Our wagons were loaded with pro- visions, and everybody was happy until we came to a creek called the "Blues." Here we camped, and about midnight a fearful wind-storm blew down our tents, and the rain fell on us in torrents. The next morning we found that about half our cornmeal was wet. Then my husband said Some of Her Life Experiences. 145 to the company : "At least half our meal is wet, and unless it is converted into bread it will be lost, and my advice is that we make fires and at once make it all into bread." This ad- vice was, unfortunately, followed only by myself and a few other women. Thousands of pounds of meal were left by the roadside. Had Mr. Owens' advice been taken anrl econ- omy practiced as it should have been no person in that emi- gration need to have suffered from lack of food. That day was principally devoted to getting dried out, ready for a new start. From here we moved on without special occurrence till we reached the Platte River, where we camped, while the men found a good ford which seemed to be about a mile across. Then the wagon-beds were raised about six or eight inches, and from forty to fifty wagons and teams were fastened together with long chains. Horses were attached to the first wagon and oxen in the rear. The men went ahead on horseback with ropes tied to the front team. Upon reaching the other shore the men would pull in the ropes, in this way keeping the front team in the right course, while each man sat in his wagon and directed his own team. In that way we all crossed in safety. Thus we jour- neyed until we came to Sweetwater, in the buffalo country, where Mr. Owens was made Captain of the hunters. I then took charge of the oxen and drove them throughout the buffalo section. While the hunters were killing game other men with pack-horses were sent out to bring in the meat. As soon as it reached us the women set to work cutting it in thin slices and stringing it on ropes, which were fastened to the bottoms of the wagon-beds. Within three days this meat would be well cured and ready to pack away in sacks. This was a jolly train. We had music, singing and dancing nearly every night. In the evening, while the men were at- tending to the cattle and horses, their wives and daughters 146 Dr. Owens - Adair. would be carrying- buffalo '"chips" in their aprons, mak- ing fires and preparing supper, which was eaten and rel- ished with appetites that only out-of-door life can give. During all this time we never saw an Indian to annoy or molest us. and not until we reached Independence Rock, where Dr. Whitman met us, and we got our first scare. Our hunters here saw a band of Indians, and notified the train. This brought the only non-social member of- our company into close relations. This Englishman, by name Eyers, was a very unsocial and disagreeable man. He usually camped a quarter of a mile away from the company, but the Indian scare brought him into line. After this guards were stationed every night. Dr. Whitman traveled with us until the Blue Moun- tains were reached, and then went ahead and blazed out our route. We proceeded on till we reached Chimney Rock (Three Rocks), where we camped and sent out the hunters. They found the buffalo very wild. There our first serious accident occurred. While the hunters were approaching the buffalo through the tall grass, a gun in the hands of one of them was discharg-ed and shot a Mr. Goodman through the hand, which crippled him for life. The hunters were successful, and coming in with their game, we proceeded on our journey. The next evening, after camping, we had quite a scare from a band of at least five hundred buffalo that were ap- parently coming down on us ; but fortunately they were swerved from their course sufficiently to pass us, while had they contin'aed straight on we would have been trampled to death. The next crossing of the Platte we found very deep and swift, detaining us three days, preparing to cross this turbu- lent stream. To do this we tacked buffalo hides on the bot- toms of several of the wagon-beds. In these novel boats SoMic (>!■ lli.K Liii': l'",xi'i-;itional conscientiousness commanded respect wherever she was Well known. She was a member of the Washingtonians, the first tem- perance society in the United States. On the 28th day of August, 1844, she was married to Will- iam L. Adams, in the log house where her parents first lived in Illinois. They were both graudates of Knox College, but Mr. Adams had taken an additional advanced course at Beth- any College, Va., under President Alexander Campbell, with marked proficiency in Greek and Latin, for which he had a special taste and gift. His wife was equally fond of liter- ature, and her reading embraced a wider scope, since he despised all fiction, thereby losing some of the finest later- ature, and best thought of the world. Both were ready writers, but she was modest, retiring, and self-distrustful, while he was the exact opposite, being bold, self-assertive, and self-confident. He wrote and published much, in a keen, witty, and forcible style, and was an excel- lent ortheopist, but it was upon his wife he depended always, when not quite sure of a word. "Frances, how do you spell ," he would ask; well knowing that she would answer promptly, and that she was infallibly correct. She also wrote well, when she could find time from the cares of a large family — for to them, also, were born eight children, three sons and five daughters. She wrote excellent logical essays for the neighborhood lyceum, and poems of 168 Dr. Owexs - Adair. real merit for the albums of her friends ; and her letters were a source of enjoyment to her relatives and friends. She read much, and rapidly, retaining and digesting all she read, and was, therefore, well, even marvelously well-informed, not only as to all current events, and concerning all the promi- nent characters of her own day, but she was an encyclopaedia of information regarding the world's history. I used, as a child, to wonder how mother could remember so much; for I noticed that no name or circumstance in history was ever mentioned in her presence that she did not know apparently all about it, and have intelligent ideas of her own on the subject. Though so extremely shrinking and dependent in action, she was, notwithstanding, a most clear and independent thinker. She was of short stature, but sturdy frame. Her hair and eyebrows were dark brown, her eyes blue-gray, and her brow high, full and broad. Too timid to lead in any import- ant undertaking, unless driven to it by conscience, — if she trusted her leader she could, and would, follow him to the death. When her first two children were two and one-half, and six months old, she, with her husband, started. May 1st, 1848, on the long, long journey across the plains to Oregon, the land of moist, mild winters, green grass, and good and abundant water. Their household goods, provisions, and babies were con- veyed in a wogan, drawn by one yoke of oxen. They had one cow, old Rose, of blessed memory. She well deserves mention here, for when one ox mired and died on the Cas- cade mountains, it was she who, beside furnishing milk for the babies all the way, bravely took her place beside the remaining ox, and brought the wagon and little ones safely into the Willamette valley. She lived ten years after that (over twenty years in all), giving us an abundant, and al- Some of liiiR Life ExpKHfKN'CF.s. 169 most constant siq^ply of milk, — the pet .ind companirm- of the chil(h"cn, wlio cHmbed all over her, and rode on her back when she was lying down, or standing and walking, unre- sented by the dear old beast, who loved us all as much as we loved her. My mother walked more than half way across the plains, to spare the tired, faithful oxen. The Indians were friendly then, and grass for the cattle better than it was later, after more emigrants had passed over the road. Once, in the Cascade mountains, we come to a long slope, so steep that the v\'agons had to be chained together to get them safely down. Mother carried her baby, now nearly a year old, down first, and setting her where she thought she would be safe from harm, she came back up the mountain for me. I was then nearly three, and can remember the scene. On her way up, she was passed by a dozen or more Indians on horseback. Alarmed for her infant, she hastened on to bring the older child as quickly as possible. To her terror, she saw that the Indians had stopped exactly where she had left the child, and were apparently trampling it. Breathless she ran, to find that they had only formed a close circle around it, to guard it till she came. With tears, she motioned her thanks, and they understood, nodded, smiled, and rode away. "Right here," Dr. Adair says, "I want to add a few words to this sketch of my dear, departed friend, whom this picture so vividly brings to my mind; for, had the precious life of baby Helen been thus nipped in the bud, what, an incalcul- able loss it would have been to humanity. Few women have done more for their country than this same saintly Helen, whose whole life has been filled with Christian deeds, and duty to her husband, family and neighbors. (In the full scripture sense of the word.)" She has given four splendid sons and two beautiful daugh- 170 Dr. Owens - Adair. ters to her state. All were welcomed by their devoted mother, who, by precept and practice, has faithfully trained and guided them into paths of usefulness and honor. Her first two sons are successful and able ministers of the Gos- pel, Herbert, the eldest, being pastor of the Warren Avenue Baptist church, Boston, Mass., and the second, Virgil (whom I call my boy), is pastor of the First Baptist church in Clare- mont. New Hampshire. The third son enlisted, at the age of sixteen, and went with his company on the first transport that left San Francisco for the Philippines. He was in the battle at the taking of Ma- nila, and remained in the islands six months. On his return, he re-entered the University of Oregon, where he is prepar- ing himself for a literary career. The fourth son is also still in the university. He is all a mother could desire, and will not be found wanting when- ever and wherever his country needs him, when his majority is attained. The two daughters are happy wives and mothers ; and, though both took the college course with their brothers, they are mistresses of the culinary art, and of housekeeping, and home-making; and are following in the footsteps of their intellectual, yet domestic mother. What prophet could have foretold the future blossoming and fruitage of the dormant seeds of posterity that lay folded away in that tiny, blue-eyed, fair-haired human bud, around whom those stalwart savages were mounting guard? What more beautiful eulogy can be bestowed upon her than that of sacred writ? "Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband, also, and he praiseth her." My parents came to a final halt in Yamhill county, Or- egon, six miles northwest of the present city of McMinnville, and spent most of the first winter (we reached Oregon Octo- ber 1st, 1848) in the hospitable home of Dr. James McBride, Some of Ukk Iavk Experiences. 171 father of Representative John R., Judge T. A., anrl Sen- ator G. W. McBride. These great-hearted ])e()j)le took in the wayfarers with kindhest good-will, though their house then consisted of hut three moderate-sized rooms, and a spacious "loft"; and they had, at the time, all at home, eleven children of their own. I never heard a quarrelsome word, or saw any hut the kind- est, jolliest l)ehavior in that house during our stay, nor in all the years in which we were constant associates, as neighhors and schoolmates. My father used their back room as a school-room that first winter, and the families of Dr. Mc- Bride, his sister, Mrs. Woods, and Mrs. McBride's sister, Mrs. Shelton — all living near each other — made a full school. Here I, early in my fourth year, received my first, and last- ing lessons in geography and United States history, from hearing the others recite. Two governors, a representative to congress, four promi- nent physicians, an eminent judge, and a United States sen- ator, came from those three families, arid all save the senator, who was born later, came from that school. They managed to fit themselves for exceptional success and usefulness in life without the aid of any "machine" whatever. In the spring of 1849, my father went to the California gold mines, and my mother taught the neighborhood school, in a little log' house, built b}^ the settlers for' that purpose, boarding at the home of Zebedee Shelton. "Aunt Vina," his good wife, was a sister of Mrs. McBride, or "Aunt Mahala," as we all affectionately called her. Never can I forget Mrs. McBride, a small, but executive woman, dark-haired, blue-eyed, with intellectual brow, and keen, commanding glance, who sat in the wide chimney- corner, almost always with a baby in her arms, ruling and directing her family with a wise, firm, but kindly hand. No dishonorable act, or even thought, dared to meet that penetrating eye ! But sorrow and need never sought succor 172 Dr. OwEiNS - Adair. in vain from that generous hand ; and her husband was her fitting mate, revered, trusted, loved by the whole country- side. They had fourteen children, all exceptionally intelli- gent, amiable, yet spirited, witty, forceful ; and all thoroughly trained, and ingrained in the cardinal principles of integ- rity, industry, and hospitality. The daughters, as well as the sons, possessed strong mentality, and self-respecting inde- pendence, and, as all Oregon knows, have been leaders, wherever they were, in all that was worthy, elevating and helpful to the community and to themselves. They were, all told, the most loyal family to their friends, and to each other, that I have ever known. My father returned from the mines within the year, with $900 in gold-dust and nuggets. With this sum he purchased a farm of 6iO acres, of a Mr. Carey. They had a black woman, a former slave, living with them — the first negro I ever saw — and I well remember how terrified I was to see her take my baby sister in her arms. To me she was like some strange, wild creature, who might devour children. I soon found, however, that she was even kinder than white people were to children, and that my fears were groundless. Here we lived five happy, busy years. My mother worked with my father laying rail fence, making garden, milking, and aiding him in any wa}^ she could, between her house- hold duties, which she never neglected. Our first bushel of seed potatoes cost $5 in gold. "Small potatoes," they cer- tainly literally were ; but they soon yielded noble returns, for that was ideal soil for them ; and in those five years we had made a pleasant and comfortable home. Also two more children, — a son, William H., and a daughter, Julia Frances, were born. My father's mother, and her two youngest daughters, and his eldest brother, O. H. Adams, and his family, had come to Oregon in 1853, and his younger brother, S. C. Adams, had arrived the year before. They all settled near us, and Uncle Some of Her Life Expekiences. 173 S. C. Adams married Dr. M'cBridc's eldest dau^diter, Martha, a noble woman, whom he worshiped to the day of her death, over thirty years later. My father's sister, Eunice, was also married to John R. McBride, the eldest son of the family, who afterward rep- resented Oregon in congress. My grandmother was a strict Presbyterian of the old school, and it distressed her to see any relaxation of the old time rigid rules, especially those of Sabbath observance. But I now thank her for many requirements that I then thought too strict. Mother had us commit to memory the Proverbs, many of the Psalms, and nearly all the Gospels, but we never thought that a hardship. She lived, and taught to us, her religion in a way that constrained us to love and absorb it into our very physical, as well as mental fiber, so that our love for her and God seemed one. My father, having a live interest in the political affairs of his adopted state, and a facile pen, had already become known for his contributions to the Oregonian, then edited by Thomas Dryer, and, in 1855, he purchased the "Spec- tator," a newspaper published in Oregon City, Oregon, and we removed to that place in the spring of that year, renting the farm. We remained in Oregon City four years, and here a second son, Gaines M., was born. Mother did not like city as well as country life, but she made the best she could of it for father's sake. We attended good schools here, and my sister Helen and I, at the ages of nine and eleven j^ears, respectively, entered the office of "The Argus" (during two years), of which our father was the editor and proprietor. The office, also, was an excellent school, especially as the foreman. D. W. Craig, was a scholarly young Kentuckian, to whom we owe much for the sterling training he gave our minds, as well as our 174 Dr. Owens - Adair. fingers. He presented us with carefully-chosen books, which, under his advice and assistance, we read, and treasured, and it is to these, and to his wise suggestions as to our future choice of reading, that whatever we possess of sound literary taste is largely due. He could not have been kinder to his own little sisters, and his unfailing interest in, and affection for us, is today, after fifty years' duration, one of our price- less possessions. Who shall dare to say that such a friend- ship, lasting for fifty years on earth unbroken, can be ended by death? In 1859 my father moved back to the farm, where he built a handsome new home, and remained two years, during which time a twin brother and sister, Arthur Craig, and Amy Cecilia, were born. In 1861 father was appointed collector of customs at the Port of Astoria, where we lived the next four years, and where our youngest sister, Claribel May, was born. My mother disliked the responsibilities of official social life, yet she recognized its just claims, and endeavored to discharge its necessary requirements to the best of her ability. Her eld- est two daughters were now of an age to assist her in this, so far as their school duties permitted. It was in this school that they first met Mrs. Owens, after- ward Dr. Owens-Adair; and, in their close association as classmates, learned to respect, appreciate, and admire her many fine qualities. I, the eldest child of our family, was married, during our residence here, to Wilbur W. Parker, of Washington, Ver- mont, July 4, 1863, and made my home there with my hus- band until his death, January 9th, 1899. Here, also, my sister Helen was married, July 3d, 1865, to Prof. W. Johnson, afterward president of the University of Oregon. And here, too, our brother Arthur, the twin, died, at the age of four years. My mother was not sorry, at the end of father's four Some of 11i:u J^ife Experiences. 175 years' term of office, to return to the farm, where slic felt happiest, and most at home. But she was not ])crniittc(l to end her days there, for eight years later — twenty-five years from the time it came into his possession — my father sold the dear old place to R. R. Thompson, of Portland, for $25,000— just $1,000, beside our living from it, for every year we had owned it. All the family, save mother and I, were glad it was sold, that they might remove to Portland, but we grieved for the old farm. Father purchased the property then on the corner of Eleventh and Harrison streets — now Thirteenth and Har- rison, in Portland. Mother was quite contented in her Portland home. Her eldest two daughters were now happily married ; her third daughter teaching the Portland public schools ; and her eld- est son was an attorney and police judge of the city. My father had taken up the study of medicine, and, after taking his degree in Philadelphia, was then practicing his profes- sion in Portland. Mother always loved gardening, and her Portland home was soon made beautiful with shrubs and flowers. She greatly enjoyed her church, the First Christian, corner Main and West Park streets, within walking distance. There were no street cars in those days, and many resi- dents of the city, not in its outskirts, either, walked regularly one and a half to two miles to church. It was a genuine Christianity that induced a regular attendance then, through winter's storms, and summer's heat; and our mother's was genuine. ' Her flesh had very greatly increased, and she was somewhat lame from an old ankle-sprain, so that a walk of ten blocks was no easy task for her, but she and her family were always in their places, at the morning services, at least. In the country, when far from any church, she always dressed us with unusual care on Sundays, and, after the din- ^y§ De. Owens - Adair. ner work was done, she would gather us about her for an hour's reading, and instruction from the Bible, All of us who \yere old enough read a verse in turn, and mother talked to and with us about its meaning. We loved that hour, for one thing because it was the one hour in the week that mother was not busy, and could give herself entirely to us. Often, in summer, we spent it under the trees, beside a lovely mountain stream which flowed near our Yamhill home — Glen Avoca, as father had named it. She never "preached" to us. She was not strict. Indeed, grandmother thought her almost dangerously lax in her religious training and family discipline, but, though we might sometimes be slow in doing her bidding, we absolutely never did anything she told us not to do ; and her teaching and example made lovers of God and righteousness of us all ; and her influence for good reached beyond us, to the hired men, and even to the wild Indians, who were then all around us. After a few years, my father purchased the place where he now lives, in Hood River, and mother spent about a year there, returning to Portland for a short time, but soon moved to Eugene, Oregon, for the educational advantages for her two younger daughters. After their graduation, two years later, they both engaged in teaching, and she was free to visit her married children. Her eldest son, William, was now married to Miss Olive Paget, of Portland; her daughter Julia to Dr. W. J. Mc- Daniel, an esteemed physician, and her son Gaines to Miss Anna Pasley, of Idaho. All her five married children were comfortably settled in life, and greatly enjoyed her visits, and urged her to prolong them. Her health had always been exceptionally good up to her sixty-fourth year, when it failed rapidly, and, while spending the last New Year of her earthly life at my home, she one day said to me : "I feel that I have done my work, and I dread becoming sick and Some of Her Life Experiences. 177 helpless, so, if it the Lord's will, I would like to go soon. My children do not need me now, and I am ready to go." "Oh, mother," I said, "we do need you. All your sons- in-law love and respect you, and are as glad to have you in their homes as we are. You can enjoy your hfe, now, with no more anxiety or hard work." "Yes," she said, "you are all good to me, and I know I am welcome, but I shall never be well again, and I am pray- ing to God to take me soon, without my knowing it. I do not dread the change, — only the physical pangs of death, which I would like to be spared, if it is right." Dear mother's prayer was granted, and, the following summer, after a terribly hot day, she was suddenly stricken with apoplexy, and, after lingering unconscious but twenty- six hours, she entered into her rest June 23d, 1886, at the home of her youngest son, Gaines, at Cedar Mill nine miles w'cst of Portland, Oregon, aged sixty-five years and eight months. "Still let her mild rebuking stand Between us and the wrong; And her dear memory serve to make Our faiths in goodness strong. "And grant that she, who, trembling, here Distrusted all her powers, May welcome to her holier home The well-beloved of ours," 178 Dr. Owens - Adair. CHAPTER XIV. NANCY IRWIN MORRISON. A part of this sketch of that remarkable woman, Mrs. Nancy Irwin Morrison, was furnished me by her second daughter, Mrs. Mary Ellen Carnahan. The remainder is from the pen of Hon. John Minto, husband of Mrs. Mor- rison's eldest daughter, Mrs. Martha Ann Minto. Mrs. Car- nahan says : "My mother was born April 27th, 1809, in Anderson county, Missouri. She was the mother of nine children, thirty-one grandchildren, and eleven great-grandchildren. We crossed the Missuori river en route to Oregon, May 2d, 1844, and reached Astoria, January 19th, 1845, after a nine day's trip down the Columbia, in an open canoe. The rain continued during the entire trip down the river. The family never slept in a house from the time we started for Oregon, until we reached Astoria, nine months later; and I have often heard mother say that when she took the beds up from the floor the first morning in Astoria, the floor was wet where they had lain, so saturated was everything, from the continuous rain. Prior to coming to Astoria we camped at Linnton, opposite Oregon City, until father came down to Clatsop to see the place, and get a canoe to move us. He rented a part of the late Solomon Smith's place and a part of their log cabin. We landed at Skipanon, January 20, 1845, and camped in a hole, dug for a cellar, where Mr. Wirt now lives. To reach the Smith place we had to cross a swamp, through a perfect thicket of brush and crab-apple trees. This swamp was between two and three hundred yards Mrs. Nancy (Irwin) :\roRRisoN and Grandson Some ok IIi:k I.iiI': Ivximckiknces. 179 across, and only a trail had hccn cut tlirouf^di, and there were no bridt^es. In some places the water and mud was from two to three feet deep in the winter, and as it had been raining steadily for nearly two weeks the swamp was flooded. So there was no other alternative but to wade and carry all our effects over. Mr. Eldredge Trask met us at the swamp, and, taking my youngest sister and a brother, one under each arm, he went ahead. Father followed with my young- est brother, and mother with the rest of the children brought up the rear. I think I can see my mother's face now, with such a discouraged expression on it. She said then that she would have "sold out for a picayune" (6^ cents). Mother brought a little flax wheel, a bunch of flax and a sack of wool, but no cards. We children picked the wool, from which she spun yarn, and we knit stockings. From the flax she spun sewing thread. When father went to the Cayuse Indian war, and was gone from December till May, mother managed everything, put- ting in crops, making butter, and doing everything there was to be done. And, in addition, she did anything she could get to do for the support of the famiI3^ I remember that she worked for many days, with the help of two of the children, untieing a net that had been too coarsel}^ woven, for which she charged only twenty-five cents a day. I also remember that she paid the taxes for one year by knitting socks. At the eighteenth reunion of the Oregon Pioneer Asso- ciation Mr. Minto read the following interesting sketch of Mrs. Morrison : "It is a labor of love on the part of the writer to attempt thus to convey to others the character of this estimable woman, as seen in the toilsome action and the trying inac- tion, the sleepless vigilance and constant readiness to meet and overcome or endure the trials in which her duties as 180 Di{. Owens - Adair. a wife and mother placed her, as an emigrant to Oregon, and as a settler in that new country, upon her arrival. '"Sly point of observation was as a member of the fam- ily, at first by temporary adoption as an assistant during the journey to Oregon, and subsequently by marriage to her eldest daughter three years after arrival. "I state this to show the reader that I had excellent oppor- tunities to know what manner of woman this was who crossed the plains and mountains with ox-teams, when the entire distance, from the Missouri to the Willamette rivers, was in possession of the Indian race, to become, with her husband, a home-builder in Oregon. "My task is grateful to me because Mrs. Morrison was, I think, an excellent representative of her class ; there were many her peers, and some more than her peers, in artificial acquirements, while some might fall below her, so that I think, all things considered, she was a good representative. The same was true of her husband. They were both de- scendants of pioneer settlers of Kentucky, where they were born, in the early part of this century, grew up, married, and moved west to Missouri with the frontier settlement. "Here I wish to speak of the acquirements of this worthy pair of representative Americans, of a class whose work is done on this continent. Neither of them were much indebted to the school teacher. He could read, which he did, on the subject of political economy, studiously, at every opportunity. He could write, also, but with such dif- ficulty that it was never a congenial employment. She could read with difficulty, but rarely attempted it in the prime of her life, when her children claimed her attention. Later in life it was a source of great comfort to her, the New Testament being her favorite book. "Of course she was versed and very expert in the domes- tic labors, which in her early life involved cooking, dairy management, spinning, weaving, and soap boiling, as well SoMK oi- IIi;k Lii'ic Exi'KKrKNCES. 181 as the rougher i)rei);Lrati()n oi llax and hemp for the spinning process. She brought with her across the plains a flax wheel, llax seed, bobbins, weaving sleighs, etc., necessary for the manufacture of clothing. She had another acquire- ment not usual to womanhood. She could use a rifle with effect. As a frontiersman's daughter, left in early girlhood her father's housekeeper by the .death of her mother, she had been taught the use of the rifle, but she never affected it in mannish ways. I have heard her tell of killing a hawk, in defense of her poultry, but never saw her handle the rifle we called her gun, although I did overhear her asking where it and its accompaniments were, one night when the camp was in alarm, expecting a night attack from the Indians. "At the time I first saw Mrs. Morrison, in her Missouri home, I made up my mind it would be very stormy near her when domestic matters went wrong, supposing I saw signs of a very high temper. I believe yet the temper was there, but it has never been my lot to know any one who had more self-control, or who laughed so often when some one would rail and scold. I will give an incident which occured within the first hour of my becoming a member of her household. "It was yet early in the morning when Wm. H. Rees, subsequently a representative man in early Oregon, and I reached Mr. Morrison's farm, having left the camp of intending emigrants upon information that he (Morrison) wanted two assistants for the journey. We found him just leaving the house, after an early breakfast, as he was much pressed for time for his preparations. In less time than I can write it we had agreed to serve him in any w'ay we could to get him and his family and effects to Oregon. He was to board us, do our washing and mending, and haul our trunks of clothing, etc., for such service. Learn- ing we had not breakfasted he took us into the cabin, 182 Dk. Owens - Adair. introduced us and our need of breakfast, and went himself and saddled a horse, and, as we arose from the table, put money (gold coin, a rare money at that time) into Mr. Rees' hand and told him to ride to St. Joseph, nine miles away, and buy nine barrels of flour, and so much cornmeal, for the journey. Mr. Morrison took me with him to bring a tongue, or pole. Mrs. .Morrison came to the door and said : 'Wilson, you'd feel queer if that man should serve you a Yankee trick, and go off with your horse and money.' It was evident to me that such a thing had not occurred to Mr. Morrison. He was speechless for some seconds, and then quietly remarked : 'Well, all I can say is, if he does he had better not let me catch him.' The lady laughed and returned to her household affairs ; and these, from the time I became a member of her household, were cer- tainly very laborious. "Here I wish to note a fact which I presume was true of a large majority of the wives and mothers who crossed the plains as pioneers. The movement was against the judgment and feelings of Mrs. Morrison. She told me so, in so many words, but never alluded to the subject again until she had been several years in Oregon, and then she told me she was satisfied with the change, on her husband's account ; but she believed that he, himself, was not. "No person seeing Mrs. Morrison in her daily routine of duties would have supposed she was engaged in an en- terprise her judgment did not endorse. She was no com- plainer. Wliile sociable, she was not an excessive talker. She was at this time in the prime of life, and, thinking for words to characterize her in her relations to her family and others, those of Proverbs xxi :25, come to mind : " 'Strength and honor are her clothing.' "Her neighbors and friends must have been very numer- ous, for during the last two weeks of her residence in Mis- souri there was an almost incessant stream of visitors, Two OF My Babies Grandchildren of Mr. and Mks. Elijah Jeffers Great Grandchildren of Mrs. Sar.a.h Hurfurd Jeffers SoMK OK TTl'-.K T.IKI': EXCKKII'-.NCES. 183 many of whom came from a distance, and all the shifts of frontier life were hronj^hl into play to j)rovide bcfls for all. " 'The reason firm, the temperate will, Endurance, foresiij^ht, strength and skill; A perfect woman, nobly planned To warm, to comfort, and command ; And yet a spirit still and brig-ht. With something of an angel light.' " SAKAIl JIURFOKI) JEFFERS. Sara Hurford Jefifers, widow of the late Joseph Jefifers, was born September 21, 1808, near Worcester, Ohio. The following incidents of her life were given to the writer by this wonderfully active and worthy lady, in April last, while visiting at the home of her son, E. C. Jefifers, whose beau- tiful home is very appropriately named "Grand View." She said: "We were married in Wheeling, West Virginia, Novem- ber 29, 1829. My parents were both natives of old Vir- ginia, my father d}-ing when I was quite young. Aly hus- band's parents were also born in Virginia, and his grand- father was a soldier of the Revolution, and the war of 1813. "In 1837 we moved to Burlington, Iowa, then a little town with many stumps and much ague, but there we made our home for ten years. In 1847 we started on our long journey to Oregon, with our three children, John H., Elijah C, and Cara L. We had already lost five children, and my husband's health had not been good in Iowa, the cold weather not agreeing with him. To obtain a home in a healthy country was the chief cause of our coming to Oregon. After arriving here my husband looked around for the healthiest part of Oregon, leaving me and our children in Oregon City. He finally located here in this place, in Clatsop county, where we have, indeed, had ex- 184 Dr. Owens - ^-Vdair. cellent health. Here my husband died on January 2, 1867, since which time this has been the home of my son EHjah and his family. I think my husband's life was prolonged considerably In- coming here. "At this date (April 11, 1897) we have two living chil- dren of all the eleven born to us. The survivors are my son Elijah, and daughter, Mrs. Cara Hibbard, of Portland, Oregon. I still enjoy, thanks to Almighty God, excellent health, and feel that I have had many blessings through- out my long life. I have endeavored to lead a Christian life, having united with the Methodist Church when a girl, in Wheeling, West Virginia. "I attended the Methodist Church in Oregon City the first Sabbath after our arrival, and heard the Rev. Mr. Roberts preach from the text, 'As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.' " Mrs. Teffers is spending the evening of her life with her son Elijah, on the place selected by her husband, half a century ago. Here this good lady is surrounded by her grand-children and great-grand-children, and, at nearly ninety years of age, she still reads for several hours a day, and occasionally writes, with extraordinary ease for one so old. Her mjnd and memory are bright and reliable. She is a great blessing to the household and bids fair to live to be a hundred. I might cover many pages in writing of this worthy Clatsop county pioneer, but she has already a prominent place in "The History of the Pacific Northwest," Vol. 2, page 389. While time lasts and memory exists Grandma Jeffers will live in the hearts of many people as an illustrious ex- ample of the pioneer mother, grand-, and great-grand- mother, who followed the golden rule, "Do as you would be done by," throughout her long and eventful life. "Servant of God, well done." Some oi-- Her Lii-e Exi'ekiences. 185 ' The parents of these bcauitful cliildrcn, Irving Jefifers and wife, their grandparents, Ehjah jeffers and wife, and their great-grandparents, Joseph Jeffers and wife, pioneers of Clatsop county, Oregon, were all particular friends of Dr. Adair, who officiated at the birth of both children. Their great-grandmother, Mrs. Jefifers, was a woman of rare nobility of character. Dr. Adair attended the party given by her son Elijah to celebrate his mother's 00th birth- day. All the invited guests were pioneers — friends of her first years in Oregon, and tried friends of succeeding years. Mother Jeffers sat at the head of the table and said a feeling and appropriate grace. She was bright and ani- mated, and enjoyed the social communion with her old friends greatly, declaring that evening that it was the hap- piest day of her life. Before they all parted she requested the privilege of praying with them, so all knelt together and listened to the most beautiful and touching prayers from her lips that they had ever heard. The scene made an impression on the minds of those present never to be effaced. At the age of 93 she attended the pioneer reunion in Port- land, Oregon, and Dr. Adair, seated near the speakers of the day, saw her sitting in the front of the audience. The Doctor stepped down, and, taking her by the hand, led her to the platform and seated her well forward, where she could hear and see everything, thus adding much to the dear old lady's enjoyment, besides giving her a de- served place of prominence, for she was truly one of the grandest of pioneer women, a noble and devoted Christian heroine, a queen uncrowned. She kept up her correspondence with her old friends and was constantly bus}', mending, knitting, reading much in her Bible, and assisting in the care of her grandchildren. She retained her faculties to the very last, calmly, nay. joyfully awaiting her summons, and passing peacefuly and 186 Dr. Owens - Adair. painlessly away at the ripe age of 94, universally honored and beloved. "Oh, sweet, calm face, that seemed to wear The look of sins forgiven ! Oh, voice of prayer that seemed to bear Our own needs up to heaven. "How reverent in our midst she stood, Or knelt in grateful praise ! What grace of Christian womanhood Was in her household ways !" MRS. AIARY AUGUSTA GRAY. Very little more than a century has elapsed since our beau- tiful Columbia river was seen by other eyes than those of savages. Just three hundred years from the eventful 1492, when Columbus demonstrated to the unbelieving world the ex- istence of another continent toward the setting sun, beyond the ocean that had hitherto bounded their lives, in 1792, on the 11th day of May, a ship from Boston, commanded by Captain Robert Gray, discovered and entered the mouth of this, the third great river on the American, continent, giv- ing it the name of his ship, the Columbia. From this time attention was directed to the Northwest coast, and vessels frequented the river until March, 1811, the present site of the town of Astoria was selected and occupied by the Pacific Fur Company. This was the be- ginning of the settlement of Oregon, but it spread no far- ther for about twenty-five years. In response to the touch- ing appeal of the four Indians who came from their home beyond the Rocky mountains to St. Louis in 1834, asking for the "White man's Book," telling about the "white man's God," and a teacher to explain it to them, the hearts of Christians were aroused, and two of the missionary societies So.Mic oi- lli:k r.iri-. I^.\['i-,iui^^ tedious months of journeying, they finally arrived at Oregon City, Oregon, in Oetober, 1844, and in the spring of 184out trying to save the flour, which was at the time worth $12 a barrel. The weather was unsettled, and they could work but a short time during the last part of the ebb tide, as the water was breaking over her most of the time. On the second day they had only suc- ceeded partially in cutting away the hatch, when driven away by a strong wind and incoming tide. They found it impossible to make a landing on the beach and were forced to take refuge in Tansy creek. Mr. Kindred and his two sons were of the party, and were congratulating themselves on having secured seven sacks of flour, and were contented to wait till the turn of the tide and wind late in the evening. Mrs. Kindred, becoming worried about the nonarrival of ■ her husband and boys, went down to the beach to look for the boats. Meantime the flood tide had completed the work begun by tlie men and had broken up the deck and floated out the entire cargo of flour. When Mrs. Kindred reached the beach there was not a boat in sight, but she saw what she said looked like a large flock of white birds. The tide was bringing the Woodpecker's cargo ashore. Airs. Kin- dred understood the situation at a glance, and did not hesi- tate one moment, but removing all unnecessary clothing, she waded in up to her armpits, meeting the incoming flour, and 216 Dr. Owens - Adair. bringing it to shore, and then carrying it, sack by sack, to a place of safety, beyond reach of high tide. Hour after hour passed; still she worked, not realizing fatigue, so stimulated was she by her success. Late in the evening Mr. Kindred and the boys landed with their valuable cargo of seven sacks of flour, to find 360 sacks landed and stacked on the beach by Mrs. Kindred, who was still watch- ing for any stray sacks that might come within her reach. Mrs. Kindred is a pure blonde, below medium height, with small hands and feet, and when young was quite slen- der. She is a woman of strong principles, upright and just. She has, all her life, strictly attended to her own business, and now, at the age of 76, her mind is clear and active. Both her and Mr. Kindred's memory of early events is good. Six years ago Mrs. Kindred sold her half of their dona- tion land claim — 320 acres — to a syndicate for $25,000. It was platted and named "New Astoria." Two years ago Mr. Kindred bonded his half (after reserving two blocks upon which their home stands) for $35,000. Mrs. Kindred is the mother of twelve children, thirty- eight grand-children and twelve great-grand-children, all of whom are residents of Clatsop county excepting two. MRS. HANNAH PEGG PEASE. Mrs. Pease says : "I was born in Staffordshire, England, September 16th, 1825, and came to America with my parents when I was four years old. We were eleven weeks crossing the At- lantic Ocean. On reaching New York, my parents settled in New Jersey, where we lived eight years. Then we moved to Illinois and settled in Jerry county, where I met and mar- ried David E. Pease, March 16th, 1845. Owing to ill- health, we decided to move to Oregon, and therefore we joined the immigration of 1849, and started on the first day of M'arch. We had a good trip, and no difficulty with the Some of Hek Life Experiences. 217 Indians, due to the fact that they had heard that there was a company of soldiers just behind us on their way to Orej^on, "We arrived at Mr. Foster's, at the foot of the Cascade Mountains, on the Gth of September, 1849. Mr. Foster took a crowd of us out to his corn and potato field, and we all helped gather corn and potatoes. Then we went back to our camp and cooked them, and we thought we had never tasted such good corn and potatoes before. "After reaching Oregon City we embarked in an Indian canoe for Astoria, with Mr. and Mrs. John Minto, Mr. Judson and a young man named Legrand Hill. On the way down I became so frightened that we got on board a vessel at Oak Point and came on it down to Astoria. From there we went up the Lewis and Clarke river to Hunt's mill, that was being built by Hunt and Judson. Here Mr. Pease was employed by Mr. Judson, as were also Mr. Legrand Hill and Mr. Isaac, who crossed the plains with us and contin- ued with us through the winter. Mr. Pease received $75 per month. In the spring of 1850 we moved to Lexington, near Skipanon, and rented a log house — 24x18 — with an upstairs, where we kept boarders. This house was built by a Red river Indian, on the bank of the Skipanon river, near the landing, which was then used by all the Clatsop people, and within fifty feet of where the schooner Pioneer was built the year before by Owens, Tibbetts, Perry and Trask, and commanded by Capt. Robert McEwan, who now lives on Clatsop. "The Pioneer was loaded principally by the Clatsop farm- ers, and taken to San Francisco in 1849. The vessel and cargo was sold at a great profit to all concerned. This brought a great deal of money into Clatsop, and people were going and coming to and from the mines, which made money plentiful, and everything brought high prices. So we opened our hotel at this thoroughfare. Butter cost $1.50 per pound, $6 per bushel for potatoes, and 50 cents a pound 218 Dr. Owens - Adair. for sugar of the poorest quality that would not be used at all nowadays, and 25 cents a pound for meat. We received $1 a meal and $16 per week for board. "Later, we bought the block on which we lived — one acre —from Mr. Wirt, for which we paid him $1200. In 1853 we took up a donation land claim, on which a part of Warren- ton now stands. We lived in a little log cabiri near where Mr. D. K. Warren's handsome residence now stands, five years, then moved back to Skipanon and bought Jerry Tul- len's donation land claim, and built the house in which O. B. Wirt now lives, and kept a livery stable for twenty-two years, running teams to and from Seaside with freight and passengers. "My husband was the first postmaster at that place. He received his appointment while from home. He was in Oregon City, disposing of his teams, and was present at the hanging of the murderers of the Whitman massacre. He held the office of postmaster about fifteen years, and at his recommendation the office was called Skipanon, and as time went on the little town dropped its old name of Lexington and adopted that of the postoffice. In June, 1850, the first general election was held at our hotel, and Mr. Pease was elected sheriff. Also the first court, as far as I know, was held in September, 1851, by Judge Strong, in our house. We sold our old home and part of our buildings to C. A. McGuire in 1879, and built us a comfortable little home, where I now live with my adopted daughter and grand- daughter. Here Mr. Pease and I celebrated our golden wedding anniversary in 1895. My husband died in June, 1896, and was laid to rest in the old Pioneer cemetery, near the first Presbyterian church of Oregon." MRS. JERUSHA BRENNAN WIRT. Mrs. Jerusha Brennan Wirt was born in Indiana in 1823, and was married to Mr. A. C. Wirt in 1840. Mr. Wirt was born in Lancaster county. Pa., in 1814. Some oi' Her Liee Experiences. 219 Mr. and Mrs. Wirt liA-ed in Illinois until 1843. Their first child, Andrew, was born in October, 1842. In the spring of 1843 they started for Oregon. They traveled as far as Missouri, and there they wintered. In March their daughter, Annie, was born. A month later they joined the emigration of 1844, under Capt. Gilliam, at Independence. The company was a large one, and after a few days a section of twenty-five wagons moved on ahead, Mr. Wirt and family among them. They elected a Mr. Bun- ton captain. No deaths or serious accidents occurred. On the Sweetwater between two and three hundred In- dians surrounded them, with drawn bows and arrows, but the courageous pioneers were ready for them. They had already secured their so.st, wife and two chil(h-cn ; A. F. Waller, wife and two children ; L. A. Jud- son, wife and three children; Hamilton Campbell, wife and two children; Olcy and wife; Henry H. Brewer and wife; W. W. Raymond and wife; Abernathy and wife and two children; Jason Lee aind wife, Miss Phillips, Miss Phelps, Miss Clark, Miss Ware. Miss Langton. — (Dr. Owens Adair.) MARGARET CRAVEN GEARHART. Mrs. Margaret C. Gearhart, widow of the late Philip Gearhart, was born in Pennsylvania in 1812. Her parents moved to Ohio in 1S14, and in 1835 Margaret C. Logan married Philip Gearhart in Decatur, Indiana. Immediately after her marriage, they moved to Iowa and made their home in Henry county until 1843, when they moved to Jefferson. Here their eldest two children, the late John W. Gearhart and Mrs. Annie E. Stout, were born. Mrs. Sarah L. Byrd and Hayden Gearhart were born in Jefferson county, Iowa. They farmed in both of their Iowa homes. In 1848, after a persistent effort to continue their home in a fever and ague country, Mr. Gearhart determined to try the far-oft* Oregon country, which then began to be known as a wonderfully healthy region. With a young fam- ily of four children, the youngest five and a half months and the eldest a girl only seven and one-half years old, Mr. and Mrs. Gearhart left Iowa April 10th, 1848, for Oregon. They joined a train in Iowa of thirty-three wagons, known that year as "the Star-Belknap Company," and with it crossed the plains. They celebrated the Fourth of July at Independence Rock. The prime cause of the Gearhart's start for Oregon was to find a healthy country, he and his family having so griev- ously suffered with chills and fever in Iowa that Mrs. Stout remembers having ridden a horse to plow corn when she 232 Dk. Owens - Adair. was only five years old, the plow being held by her brother John, then only eight, the rest of the family being down with the ague. The Gearharts had the usual trials of pioneers crossing the plains. At North Platte Mr. Gearhart fell back one day, joining a party of nine wagons, and with them reached Oregon City September 28th, 1848. Here Mr. Gearhart found the late Joseph Jeffers, who had reached Oregon in 1847, settling in Clatsop county. Mr. Gearhart's first ques- tion on meeting A-Ir. JefTers was : "Where is the healthiest part of this country?" Mr. Jeffers replied : "If health is what you are after, go down to Clatsop." And down to Clatsop the Gearhart family came. Mr. Gearhart bought the donation land claim, as filed upon by Mrs. Marion Thompson and husband, paying there- for $1000. On this place Margaret Gearhart assisted her husband in making one of the most comfortable homes in Oregon. A portion of this Gearhart farm has been im- proved, and is now favorably known as "Gearhart Park." Within six weeks after reaching Oregon Mr* Gearhart succeeded in locating his family and his effects in his Clat- sop home. He. had four cows, two calves and two fine American mares, as well as a lot of twenty-one cows, ob- tained in exchange for His plains team of oxen and wagons. Mrs. Gearhart at once began the dairy business, with a good supply of milk, but no pans or buckets. Mr. Gearhart, however, soon made spruce "keelers," or small tubs, that were very good for holding milk, but which required close attention and much washing and scalding. On this Clatsop farm Mrs. Gearhart became the mother of two more chil- dren, Maggie, now Mrs. Charles Butterfield, and Pierce Gearhart, of Idaho. Mrs. Gearhart has five children and twenty-two grand-children and great-grand-children now living. SOMK OK IIkR LiI-K Exi'KRirCNCKS, 233 Among many incidents of pioneer life this, as related by Mrs. Byrd (Sarah L. Gearhart), oiij^dit to be remembered. She says : "I remember, in 1849, an Indian, by name 'Whatcom,' came to my father's house on Clatsop Plains and stole a jjair of new wool socks. Mother had carded the wool, spun the yarn on a little wheel she brought across the plains, and knit the socks. Father sent word by Mr. Robinson, an old pioneer living near us, for the Indian to bring back the socks. The Indian came, but not to bring the socks, and not alone. He had only thirteen more Indians with him. They came as far as our barn and sent my older brother, who was there thrashing out wheat with the cows, to tell my father to come down to them ; they were going to kill him. My father loaded two mtizzle-loading rifles, which meant just two shots, put some balls, caps and powder in his pockets, took up a large walking stafif, said good-bye to mother and the children, and walked out in view of those fourteen Indians. To win or die was the question. I can remember so well just how it all looked to me. When the Indians saw my father coming toward them their leader utter just one word 'Clatawa' (run), and they did run, for over two miles, to a neighbor, Mr. Thomas Owens. After- ward Mr. Owens told my father that 'the Indians said Gear- hart was after them and was going to kill them all, and asked me to save them, somehow.' Mr. Owens was at this time sherilT of Clatsop county, and while the Indians had a proper respect for him as an officer, they also had con- fidence in his ability to protect them when necessary, and afterward appealed to him for protection when they had trouble with the settlers." Mrs. Byrd further relates that in crossing the Deschutes river some Indians rode up to them, threw rawhide ropes over the heads of the oxen, and, after helping them across, asked pay for their services, and her mother paid them in biscuits. 234 Dr. Owens - Adair. sketch of mrs. \v. t. perry and mrs. eldridge trask (sisters). Mrs. Ann Perry, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. William Abell, was born December 18th, 1818, in Tippecanoe county, Indiana, in sight of General Harrison's home. She mar- ried William T. Perry July, 1839. They left Indiana April 1st, 1842, and crossed the plains that year. With them came a sister of Mrs. Perry, a young widow, having a baby girl, Rosalthie. They journeyed as far as Green River in wagons. There they left their wagons and completed their long trip on horseback. On Platte river they met a Mr. Eldredge Trask, a young trapper, and he traveled on with them to Oregon City. He soon fell in love with the young widow, and upon reaching Oregon City they were mar- ried. This little company while on the plains fell in with Fitz- patrick, an old trapper, who rendered them invaluable ser- vice, he being familiar with the Indian character and lan- guage, thereby preventing serious trouble while passing through the Sioux country. The Perrys and Trasks spent their first winter in Oregon City and, as far as I can find, lived in the first frame build- ing in Oregon, built by Mr. Perry, who was a millwright. Early in the spring of '43 Messrs. Perry and Trask moved their families down to Clatsop Plains and took up for them- selves farms about the middle of that then beautiful flower ' garden. They built themselves a home on the Perry farm, which both families occupied. On October 15th, 1843, a daughter was born to Mr. and Mrs. Perry. This little girl was named Mary, and she has the honor of being the first white child born in Clatsop county. She is now the wife of Mr. Fred Shrowder, a wealthy farmer and dairyman of Coos county, living on the banks of the beautiful Coquille river. Mr. and Mrs. Perry lived and prospered in Clatsop county, but he was of a migratory nature, and not contented Some of Her Life Experiences. 235 to stay lonp;' in one place. In IH~)1 he movcfl, with his family, to Dout^las county, locatinjj^ in Rosehnrj^^ and buy- ing a large tract of land on Deer creek. Roseburg now stands on j^art of this land. In 1852 Perry built at Rose- burg the first grist mill of Douglas county. In 1859 he again moved, this time to Coos county, and settled on the Coquille river, about two miles below Myrtle Point, where Mrs. Perry assisted her husband to build their third and last home in Oregon. At this home Mrs. Perry died in June, 1872, at the age of 54 years and 6 months, surrounded by her husband and children. Mrs. Perry was a true pioneer, and never objected to giv- ing up a comfortable home, which had taken years to ac- quire, and going uncomplainingly with her husband to be- gin again in a new and unbroken region the toil and strug- gle of building another home. She was a good neighbor, a true and faithful wife and helpmate, always carrying her full share of the burdens of life. There were five children born to Mr. and Mrs. Perry — Vale, Mary, Emily, Dora and Vela. All are married and have families, and are now re- spected residents of Coos county. In December. 1843, a pair of twin girls were born to Mr. and Mrs. Trask on Clatsop Plains — Harriet and Mar- tha. After these, in due time, came Bertha, Jane, George, William, Charley and Ada. Mr. and Mrs. Trask remained in Clatsop county until 1852, when they removed to Tilla- mook, settling on a river since known as Trask river. They were among the first settlers of Tillamook county, and did their share in opening up that part of our state. Mrs. Trask lived, as did other pioneer women, devoting her time to her husband, her children and her home. She was especially noted for her happy and good-natured dis- position, as well as for her benevolence and whole-heart- edness. She lived to a good old age, seeing her children 236 Dr. Owens - Adair. grown and settled in life. She was respected and appre- ciated by all who knew her. In gathering pioneer data I find that Air. Eldredge Trask did more to assist the early settlers to reach Clatsop than any other one person. He was a large, strong man, with a big heart and good, gener- ons nature. For several years he assisted every family, meeting them either at Tansy Point (now Flavel) or Skip- anon, and taking them to his own home, or whatever place had been provided for them. Later on, in Tillamook, during the Indian war of 1855-6, Trask built a fort, in which all the neighboring settlers were protected for five or six months, known as Fort Trask. He thoroughly understood the Indian character, and was a tower of strength in any time of trouble with them. PHII.rPINA VEITH BOELLING. Philipina Veith, daughter of Christian and Frederica Veith, was born in Rheinpfalz, Bavaria, and came to Amer- ica in 1831, with her parents, when 13 years of age. She married Mr. Conrad Boelling in Cincinnati, Ohio, and soon after went to Peoria, Illinois, to live, but, owing to the ma- larial climate, concluded to come to Oregon in search of health. They arrived in Astoria in 18-19, and have made their home there ever since that time. Her mother, Mrs, Frederica Veith, now a widow, came Avith her, and made her home with her until her death, which occurred in 1878. Mr. BoeJling died in Astoria February 1st, 1885. Mrs. Boelling is the mother of eleven children, only five of whom are now living, eleven grand-children, eight of whom are living, and fourteen great-grand-children, nine of whom are living at the present time. She lives in her own home, well cared for by her children, two sons and two daughters being yet at home. She has seen Astoria grow from a few houses at the edge Some r)i- Hkr T.ii'-i': T^x iM'.kiences. 2'M of llic water, with a tKnsc forest behind tliem, to a busy little city, with all the modern conveniences and comforts, and from travelinj^' in Indian canoes, as the only means of travel, to seeing- lar<;e ships from all ports lying in the har- bor, and having;- fine steamers and later, hearing the whistle of the locomotive in town ; from having the mail brought around the Horn in a sailing vessel and getting it once a year, to having it left at the door by a mail carrier several times a day. (The above sketch was furnished me by members of the Boelling famil\, with the request that it remain without any changes. — Dr. Owens-Adair.) Mrs. Holbrook was a personal friend of Dr. Adair and she takes pleasure in giving the following interesting article by her a place in this volume. THE JOURNEY TO PORTLAND^ VIA PANAMA, FORTY-SEVEN YEARS AGO. That ]\Irs. Amory Holbrook was an easy and pleasant writer is well known among all her friends. Whatever came from her pen was stamped with that bright and sym- pathetic humor that was so marked a characteristic of her speech and manner. In the present year of 1899 a little booklet came into print for private circulation, giving an interesting account of the exodus of the Couch and Holbrook pilgrims from Boston to Portland, Oregon in 1852. This makes charming reading, even to the uncaring stranger who feels no special interest in the pioneer experiences of the early Oregonians. The little company, eleven in all, who made the journey by way of Panama, consisted of Amory Holbrook, United States attorney for Oregon Territory (which then comprised the three states of Oregon, Washington and Idaho, with a part of Montana) , his wife and two children and nurse ; Airs. Caroline Couch and her three daughters, and Airs. 238 De. Owens - Adair. Eliza Ainsworth, of Cincinnati. B. F. Goodwin, of Marble- head, was also a member of the company. As an illustra- tion of Mrs. Holbrook's sparkling sense of humor, the fol- lowing incident that occurred while the boat was delayed at Havana may be quoted from her booklet : "The staterooms opened out upon a passage-way leading to the guards, the doors facing each other. Those in the rooms across from ours were Mr. and Mrs. Grimes. Mr. Grimes was a wealthy Honolulu merchant, whose wife was in the very last stages of consumption. She was very sea- sick, as were also Mrs. Ainsworth, Mrs. Couch and I and many others. During the night she was very ill and her moans were most distressing. Miss Carrie went in and en- deavored to relieve her sufferings, soothing her in every possible way. When we learned in the morning that poor Mrs. Grimes had paid the penalty of her own folly in eat- ing immoderately of cucumbers, etc., in that tropical cli- mate, by her death, in the early morning, we were not sur- prised. "A peculiar feature of Mr. Grimes' sorrow at the loss of his wife was his going to the staterooms of the ladies with whom he had become acquainted, telling them of his loss, and concluding with a kiss, saying : T know you sympathize with me.' The husbands of these ladies were differently affected by this. Some laughed, as though it was the fun- niest thing they ever heard. Others were of the same mind as Mr. Holbrook, who, when he came into the stateroom, asked me if I had heard the sad tidings. When he heard of the singular manner in which Mr. Grimes claimed my sym- pathy he was too indignant to be silent and he exclaimed : " 'And you let him !' " 'Why, yes,' I replied, 'the poor man was so full of sor- row.' "The journey across the isthmus was made on mules, and Some of lliiu J^inc I'^xphkikncrs. 239 occupied nearly three days. They traveled by nij:(ht in order to avoid the heat, stopping at ranches by day to rest." "One incident," she wrote, "greatly amused us, and when- ever it came into our minds, made great laughter and fun. At intervals along the road were large tents spread for the refreshment of travelers — restaurants. "To our great astonishment, the mule carrying one of our elderly ladies, the dearest and sweetest of the whole com- pany, and the most demure, suddenly started up a hill to the right, making straight for a saloon, at which he had evi- dently been accustomed to call, and not content with stop- ping at the door, rode right in, coming out at the other end. The dear little lady, somewhat chagrined at having been compelled to make such a call, turned her head back as she came out, to join in the laugh of her companions, when the pole supporting the end of tent caught her bonnet, and the mule galloped off by himself, leaving her seated on the ground, quite unhurt, but a little startled. The gentlemen rushed to her rescue and she was soon reseated upon her . subdued steed." After arriving at Panama Mr. Holbrook decided to re- main at the isthmus ten days, the time being spent on a pleasant little island in the bay, where the mountain breezes strengthened them for their voyage on the Pacific. Shortly after arriving at San Francisco they embarked for Oregon on the steamer Columbia. "We arrived off Astoria Friday morning, and just above, a few miles, we met the steamboat of which Captain John J. Ainsworth was master, the Lot Whitcomb, as fine and hand- some a passenger boat as any in eastern waters at that time. He came on board to welcome his mother, and we all re- marked how much they looked alike, and after we had got- ten started again we learned to our amusement that she was his stepmother. "We arrived at Portland at davlisfht Saturdav morning. 240 Dr. Owens - Adair. During the day we had a call from Miss Mary Dryer, daughter of the editor of The Oregonian, a very pleasant young lady." They did not remain at Portland, but went on to Oregon City, which was to be their home for several years. After touching on the* many changes, marriages, births and deaths that had occurred in the forty-seven years that had elapsed since that historic journey, Mrs. Holbrook concludes as fol- lows : "It may fall to a younger hand than mine to make the record of the succeeding years, but I shall be satisfied with the granting of this one petition : that the blessing of God — Father, Redeemer and Comforter, the Name which is above every name — may be upon us, and upon our children to all generations." WHAT WE NEED. What does our country need? Not armies standing, With sabers gleaming, ready for the fight ; Not increased navies, skillful and commanding, To bound the waters with an iron might ; Not haughty men, with glutted purses, trying To purchase souls and keep the power of place; Not jeweled dolls, with one another vieing For palms of beauty, eloquence or grace. But we need women, strong of soul, yet lowly, With that rare meekness, born of gentleness ; Women whose lives are pure, and clean, and holy — The women whom all little children bless. Brave, earnest women, helpful to each other. With finest scorn for all things low and mean ; Women who hold the names of wife and mother, Far nobler than the title of a queen. Some of IJkk J.d'I': ICxi'i;ies, and dedicated to human freedom, religious and po- litical liberty. Such, in brief, was the work of the Oregon pioneers. I have said that they were the last of the pioneers, and in a sense they were. True, since then many others have gone out into the wilderness and budded for themselves homes, but they have followed in the footsteps and camped on the trail of the Oregon pioneers. The conditions under which the Oregon Country was oc- cupied and settled differ widely from those attending the settlement of every other section of our country. All previous frontiersmen had located within reaching distance of sup- port and supplies. Even the Pilgrim fathers and early set- tlers on the Atlantic Coast could, in a comparatively short period of time, by ships return to the old world, or send for food and protection, but when the Oregon pioneer had crossed the Missouri river and turned his face to the setting sun there was in front of him two thousand miles of wild, unsettled, practically unexplored and unknown country. At the end of his proposed journey, and inspiring him to under- take the passage, was the surf-beaten shore of the Pacific, where the warm winds from the tropic currents keep the flowers in perennial bloom and clothe the earth ever in the garb of spring. Between were trackless plains, wide belts of treeless wastes, affording no protection against the all-penetrating alkali dust, the blistering heat of the summer sun, or the freezing blasts of the winter winds. Loftv mountain ransres 344 Dk. Owens - Adair. interposed their rock}' sides to the passage of the weary. foot-sore beasts of burden and heavily laden wagons ; and as if these difficulties were not sufficiently great to cool the ardor of the most enthusiastic emigrant, this wide, wild region was nowhere inhabited by a civilized people, but throughout by numerous tribes of the most cruel, crafty, bloodthirsty savages this world has ever known. Such were the conditions attending the migrations of the Oregon pio- neers. We have been accustomed to hear of the hardships and dangers endured by the early settlers of the Atlantic Coast portrayed and described in poetry, prose and song, their sufferings commiserated, their courage extolled. And that too much has not been said, may not be said on either behalf, I most freely admit. Yet how small the obstacles they faced, how few the dangers attending their migrations, how in- considerable the hardships they endured, compared with those of the Oregon pioneers of the '40s and early '50s. The early pioneers of the Atlantic Coast reached their des- tination in ships. Their real dangers and deprivations com- menced at the end of their journey, while those of the Ore- gon pioneers began at the crossing of the turbid waters of the treacherous Missouri and continued, with every possible variation and addition, throughout their long, trying jour- ney of two thousand miles, and when their destination was reached were probably not greatly less than those with which the early settlers on the Atlantic Coast had to contend. In all the annals of history there is no story more thrilling, more romantic than that of the Oregon pioneers. No feat- ure is wanting to lend to it all the intense interest of the most absorbing works of fiction. No hero of Cooper, or of the Western border, ever faced a situation so pregnant with dangers and hardships, or gave such proofs of the highest order of courage and strength of character as was evidenced by our pioneers in making the journey from the Missouri to SoiMi-. oi'- IIi:k Ijii', P^xperiunces. 245 the I'ariric. In Iriilli, llu- Oreii^on pifjiiecrs were by nature molded and designed for llie i.^reat work they accomplished, and which only such as they could have accomplished. They were, as a rule, horn and 1)red pioneers; were the product of generations of the best pioneer stock. The task which they so willins^ly undertook, and so splendidly performed, would have been inii)ossib]e for the passengers of the "May- flower," or any ])eopIe less acquainted with and inured to the hardshii)s and vicissitudes of border life. The Oregon pioneer was strictly "siii generis." His education, while not deficient in book knowledge, covered a wide range in that school of experience which peculiarly and especially fitted him to meet and successfully contend with the difficulties and dangers incident to frontier life. He could frame an ex- cellent code of laws for the government of a community or state, shoe a horse or mend a broken wagon wheel, as the occasion required. He could solve a problem in mathe- matics, shoot a grizzly, set a broken limb or match a red devil in cunning, as the exigency of the case might demand. That they were men and women of exceptional resources, fortitude and courage is evident, though, for the matter of that, such is usually the character of the pioneer. The coward does not venture amidst the dangers and discom- forts of such a life, and the sluggard prefers slumber and repose to toil and hardships. Only the enterprising and brave are actuated to become pioneers. Particularly is this true where the point of destination is distant and the hard- ships and dangers to be encountered exceptionally great. Such were the conditions attending the early settlement of America ; hence the remarkable mental and physical vigor, energy and progressiveness of our colonial ancestors, and hence the unparalleled progress we have made as a nation. The isolation of our territory, the great distances between it and all thickly^ populated countries, the dangers and dif- ficulties necessarily encountered in reaching; it, and the hard- 246 Dr. Owens - Adair. ships to be endured in subduing it, all contributed to its be- ing peopled with a hardy, energetic, self-reliant and re- sourceful race. Much has been said and written on the question of to whom credit is due for turning the tide of immigration to the Oregon Country in the first instance, and thereby saving to the United States this great and splendid domain. The question is deeply interesting, but too wide to be discussed fully here if reference shall be made to any other topic. Originally our claim of title to the Oregon Country was based on discovery, exploration and settlement. The sources of our title may be broadly stated to be (1) the discovery of the Columbia river by Captain Robert Gray, a citizen of the United States, in 1792; (2) the visit and exploration of Lewis and Clark in 1805-6; (3) establishment of a trading post by John Jacob Astor at Astoria in 1811 ; and (4) occu- pation and settlement of the territory by citizens of the United States. That the discovery and naming of the Columbia river by Gray and the explorations of Lewis and Clark were neces- sary and vital links in our chain of title all will admit, and here I may add that while we could not properly base any claim of title to this territory on our purchase of the Louis- iana territory, yet that purchase is inseparably associated with, and in a sense, resulted in our acquisition of the North- west Territory, for had we not acquired Louisiana it is im- probable that the Lewis and Clark expedition would ever have been undertaken ; and not only did their visit consti- tute an important link in our chain of title, but the interest excited by their report and the publication of their journal did more, probably, than all else in directing and attracting attention to the marvelous resources and natural advantages of this section, and ultimately in its settlement by citizens of the United States. Certainly Astor and the missionaries Whitman, Lee and Some of TTf.r Lifk T^xi-krifnces. 247 others arc entitled to much crc(Ht for what they did, both in the matter of strengthening our title by occupancy and in- spiring immigration. While it is true that Astor came here primarily and avowedly for the purpose of engaging in the fur trade, there is evidence that he, also, hoped thereby to as- sist in strengthening the title of the United States to the Northwest Territory. Indeed, Irving in his "Astoria" directly states that such was one of the motives that inspired Mr. Astor to the undertaking. The missionaries probably had little, if any, thought of promoting American settlement and possession when they first located here, but they subse- quently did niuch to encourage and assist such immigration. The actual settlers, however, the pioneers of 1842-3, were the final and concluding factors in securing this great do- main to the United States. The cause of their coming cannot fairly be credited to any particular individual, company or association. In truth, the real cause was that mysterious, resistless force that has been in operation throughout the centuries. It has impelled the migrations of mankind with a power as unyielding, as continuous as that of gravity itself. It carried the civilization of Greece to Rome ; of Rome throughout Western Europe ; of Europe to America ; and of America to the islands of the Pacific seas. Professor F. G. Young, in an exceptionally able and in- teresting article published in the Quarterly of the Oregon Historical Society, December, 1900, truly says : "In a sense the Oregon movement was in preparation from the time when, in 1636, Puritan congregations were led by Hooker and others from the vicinity of Boston westward through the forests to the banks of the Connecticut." The statement is true, but I think he might with equal truth have said that the movement was then in execution, as it had been for thousands of years before. For centuries the tide of emigration has set westward, due, doubtless, to 248 Dr. Owens - Adair. the love of adventure ever dominant in courageous, hardy, restless natures, but evidenced, I submit, most pronouncedly, most strikingl}-, in 1843, by a thousand men and women vol- untarily quitting- comfortable and secure homes and dwell- ing places and, unattended by any military escort, boldly plunging into the very heart of a wild, unknown, practically unexplored region, inhabited only by predatory bands of merciless savages, and entering upon a journey of two thou- sand miles through such a region — a journey they knew would be attended with hardships and dangers that no tongue can describe, no pencil can picture. The undertaking was without precedent, and it will remain without parallel. In conception and execution, those wonderful, marvelous journeys rise to the grandeur of an epic, worthy of com- memoration by a Homer or a Virgil. The immigration of 1843 may be said, I think, to have been the real substantial beginning of the permanent occu- pation and settlement of the Oregon country. Like a mighty wave from an exhaustless sea breaking over or sweeping aside every barrier, came the great human tide of that mem- orable year. Exhaustless, in truth, was the sea, and the tide never ebbed, and the wave never receded, but flowed stead- ily, resistlessly onward. Memorable, indeed, was that year. It witnessed the sov- ereignty of this republic indelibly stamped upon the Ore- gon Country. After that immigration there might be discus- sions, debates, diplomatic storms, boundary commissions, even war, but the firm tread of a thousand American settlers on Oregon soil was the stamp of fate, the seal of sovereignty. Memorable, also, is that year, because of the great names it saw added to Oregon's roll-call of heroes — James W. Nes- mith, Jesse Applegate, John G. Baker, Daniel Waldo, Thomas G. Naylor, Peter H. Burnett and many others who became distinguished in the early history of the Northwest. The greatest of these were Nesmith and Applegate, both SoMi; oi- lli.R Iji-I'-. I'".NiMci piece, bearing- date of 1840. This he kept, and after- ward presented to his wife, who wears it attached to her watch chain as a souvenir. After the completion of the Oak Point mill Mr. Munson came to Astoria, working at the cari)entcr's trade. Pie built Dr. C. J. Trenchard's residence, which was the first house of consequence in Astoria at that time, and it is still a good house, although over fifty years old. Mr. Munson said that during the time he was working on that house he often saw bear and elk come down and drink from the small stream running past near by. That portion of Astoria was then covered with tall, dense timber. In 1857 Mr. Munson went to Oysterville, Wash., where he remained six years, engaged in the oyster business. In 1859 he was married to Miss Sarah Sophia Kimball, of Clatsop Plains. In 1865 he was appointed light keeper at Cape Disappointment (now Fort Canby), which position he held till 1878, after which he moved to Astoria and built the steamer Magnet, which he ran in his own interest until 1881, when he received the appointment of keeper of the light at Point Adams, which he occupied till October, 1898, when he' retired on account of ill-health, and died at Skipanon. Ore- gon, March 22nd, 1899. Mr. Munson might well be called a "diamond in the rough." He had a big heart, a hilarious, jovial disposition, and loved company and a good social time. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, powerfully-built man. with a large, square head. He was a natural musician, and loved the violin, on which he could play by the hour, day or night, and never tire. I have heard him say, 'T believe I could play in my sleep if I tried." I have seen him play and laugh and talk at the same time, never missing a note or losing time or expression. 2GG Dr. Owens - Adair. Dancing" was the popular amusement in those earl)- times, and to dance well was an admired accomplishment. For this good music was essential, and if Mr. Munson could be secured for any party its success was assured. I have seen him, when the dancing set became entangled, raise himself to his full, commanding height, dropping his violin by his side, with his hand holding his bow uplifted, with a broad smile on his face, and vigorous stamp of his foot, call out in a stentorian voice : "Hold on, now, and get straightened out!" Then, with an energetic and artistic stroke of his bow, accompanied by another stamp of his foot, he would start them on again. If they failed a second time, he would exclaim : "Here, now, just change off ! Some of you old dancers come over here and help these new ones out !" In the end he was sure to bring order out of confusion, and in such a joyous, hearty way that everyone laughed at his own mis- takes and no one felt hurt. He was as much a captain in the ball-room as on board his steamboat. He was a most excellent mechanic and a fine machinist, and he could make anything, from a steam- boat to a violin. Like the traditional "busy bee," he was never idle. I have in my possession a piece of his handiwork which I greatly prize. It is a large window curtain pole, made from a piece of black walnut picked up from the drift near Point Adams. On this are eight large brass rings, fash- ioned by him from brass obtained from the old British bark Cairnsmore, bound for Portland, Oregon, from London with 7500 barrels of cement on board. The Cairnsmore was cast ashore on Clatsop Beach September 28th, 1883, her com- mander. Captain Gibbs, having lost his reckoning during a spell of very foggy and smoky weather. The ship came ashore at 11 p. m. at high tide, in a dead calm, on a heavy SoMK oi' lli.K l.ii'K Experiences. 267 swell, wliich lan(lc(l licr lii,i;li and dry dii the beach, where she may still be seen, a dismantled wreck of a once stately shi]). Mr. Munson mamifacturcd a number of violins, some of which were valuable. One of these he made from a piece of hardwood which he found several feet below the surface while digging' a drain in a swamp near the lig'hthouse. No hardwood grows anywhere near that vicinil)-. and this frap^- ment must have drifted ashore long years before and been covered with the debris, it may be, of a century. Thus with his skillful hands and fertile brain he was able to bring sweet music from the very bowels of the earth with which to charm the senses and make glad the heart. He did his best, and did it well. Who can do more? D. K. WARREN. My first personal transaction with Mr. Warren, as I now recollect it, was in June, 1886. I called on Mrs. Warren to obtain a lease of her house, her former home, which was surrounded by beautiful shrubs and flowers, and was then one of the handsomest residences in Astoria. She was un- certain what price to ask, saying : "I think a great deal of my old home. What do you think it ought to be worth ?" "I will give you $30 per month upon a lease for two years," I replied. "Well, we will see Mr. Warren," she said, and we went. "Do you think I ought to let the doctor have my house for $30 a month for two years?" she asked him. He smiled, and said in gentle, reassuring tones : "Well, if I were you I should think I was very fortunate to get $30 a month for two years with Dr. Adair for a tenant." When I see a man show^ such gentle consideration toward his wife he is sure to find the wav to my heart and win my admiration and confidence ever after. I lived neighbor to Mr. and j\Irs. Warren for thirteen vears. and I think he 268 Dr. Owens - Adair. was never once in my house, yet I knew him well, as did all his neighbors, through his strictly upright and c^uiet yet forceful daily life. He was a man of few words, but he thought deeply and well (which reminds me of what a lady once said of my Alattie Bell) : "When Mattie does open her mouth, you may be sure something good will come out, for she never gives utterance to a silly thought." Mr. Warren was a lover of the artistic and beautiful, as his lovely home and model farm attest. I might liken him to a perfect housekeeper, in that he "had a place for every- thing, and everything in its place," showing especially in his case that fine object lessons are of vastly more worth than words. Mr. Warren was quiet, unassuming and industrious, with an exceptionally clear head and reflective mind, through which he acquired a fortune, every dollar of which was hon- estly accumulated. He lived a laborious, honorable life from day to day, battling with and overcoming the hardships of early Oregon life for the good of both his family and the community in which he dwelt. He once said to me: "I believe that every man should settle property on his wife early in life, and allow her to manage it herself, that she may become accustomed to bus- iness, for women are often superior to men, and I think they ought to be encouraged." I shall take the liberty here of referring to a conversation I had with Mrs. Warren a few years ago. We met on the train. She was in somewhat low spirits, saying that her son George was soon to finish at the Portland Academy and that it was her special ambition that both her sons should have a university course, but that George was not willing to take it. I said : "Mrs. Warren, when your sons have finished the academy course they will have a better book-education than their father had, and book-learning, after all, is but a small part Sdmic ()!■• IIi;k Li lis I'Lxn'.KiriNCiiS. 209 of the education essential to success in life, and if your sons prove themselves the worthy equal of their father you may well take pride in heinp^ their mother." Mr. Warren showed his superior forethought, generosity and i^rat it udt' by doini;' what every right-minded man should do — providing;" bountifully for his faithful and worthy wife, who was the joy and comfort of his life. He has gone from our mortal sight. "Being dead, he yet speaketh." His protecting kindness yet guards the hearth- stone of his loved ones, "at twilight's hour and dewy morn," and still sheds a beneficent influence over the whole wide circle of his former activities. Mrs. Warren can be found in her beautiful home, sur- rounded liv her worthy and devoted children, dispensing help and comfort to the afflicted with wise and liberal hand, the "Lady Bountiful" of the community at large. "God give us men ! A time like this demands Strong minds, great hearts, true faith and ready hands ; Men whom the lust of office does not kill ; Men whom the spoils of office cannot buy ; Men who possess opinions, and a w^ill ; Men who have hoiior ; men w'ho will not lie ; Men who can stand before a demagogue And damn his treacherous flatteries without winking; Tall men, sun-crowned, who live above the fog In public duty, and in private thinking; For while the rabble, with their thumb-w^orn creeds. Their large professions and their little deeds. Mingle in selfish strife, lo ! Freedom weeps, Wrong rules the land, and waiting Justice sleeps !" 270 Dr. Owens - Adair. CHAPTER XXI. STEPHEN FOWLER CHADWICK. (By L. F. Grover.) There is no country in the world, and especially no state in the Union, whose approach to civilization, and whose original occupation by cultured people came through more romantic mystery or through greater hardships and dangers than accompanied the first settlement of Oregon by the American pioneers. This settlement was accomplished by exceptional people, under exceptional circumstances. No one undertook the long journey to this far-off land who had not in mind a vision of the broad prairies, of garden richness, the grassy hills, the snow-clad mountain peaks and the deep and silent forests of stately trees, "where rolls the Oregon," and, withal, the Eden-like climate. The charm of taking part in a new and fruitful life, where the Government gave, everyone a home- stead of broad acres, and where an opportunity offered of taking part in organizing new society, and building a new- state, with its thousand chances of success in public as well as in private life, was at the foundation of the impulse that brought the early migration of thousands to Oregon. Added to the sturdy pioneers from the valley of the Mis- sissippi, with their numerous families, came also many highly educated, talented and brilliant young men from the Atlantic states, who joined the moving panorama westward to the "Ultima Thule" of American colonization and Amer- ican destiny. Among those who were drawn by these attractions from his home in X^ew England was the subject of this sketch. SOMK OF IIkU I. IKK EXPERIENCES. 271 The Cli.'ulwicks came from iMigland with Governor VVin- throp's colony in 1(J;!() to Massachusetts Bay. Tlicy settled at Charlestown and Maiden. A branch of this family removed thence to Connecticut, on the earliest occui)ancy of that re;.,don by the Engli.sh. The descendants of this name have furnished many notable instances of distinction in the learned professions and the army and navy. They have been a stalwart race, and noted for business capacity and honorable life. Stephen Fowler Chadwick was born in Middletown, Con- necticut, December 25th, 1825, so that, at the time of his death, he was approaching the Biblical span of life of three- score and ten years. After receiving a preliminary education in his native state, of that thorough kind usually given in New England, he entered upon the study of the law in the city of New York, where, after due course of studies, in which he exhibited notable proficiency, he was admitted to the bar by the Supreme Court of the state. Early in the spring of 1851 he started for Oregon by the isthmus route and on his arrival settled at Scottsburg, in Southern Oregon, where he commenced the practice of his profession. At that time there was but few white settlers in the territory. Scottsburg, was at the head of tide-water nav- igation on the Umpqua river, and was the nearest available port of supply to the mines of Southern Oregon and North- ern California, then just discovered, so that shortly a brisk trade sprung up, calling for shippers, merchants, pack trains, mechanics and all the concomitants of a smart mining busi- ness. In all this new life young Chadwick took a full part. He became the first postmaster of Scottsburg, and a leading citizen. But not long afterward Roseburg, the county seat of Douglas county, becoming a more important place, he removed to that town, where he was elected the first county judge of that county. 273 Dr. Owens - Adair. Showing' evident aptitude for public work, official honors and trusts began to cluster about the name of the rising young attorney. He was appointed prosecuting attorney for the Territory and deputy United States district attorney for the Southern District of Oregon. In 1857 he was elected a delegate from Douglas county to the convention called to frame a constitution for the new State of Oregon. In that body he was a member of several important committees, and in particular he served on the committee on the schedule, which had the important and delicate duty of engrafting the territorial upon the state gov- ernment, and of settling the slavery question, which was thrown into the convention as a fire-brand from burning Kansas, at that time in the throes of discord and bloodshed on account of the same subject. This committee was se- lected from the most conservative members, noted for abil- ity and sound judgment, and in exercising this duty Judge Chadwick took his full part in the work before him with credit and honor. In 1864 and 1868 he was elected on the Democratic ticket as presidential elector, and at the latter date he was desig- nated by the Oregon electors as their messenger to take the vote of Oregon to the electoral college at Washington. He there delivered the vote of. this State for Horatio Seymour for President. In 1870, on the ticket headed by L. F. Grover for Gov- ernor, he was elected Secretary of State for the term of four years, and in 187-4 the same ticket was re-elected. On the resignation of Governor Grover in February, 1877, to take his seat in the Senate of the United States, to which he had been elected by the last preceding Legislature, Secretary Chadwick became Governor of Oregon by virtue of the provisions of the State constitution. In all his du- ties as Secretary of State his work was marked by clear- ness, soundness and honesty. SoMic OK IIi;k r.iFE ExpKRrENCES. 537;? His administration as chief executive was characterized by promptness and strength in the exercise of public duty and a care for the pubHc good, giving ample proofs of a high class of executive ability. While he was Governor, in 1878, the Indians of Eastern Oregon made their last strug- gle against civilization, rising in arms against the white set- tlers in a threatening and murderous manner. The Gov- ernor went in person to the front, and succeeded in securing the co-operation of the United States military forces and of the friendly chiefs in that quarter, and procured the surren- der of nine of the ringleaders of the outbreak, who were in- dicted in the state courts for murder and were convicted and hanged. At the close of his executive term Governor Chadwick delivered a message to the Legislature, which was a public document replete with valuable suggestions and wise coun- sel. No one of positive qualities in public place is ever free from the shafts of criticism and detraction. Governor Chad- wick received his share of such attentions. But correct his- tory and public opinion have cleared the field of his public life from all aspersions, and his public record stands out without a blemish. At the close of his administration as chief executive of the State he resumed the practice of his profession, and gave attention to his many business interests. For twelve years Governor Chadwick was a member of the original board of directors during all the construction period of what is now the Southern Pacific Railroad, and gave material aid in the completion of this first of Oregon's railway enterprises. It was in the mystic rites of the IMasonic fraternity that the high personal and social qualities of the subject of our sketch shone out in their clearest tone. He was a Scottish Rite Mason, of the tliirty-third degree; was Grand Master 27-i Dr. Owens - Adair. of the Grand Lodge of the State, and for over a quarter of a century he acted as chairman of the Committee on Foreign Correspondence of the Grand Lodge of Oregon. He had filled every position in the offices of the order, from the low- est to the highest. As a lawyer he was able and cogent, in his discussions before the courts, clear in the presentation of his subjects, and most careful and honorable in the protection of the in- terests of his clients, so that success at the bar was easy and natural to him. In his later years he retired from pro- fessional work. As a public speaker he was attractive and interesting and often eloquent. Among his occasional ad- dresses was the one at the laying of the cornerstone of the State Capitol at Salem in 1873. He also delivered the prin- cipal address at the annual meeting of the Oregon Pioneers in 1874. In 1855 Governor Chadwick was united in marriage with Miss Jane A. Smith, daughter of Judge Richard Smith, of Douglas county, formerly of Virginia. The issue of this marriage was two sons and two daughters — Stephen J., a prominent lawyer of Eastern Washington, late mayor of Colfax; Ella P., wife of William T. Gray, a prominent citizen of Salem, Oregon ; and Mary and P. F., yet unmar- ried. In his home relations his life was most genial and happy, and he was much given to social entertainment. He was a member of the Episcopalian church, to which he imparted many beneficial influences. The death of Governor Chadwick took place on the 14th day of January, 1895, and came suddenly and in a startling manner. He was entertaining an invited guest at dinner and in the midst of pleasant conversation at the table he was suddenly attacked by a stroke of apoplexy and died almost instantly. While medical aid was at hand, Dr. Owens-Adair being the Some ok IIi:k LifI': Ivxi-kkmcnces. 27/5 guest at llu' dinner, nn linniau ])Owcr Cf)iil(l rcc.'iU his life from tlic hand of (he fell Kfaper. The news of his deatli soon spread through the halls of the Stale Capitol, where the Legislature and Supreme CV)urt were in session, and where his stalwart form was hut the day before a familiar figure. All public business was inter- rupted and the public bodies adjourned out of respect to the deceased statesman. The funeral was conducted in the highest obsequies of the Masonic fraternity, every lodge of the state being rep- resented in full regalia. The members of the Supreme Court and of the [legislature and the state officers, with the mayor and city council of Salem and a large concourse of citizens joined to pay their last respects to the honored dead. He was buried in the Rural cemetery, amid the oak-covered hills south of the city, where all that is mortal of him rests in "The low couch of everlasting sleep." Of Stephen Fowler Chadwick it may be truthfully said : "His life was gentle, and the elements So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up And say to all the world : "This was a man !" PRESS REPORT S. F. CHADWICK DEAD. Salem, Oregon. January loth, 1895. — Ex-Governor Stephen F. Chadwick died suddenly tonight, having been stricken wdth apoplexy at his home in this city just as he had nearly finished dinner, and was entertaining an old-time friend, Mrs. Dr. Owens-Adair, of Astoria. Dinner had pro- gressed to the interim preceding dessert. His daughter Mar}' had been to the kitchen a moment, and upon entering the dining-room uttered a cry of dismay, pointing to her father, whom she had left in his happiest mood. Mrs. Chad- wick and Dr. Adair, turning toward him, beheld the aged 276 Dr. Owens - Adair. statesman lying' back in his chair, purple in the face, and gasping- for breath. Dr. Adair exercised her professional skill quickly and applied restoratives, but to no purpose. The aid of Drs. Byrd, Smith and Morse, who were hastily summoned, was also unavailing. The ex-Governor was dead. Governor Chadwick was on the streets of the city and around the State Capitol today, showing no signs of the approach of the awful visitor. He passed away without ap- parent pain or struggle, and a number of friends who flocked to his residence, with the dismal hope that the report was not true, found the benevolent features in their usual pla- cidity. Salem, Oregon, June 29th, 1895. My Dear Dr. Adair : I have thought of writing you, oh, so many times, for mother and I think of you every day, and upon our return from Southern Oregon Ella told us someone was at her house inquiring for mother, and from the description of the maid we thought it must be you, knowing you had been in Southern Oregon. We regretted very much we did not see you, as a good long talk would have done mother lots of good. We were gone about ten days. The trip did not benefit mother as much as I thought it would. She isn't very strong, and feels our loss more every day. I assure you, life is very blue and lonely, and it seems pretty hard to keep up at times, but we must. We were out to the cemetery this evening, and took some flowers. There is so little comfort in going. Steve and family are on the Sound, and will probably re- main there most of the summer. Ella is pretty well again, but was miserable for months after pa died. We were so uneasy about her. Pitzer, too, had a long sick spell. We hear from him everv week. He is still in Colfax. I en- Some of Her Life Experiences. 277 close you an article (jovctikm- (jrovcr wrote, which we think a great deal of. We would he j^lcased to hear from you at any time. Mother joins me in kindest regards to the Colonel and yourself. Mary Chadwick. Salem, Oregon, July 2d, 18S0. Mrs. B. A. Owens : Dear Madame — Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick take pleasure in acknowledging the receipt of your last letter, containing the important announcement of your success, and we assure you it is a pride to us. We thank you for this mark of esteem, and trust you will advise us of your progress. Our good wishes shall attend you always. Your many friends will rejoice to hear of your good for- tune. You certainly deserve great praise and rich reward for your individual efforts and final success. That you will have them there is no question. W^e shall be pleased to see you, and welcome you to your field of labor. That you should have maintained yourself so well abroad is another matter of pride to your friends. With great respect for you, we remain Very truly your friends, S. F. Chadwick. For self and wife, Mrs. Chadwick having read this letter with approbation. LETTER OF HON. S. F. CHADWICK TO DR. OWENS. Dr. B. A. Owens: My Dear Madame — You are such a stranger, and so far away, that I had almost looked upon you as lost; lost, in- deed. But, if I had thought a moment, I should have known that you are among those who cannot be lost on this earth. 278 Dr. Owens - Adair. While not hearing of you, or rather from yon, for some time, I have seen excellent notices of you, which have made me very proud of your good name and character. I talk about you to your friends. Only a few days ago Dr. Glenn was speaking of you. In fact, it was on the day you were to sail for Europe. The impulse to do you justice on all occasions is very strong in me, hence I often think of you and your career as a heroine, for such you are. Now I will say your letter of the Tth of April is before me. So far as the duties on instruments and apparel are concerned, I fear that I am not able to advise you correctly, but hope that the kind Providence that has prospered all your ways will pro- tect you in all your undertakings, especially in this, and re- turn you to your friends and professional usefulness after you have enjoyed the pleasures of the anticipated visit to your friends in Europe. I believe your visit to Europe will help you. After all, I believe you are the first woman in the United States who studied medicine regularly. In this I may be mistaken, but I think not. When you boi-rowed books of Dr. Hamilton so many years ago to read up in your profession, I wondered at the step you had taken. So did others. While I was hopeful of you, and encouraged you, others were disposed to question the propriety of such a step. Time rolled on, and you came out of the trial with honor.. Who could have done more, or as much? No lady stood higher, and none more deserved to. All your life you have been marked for decision of character, excellence of pur- pose, and great ability in all you have undertaken, and to- day you have the respect, confidence and praise of all your acquaintances, who have watched and admired you. This is no flattery. You need none, for you are as far ahead of it as the day is from the night. Put all this together with the fact that you were the first lady on the Pacific Coast, if not in the United States, who ever took a medical work into SuiMK (Ji- lliCK J.iFi': Jixi'i-,iMK.vf;KS. 379 her hands to master the medical profession, and you will not wonder at the honor I bestow upon you. From your standpoint now, look hack and sec iiovv many ladies have since gone into the profession of medicine. You know many, hut when you hejuan }i)U did not know one. To maintain that honor, and make \onr life a further mark for the respect and conlidcncc of your friends will he your con- stant care. You may not like to he called the "mother of all the lady doctors," but in one sense it is so, and they should be consid- erate enough to bestow upon their "alma mater" that love and esteem due you from those who have but followed the example you were firm and resolute enough to set them. You broke down the barriers of prejudice, defied the scan- dal that followed the profession when woman aims to as- sume its functions, and said to the world : "This delicate and sympathetic office of a physician belongs more to my sex than to the other, and I will enter it, and make it an honor to woman." You have done all these things, and more, for the cause you espouse. I hope your visit will be pleasant. I know it will be. It is the desire of my life to take such a trip. No one will ap- preciate it more than you will. Local news is scarce. My family are well. Mrs. C. did not get that paper you sent. I want to read the article. Perhaps it will come yet. We look for a large immigration this year. You will re- turn in good fruit time, and we are to have an abundance of it. You are fond of such seasons. You did not mention whether George is with you. i\Iay God bless you and keep you from harm. We send our love to you. I remain your friend, S. F. Chadwick. 280 Dr. Owens - Adair. In a letter to Colonel Adair, Governor Chadwick said : "I trust the doctor is well. I am indebted to her skill and kindness. These things I shall treasure, for they have given me better health than I had a year ago, far better, and your joint attentions last year, are very pleasant mem- ories. Would that I could return them. May you both en- joy a year of prosperity in everything, to be followed by prosperity through all coming years." Salem, Oregon, April 24th, 1890. Mrs. Dr. Owens-Adair : Dear Madame — I notice you are having natural gas at Warrenton. I don't mean real estate agents, though the country is full of that kind of gas. I want to tell you some- thing you may know. Mr. AVilliam Perry, whom you knew when he lived on Clatsop Plains, in the '40s, also at Rose- burg, told me that the Indians often brought to his place, and no doubt to your father's too, in small cans, "Barba-does tar" (petroleum). They got it from a mountain, where it ran out of the side. While the Indians could not tell exactly where it was, they said it was down the beach toward Tillamook. Perry al- ways said he could find it. I kept at him to do so, but he never found time to go and see to it. He sent Vail about fifteen years ago. He went over to Tillamook, and up the mountains, until he was lost, and finally returned home without finding it. The Indians reported plenty of tar. I have thought this : If some petroleum could be put into a can and shown to the oldest Indians along the coast to Tillamook, they may remember where it can be found, for there are Indians living who knew all about it. They may be found on the reservation, but Clatsop Indians would know, from the oldest down to their descendants. It was not worth m.uch then. If this story of Perry's is true, and I believe it, that flow SOMK OF IIkK LiI'K JCxI'KHIKNCES. 2R1 of petroleum can be found. Now you will ask : "Why don't you borrow an oyster can and come down and find it?" Well, I will tell you why. Five weeks ago today I was at Roslyn, Washington, anrl when about to leave I slipped on an icy patch and fell on my ankle, spraining it badly. Why I did not break a bone I cannot tell. I have not walked since. I went to Ellensburg and George, your son, attended to it for me, and I am doing very well. Can walk, with the aid of a chair, though I do not do much of it yet. I think in two weeks I shall be out once more. I could not walk with the chair support a week ago. When I get well, and the season is suited to it, I will be on hand, with sample boxes, or bottles of petroleum, in search of this mountain, or hill, that contains the precious stuff. It is there, and maybe it will stay there ; who knows ? I see your "Union" party is quite respectable. The names, so far as I know, are of our best citizens. Great credit is due you for the name. I think they wall poll a large vote. They are men who mean business. Give my regards to the Colonel. Ask him if he wants to be a partner in a mountain of tar. Yours truly, S. F. Chadwick. I forgot to say we are all as w^ell as usual, except my case, already reported. Salem, Oregon, April 30th, 1890. Col. John Adair : My Dear Sir — Yours of yesterday came duly to hand. I see that you have secured your railroad. I am so glad. The Coos Bay and Roseburg will be built, also. What will be- come of this country? Old Major Tucker, whom, perhaps, you knew, when a boy, used to say that "Oregon was the extenuation of a great country," and when he was "full" he was rather interesting. But he never dreamed of a railroad then. A reader of Irving's "Astoria" could not find the place 282 Dr. Owens - Adair. now. I presume there is a dispute as to where old Fort George stood. I was on the spot in April, 1857. But you are to have the "boss" residence property, as well as for business, with a railroad whistling through it all. I have great faith in the doctor's long head and good luck. She has made no mistakes in her judgment in going to As- toria. You are going to be very rich. Now I feel sure of the "Barbadoes tar." We shall find it, as sure as we live. It will follow the doctor's good luck. Silas B. Smith I do not now remember. His mother was not the wife of Miller Smith, of Roseburg, was she? If so, I was acquainted with him. Had I taken Miller Smith in those early days, we could have found the tar. Never thought of him. I tied to Mr. Perry all the time, and did nothing. This Smith boy was cjuite a lad then. I hope you will find the person you want. It will be on Government land, no doubt. If found on school land, we can buy it. If otherwise, we will have to get it the best way wc can — pre- empt or homestead. We must look into this before the thing is made public. I have looked over all the mineral works I have, and find no mention of petroleum. You are the authority on that point. We must be sure that we have the thing certain, if it is found. I am now going about the house with crutch and cane. My inside ankle, on right side of foot, is cjuite sore, but improving. This is near the last of it. Better, otherwise. I w'ill be ready for that excursion to the mine in about a month. With kind regards to the doctor, I remain, yours truly, S. F. Chadwick. Some of Hek Life Experiences. 283 CHAPTER XXII. LETTERS OF HON. JESSE AIM'LEGATE. My excuse for makiiii;- ])ii1)lic tliese letters from my dear and honored friend is that they show the depth of his pure and sensitive nature, and I beHeve that Oregon is entitled to all that enhances the greatness and goodness of this, one of her noblest sons, who served her for so long, so faithfully and well. He nursed me as a babe, and carried me on his brawny shoulders for many miles over those rough, almost endless emigrant trails. He and my father were devoted friends, and to the day of his death he was to me as a true and affection- ate father, his habit being always to address me as "My child." Ashland, Oregon, April 23d, 1872. M]y Dear Friend — I returned here yesterday from Sacra- mento and San Francisco, and will commence operations in the field as soon as Dan joins me from home and my party is equipped. If you still wish your son to make a campaign with me, I shall be pleased to please you in that matter, hoping to make the campaign as pleasant as possible to the young gen- tleman himself. I find that I am not the only old man who has fallen des- perately in love with you. Colonel Hooker is even (if that were possible) more deeply smitten than myself, and I am satisfied, from the strong expressions he uses in your praise, that if the colonel had not an "encumbrance" already, A. would have to look to his laurels, for he would have a pci- severing and most gallant competitor for your favor. 284 Dr. Owexs - Adair. Not knowing when at Yreka that I would meet orders at this point, I promised to deliver for the colonel h\b very high regards, which he clothed in most knightly phrase, saying that he "failed to call upon you when last at Rose- burg, not because his heart did not prompt him to do so, but because, covered with mud and dirt, with no means of im- proving his toilet, his vanity stood in the way of the prompt- ings of his tenderer feelings. In a word, the colonel has formed a very high opinion of you, and says he does not think that in his whole life he has met a lady who combined so many personal charms with so bright an intellect. Nor must I forget to thank you for the words of kindness in which you expressed yourself to him concerning me. If your son is not ready, or he by any accident misses Dan, I will in a week or ten days complete a part of my work that must be immediately reported at Portland. This may enable me to make a flying visit home, when I can take your young gentleman in my own charge on my return, and if I come no farther north than Jacksonville, to which point I must come, I will telegraph to you for your boy to meet me there. With most sincere wishes for your health and happiness, I am, as ever, your sincere friend, Jesse Applegate. P. S. — My work commences at the south boundary of the State, on the western shore of Little, or lower Klamath lake, and extends north. A much pleasanter country than 1 expected to be in when I last saw you. Broken rest and hard work has rather prostrated me. Such things seem to tax my physical powers more than formerly. Perhaps yoa are soon to lose a friend who hopes for your happiness with the unselfish yearnings of a father. • Let him have your kind remembrance. J. A. SoMK OK T1f,k Lifk Kxi'kriknces. 285 Yoncalla, Oregon, June 22d, 1872. My Dear Ivricnd — When I arrived at home from the south I found one of my two bundles of blankets open in the stage. I gathered up such things as I could find, sup- posing that George's pillow and Dan's carpet-bag were in the other bundle, but both bag and pillow are missing. I did not arrive from Portland until this morning, or I would have instituted inquiries after them earlier, with better hope of recovering them. As George will know the carpet-bag, tell him I will thank him very much if he will inquire at the stage stable and of the drivers respecting the bag and pil- low. I will write to Oakland about them today. The bag (Dan's) is a common (and as well as I can remem- ber) red and white carpet. It contains, besides some clothes, his watch. I wish George to write to me and let me know what he is studying, for if I cannot always have him with me I would like to have him for a correspondent. Perhaps it was love for the mother that first warmed my heart toward the son, but that could only have produced a pre- possession in his favor, soon to pass away, had there been no quality in the boy to keep alive and increase the growth of my kindly feelings ; but I like the boy for himself. For, of hasty temper and quick to like or dislike, he also readily forgives. His heart is too full of love and tenderness long to afford room for the baser passions of malice and revenge. For though of the thoughtless age of youth, and sometimes suffering from both pain and fatigue, he always showed for me not only respect, but tenderness and thought of my comfort before his own. At night, when we were under our blankets, and, as it were, alone with each other, he would nestle close to me and caress my hands or face with the gentle touch of woman, and make the kindest inquiries after my comfort. Once, I remember, when our bed was made upon a rough rock, I complained of its hardness. He was so determined I should sleep on his pillow that he 286 Dr. Owens - Adair. would not use it himself, and said if I did not want it, it might lie on the ground unused. It was not until after the perverse child was asleep that I could arrange his bedding so that he could rest comfortably. If, sometimes, when in the moonlight, as I looked upon the pale face of the sleeping boy and anxiously studied his future (when neither his mod- esty nor his manhood would be offended by the liberty), I kissed his cheek or his forehead, I am not ashamed of the weakness. It is not to alarm you, but if possible to avert the fate that seems to threaten the poor boy, that I disclose the anxious fears I have respecting him. His frame, I fear, is far too weak long to support his ever active intellect and ever active spirit. "The over keen blade soon cuts away the scabbard." As I said to you at Roseburg, you have done your part in his parentage by imparting to him your own bright intelli- gence and warm affections, but his father was not himself sound, or from some other cause, has not given to his son a strong, enduring body, or at least one not equal to the strain put upon it by a mind as active as that of George. George is also full of courage, which, united with a hasty temper, is always a tax on a weak constitution. My sons, if not markedly intellectual, are, at least, strong, robust, en- during men, of much firmness and persistence and, of course, animal courage — the result of these fine bodily qualities. They owe these hissings to healthy parents, who lived in the simplicity of nature, unvexed by the turmoils, artificial cares, hate and jealousies of so-called civilized life. About hatred and jealousy I have only to say : They are base passions, which we have in common with the lower ani- mals. Besides the evils they work to others, they are a con- tinual punishment to those who entertain them. They cannot long remain the tenants of a pure and innocent heart. They will soon drive out innocence and corrupt purity, or be them- selves driven out. I write knowingly upon this subject, be- cause in the course of mv life I have been afflicted with both. SoMK OK IIi;k I.iI'K Ivx i-kkirnces. 287 But I have earnestly struggled against tlicni, and no struggle in a good cause is entirely barren of good results. Tolera- tion and charity for llic faults and failings of others, I am sure, may be cultivated until they will create in our souls desire for the good of all, and a sense of being at peace with all the world. Perhaps no degree of cultivation will save us from anger when provoked by deep or sudden injury, but we need not sufTer it to degenerate into hatred and revenge. Sincerely your friend, Jesse Applegate. Linkvillc, Oregon, November 20th, 1873. My Very Dear Friend — Your letter was brought to me at my sheep ranch, more than fifty miles from any postoffice. I read it sitting upon a stone, with the broad expanse of soli- tude spread around me, while I watched and herded another man's sheep for a living ! When you also consider that I am between sixty and seventy years of age, and poor, and have won no distinction of any kind, it seems to me the oracle you consult is a frail one indeed. But as I do love you, dear, as the "bone of my bone, and flesh of my tiesh," my great partiality for you may lead me to hope more from your remarkable intellect than you will realize. If you had the means (and if I had them you should have them) your plan is just such a one as I would form for vou, as your in- clinations lead you in that direction. You are right in deciding that your mind was not given you to be frittered away in frivolity. I was right in decid- ing that marriage and motherhood were not intended for you by the Creator. He designed you for a higher destiny, and you will attain it. Let your motto be "Excelsior.'' Avoid love, marriage and all other entanglements and relaxations until you have attained to the high distinction to wdiich you aspire. Fame and fortune will then await you, and there will still be time to indulge in the tenderness of your heart and the warmth of vour affections. 288 Dr. Owens -Adair. " It is not probable tbat you and I will ever meet again. I am old and continually receding- into a deeper and darker obscurity, perhaps shortly to die in some solitary desert, where even my bones will not again be seen by any human being, while your course will still be onward and upward, with a fame probably as wide as literature and as enduring as Time. I feel, however, that the mystic cord of affection has drawn us together; that the love and sympathy between us has been pure and chaste as the virgin snows upon the lap of Diana, and that it will endure to the end, whatever end we shall reach. At a time of more leisure I will try to write again. God' bless and prosper you in all your undertakings. Jesse Applegate. Clear Lake, Colorado, January 5th, 1874. Dear Friend — Your short note of "farewell" was received yesterday. While I am comforted and pleased with the earnest expressions of the love and sympathy of one so much above the common, both physically and mentally, I feel it to be my duty to disabuse you of some errors respecting myself. And though the confession will probably lower me in your esteem, which of all things I would like to retain, yet, as an honest man, I cannot retain your love, highly as I prize it, if given under a false impression. Intellectually, I fall far below the standard you seem to have set up of my measure. Not from a lack of a clear, discriminating mind, but from a lack of that indomitable courage and perseverance that in- spires you to great undertakings, and will bear you forward to great results. Too easily discouraged and turned aside by obstacles, and influenced by strong passions and appetites my advance in the path of knowledge has not been that of a traveler determined to reach the end of his journey, but a loiterer, who follows the path for the beauty and grandeur of the scene and the rich abundance of the flowers that strewed the way. Some of Hick Liik Ivxi'ijuenoes, 289 My mind led me in the pursuit of science; it was to me an easy road to pursue. Those things (h'fflcult and abstruse to most minds presented no difficulties to mine. My remark- able progress attracted the attention of the learned. Rich men offered their patronage, and money freely tendered was not wanting to bring me forward on the road I seemed so easily to follow. l^>ut I was too proud to be dependent on any man's bounty and too poor to prosecute my studies without first procuring the means of support. Since then I have only been able, at periods few and far between, to re- view what I so rapidly acquired in youth. It is too painful to recount, even to you, my sympathizing friend, my further history. Suffice it to say that, like many others, the promise of my youth was not realized in manhood. The struggle for competence brought me in contact with the world. I yielded the lofty but lonely pursuit of science to its seductions. I have committed many follies and some vices. All the ills that beset me I owe to myself. All the pleasures of my life I owe to others. The love and respect I receive from those near to me by the ties of blood rise up before me as a con- tinual reproach. It was a great folly, almost a crime, that has brought them into the world, and it is owing to my non- improvement of my opportunities that they are left to strug- gle with it in the humble vale of poverty and ignorance. It is but a poor atonement I can make for all the ills I have brought upon them to devote the few remaining days I have to living entirely to their service. And it would be a pleas- ure I do not deserve longer to enjoy your love and sym- pathy under the false impression that I am either a martyr or a hero. God bless you. Good-bye. Jesse Applegate. Clear Lake, Colorado, November 5th, 1876. My Friend — When 3^ou told me the pecuniary success you had gained and the social standing you had reached by mak- ing yourself, a physician, and I suggested to you that a 290 Dr. Owens - Adair. ftirther success was in your reach by making yourself emi- nent in the scientific departments of your profession, you asked me the question, "Do you really believe me capable of reaching so high an eminence?" Upon an examination of this question it presents two as- pects. Neither of them are very flattering to me. First, it expressed a doubt of my sincerity, or, second, a doubt of my jvidgment, and I think I at least have a right to ask upon which ground I am to place the meaning of your question. If there is anything in our past intercourse that implies a want of sincerity on my part, I am not aware of it. True, I have said things of you and to you that were flattering, and intended to be so, but they were uttered in the utmost sin- cerity, and intended to encourage you in pursuits calculated to elevate, strengthen and refine you intellectually. I have had no personal end to gain by flattering your van- ity, or by misleading or deceiving you on any point. And as you know this as well as I do, I must conclude that you think my judgment, which you have flattered me by placing a high value on, is now failing me. Is this so? And if so, have I not earned, if in no other way, by always treating you with candor, candor in return? I have much more to say to you, but it seems out of place until this question is settled. It seems to me that if it is possible for a man and woman to hold intercourse as pure, but kindred intelligences, free from even the taint of pas- sion, it is so for you and me. You are in the glory of womanhood, endowed physically with perfections enough to excite the admiration of the op- posite sex and the envy of your own. You have an intellect strengthened by a powerful will, which has overcome all ob- stacles to your upward course. Hardest task of all, you have crushed out love and tenderness from your woman's heart. Are you going to stop in the midst of your career? Are Some of Her Lu-k Exi'ekiences. 291 all these sacrifices to be made, and you yet fall short of the goal of your ambition ? Most solemnly and earnestly do I protest against such a termination. Better to have remained the humble dressmaker and en- joyed the humble but free and independent life that calling afforded you than fail in a higher aim. Let me know how it is with you. Very truly yours, Jesse Applegate. Mount Yoncalla, Oregon, June 23d, 1878. Dear Madam — Your letter of June 9th was received but a few days ago, as I get my mail at Drain, being most con- venient. I am sorry you deem it necessary to go East to study. It will, of course, put an end to your present prosperous prac- tice, and instead of "putting money in thy purse," it will draw upon it heavily. Money is a very handy thing to have. I know by bitter experience that the want of it is not only very inconvenient, but puts a veto on many great undertak- ings and grand schemes. The practical (which you call clinical) branch of your profession you can perfect yourself in while at the same time helping yourself and others, while two hours in the day devoted to the study of a specialty of your own choosing may give you the wealth and fame your friends hope you may some time possess. But as you promise me a visit, I will defer the discussion of the subject until that time, as there may be reasons for your Eastern journey other than study. I shall be very glad to see you and have you spend a few days with us, but I think it right to warn you that we are very poor, live very hard, and can promise you none of the comforts and luxuries }0U enjoy daily in the home you have created for ourself. Truly your friend, Jesse Applegate. 292 Dr. Owens - Adair. Mount Yoncalla, Oregon, August 14th, 1878. Mrs. B. A. Owens : Dear Madam — Since studing over the matter of your con- templated journey in the pursuit of knowledge, and how I could best assist you in your laudable purpose, I have come to the following conclusions : As your purpose is to raise yourself not only to a- higher place in your profession, but also to a higher sphere in human society, a word or two of advice from an old and sin- cere friend must not give offense. From the moment you step on board the steamer to begin your tour, put on the manners, deportment, dress and address of the class to which you intend hereafter to belong, and never thereafter let your- self down from the highest standard. Even as a subject of conversation avoid politics generally, and woman's rights es- pecially, as you w'ould the plague. In your own person and pursuits you give the highest proof of the equality of the hu- man intellect, and an exemplar as to the branches of hu- man knowledge to which that of the female should be direct- ed. In the broad and as yet unexplored fields of science there is plenty of room for all minds to act without jostling each other, and to labor in the fields of knowledge in which the dress of flesh which Nature has placed upon them is not an incumbrance. Leave, therefore, the kindred subjects, of war and politics to minds cast in the stronger and grosser molds of man, as inconsistent with the delicacy and refinement that makes woman most attractive to her opposite. This perhaps is as large a dose of nester as I should give until I see what ef- fect it has upon the patient. If the symptoms are favorable I may continue the treatment. Sincerely your friend, Jesse Applegate. Had I but taken the advice of my dear old friend not to talk politics, woman suffrage and kindred subjects, I might have saved myself worlds of trouble and fountains of tears. SoMi-: f)i' \\\'A< r.ri'K Kxi'i'-.KrF.NCFCS. 293 But, with my iin])ctiK)ii.s and wilful nature, it seemed impos- sible for me not to battle for wliat T considered to be right and to denounce that which I believed to be wrong. And thus, through my life T have acted in accordance with my nature, and doubtless will to the end of the last chapter. B. A. O.-A. Ann Arbor, April 25, 1879. My Dear Friend — I shall do what I should have done six weeks agO' — answered your valued letter, I thought when I left home I should have an abundance of time to de- vote to letter writing ; but, alas, I find I have been obliged to drop most of my correspondents ; have only saved a few choice ones, and am sorry to say that they have been sadly neglected ; but when I tell you I am crowding three weeks' work into two, you will not censure me. You know I have never had early training. I find it hard work attempting such a science, with so little preparation ; but I would have you understand that I am not in the least discouraged ; to the contrary, I am greatly encouraged. My health is excel- lent, and I have accomplished far more, thus far, than I had expected, and I look forward to when I shall be fully fitted to enter upon the life-labor of my choice. In fifteen months from now I hope to be on my way to Europe, where I contemplate spending one, perhaps two, years. Then for home, and friends. You are right when you say I am seeking high position in the medical profes- sion, I am. And who but you, my dear, honored friend and father (for you have been a father to me in the true sense of the term), first said to me, "You must occupy a professor's chair; I would have no other place for you." God knows how often I have blessed you for that encour- agement, though it did then seem an impossibility. The road was so long ; the height so great ; and w-ithal, I had so little faith in mvself. 294 Dr. Owens - Adair. ' Not so now. I feel that I am on the right road, and some- times I fancy I can ahnost see the g-limmer of rays in the not far distant future. And thus I am urged on and on, receiving new strength every day. I know your ambition for me is in another direction, but I feel there is too much risk involved in it, and it would pre- vent or delay the consummation of other plans by which I believe I can do more good with no risk to health or life. T feel that the time for that has passed now. I must look for the crown in another direction. I must sacrifice one, and I have chosen that one which to me seems fraught with less danger, and more success. True, the longings of my heart reach out toward the other, yet I must be content with that which is within my reach. Circumstances and regulations forbid the one, at present, and may never favor its devol- opment, but I shall strive to make up for the loss by a life well spent; this I promise you. Please write when you find time. Your letters always encourage me. They are filled with beautiful thoughts and sentiment, which I treasure with care by copying in a blank book, with other valuables. Some day they will be utilized. They must not decay. B. A. O. June, 1879. Dear Friend — Yours of the 25th ult. was received yes- terday. If I could believe all the flattering things you say of me, I should be very vain, indeed ; but I am no longer a believer in my own judgment, and am a frequent sufferer from mistakes in my own person. It would make me very unhappy to believe that errors that have made my own life a failure extended their baleful influence to those dear to me. I have of late felt much uneasiness in regard to you, know- ing that I most earnestly advised you to the pursuit of knowl- edge. I have feared my advice had some influence in shap- SoMK (>i- Hi:k Likh: Experiences, 295 ing your life, and that success in your high pursuit would be too dearly paid for, if gained at the expense of your happiness. This feeling has been painfully increased by a little inci- dent that happened when I was in Roseburg last month. Since I advised a sacrifice of your heart to your brain, I think your lovep has looked upon me as an enemy ; at any rate, he has not met me with his usual cordiality, — and I, as a matter of course, have not called upon him. This time I met him in the street, saluted him pleasantly, told him that I had lately heard from our mutual friend, Mrs. Owens ; that you were pleasantly located at one of the best educa- tional institutions in the Union, and pushing your studies with the energy and industry which he knew you always practiced. I said this to him, as I wished to meet the only matter which could cause him to have hard feelings toward me. I saw that he was glad to have the opportunity to talk of you, but I could not then stop, as I was on my way to meet an engagement with my lawyers. But an hour after, in the dusk of the evening, I found him in the same place, and the desired conversation was had. When you have reached your highest ambition, and are enthroned on your coveted professor's chair, with the approv- al of those whose approval is fame, it is not probable a higher tribute will be paid to you than by those two earnest men, so widely differing from each other in age, sentiments, and pursuits, but each finding in you qualities to admire, and to love, according to his own standard of excellence. The one estimating you as a bright intellect, eager to drink deeply at the fountain of knowledge ; to the other as a bright, beautiful w'oman, loving, and inspiring love. To the one you are a seraph ; to the other a cherub ; a goddess to both. Your medical science informs you that for the health of the body every organ must have full play, every muscle free 296 Dr. Owens - Adair. exercise. So, also, to make happy the mind, a free intellect must be warmed and fostered by the cultivation of the affec- tions. To gain a high degree of knowledge, it is not neces- sary, as you seem to think, that all the cravings of the wo- man's heart must be denied. On the contrary, their continual craving for indulgence will ultiniately so eugross the mind as to weaken its strength, destroy its activity, and blunt its perceptions. True, if the question of bread and butter was involved, it would make a difference, but this is not your case. You have enough for the present, and may pro- vide amply for the future by accepting the love and protec- tion of one whose long and faithful devotion ought to soft- en the coldest heart. If you tell him that after you com- plete the tour of Europe you will become his wife, I think you will make him extremely happy, and, perhaps fill the void in your own heart. Your friend, Jesse Applegate. Ann Arbor, Mich., June 16, 1879. My Dear Friend — Your valued favor is before me. I am very sorry that you should feel remorse of conscience in re- gard to what might have been between the person and my- self. Now let me forever relieve you of every vestige of con- demnation in that direction, and believe me when I tell you that he alone was the cause, and the only cause of our separation. He knows this, and should not blame a living being. He never understood me; never knew how to treat me; and yet he loves me to that extent that he is jealous of the love of all who pay me respect. His ideas of woman's position (sphere) do not run exactly in the groove with my own. I never was born to be controlled by the light of any one's opinion, simply because that person happened to be a man, and I could not be thus led if that person had be- come my husband. I can never give up my freedom, my SoMK OK IIi:r r.ri-K Experiencks. 297 indivKlualily ; f will not be subjected to vvliims and fancies. Gold and hixin-ics do not tempt me. I do not covet an aimless, or fashionable life, made up of dress, parties, dinners, gossip, and little nothings. Such a life would soon bleach my hair, adorn my face with wrinkles, and transform me into a hysterical old woman, — not a very beautiful picture, but one which can be found in many homes of wealth. I will anticipate you by saying, "Love can regulate and control all these objections." I admit that it has done wonders in the right direction, but still it has led thousands upon thousands to destruction. The loves of appetite are the greatest of all curses. They may have their origin in hereditary ideas and principles, which, as you know, are not easily eradicated, especially when sanctioned by society, and protected by law. I agree with you that every organ of the body does require exercise for health, but not equally so, one with another. True, the cultivation of the affections is necessary for the healthy and happy mind, but this does not depend upon wedlock. If we are lovable we will be loved. Our daily lives afford ample opportunities for the cultivation of these refining ele- ments. I have looked this subject over. I have studied its many surfaces and angles. I have divided it into its different ele- ments. I have tested each one. And today I thank God that I had sufficient power to choose the path which T did select. Never will I forget the encouraging words which a^ou, and one other, gave me, when all others opposed. The tlesli was weak. I needed a stimulus, and I received it. Perchance it was the workings of a "guardian angel" that sent 3'ou. Happy thought ! When I return, should I consent to accept the position which you seem to think I should accept, he would be a hap- pier man than he ever could have been had I occupied that place years ago. 298 Dr. Owens - Adair. I have preached )'0u a sermon. How do you like it ? Am I right, or am I wrong? Talk to me freely. Show me all my imperfections. I will profit by it. Oh, if I only had language, words, to express my feelings and views ! I would write you a letter on this subject worth reading. But, alas, I have but a conglomerate mass of confusion to select from. My implements are all rough, unpolished. Well do I know what long years of persistent toil are re- quired to set this house in a systematic, working order. I am equal to the task, if life and health are spared me. I shall succeed. B. A. O. Yoncalla, Oregon, Aug. 27, 1883. Mrs. B. A. Owens, M. D. My Very Dear Friend — Your kind and flattering letter, addressed to me at this place, has been received, and prob- ably your most skilfully prepared prescription never soothed the suffering of an afflicted body more than your kind and affectionate words have cheered and comforted my some- what drooping spirit. I have so often been the victim of mis- placed confidence, — so often by misfortune, had reason to doubt the soundness of my own judgment,— my sincerity doubted, and my motives misjudged by others, that you can scarce conceive how proud I am of your good opinion and kind recollection. But, my dear friend, you greatly over-rate the little 1 have been able to do for you. It is true, I gave you my best judgment, and my warmest sympathy, unbiased by a single selfish motive; but it is to your own strong mind, and in- domitable energy that you owe your success in life; and to your merit, not to luck or accident, is due the favors that fortune is showering upon you. Be true to yourself, and firm in the pursuit of a high purpose in life, and neither men nor devils can prevent you from reaching the goal of your ambition. As I believe it will give you pleasure, I Some oi- IIiok LiI'I'; I^xim-.kikncf.s. 299 will say of myself that I am in better health, better spirits, and am cheered by a brighter future than for many years of the past. And, should I continue on earth a few more years longer, in this happy condition of mind and body, that I shall not be doomed to a struggle with extreme penury, so crushing to life and manhood. If years are granted to me, I hope to pass some of them in your society, — to see you daily, and perhaps hold in v.\y arms that paragon of a boy who is in the flesh to transmit your honored name and noble blood to posterity. It will be one of my greatest pleasures to renew the friendly and frequent correspondence that once existed between us. That you should "Tell me all that is in thine heart." I will rejoice with you in all your successes, sympathize with you and console you in your sorrows and misfortunes, and counsel with you in your troubles and perplexities. All this will I do, because my heart is with you. As ever yours, Jesse Applegate, Drain, Oregon, Sept. 16, 1887. My Dear Friend — It would afford me much pleasure to witness your happiness as that of any living person, I think, after your hard struggle, and glorious conquest over adverse fortune, you should enjoy the fruits of your labors, while it is yet time. But when our bodies are worn out, and death is at times hovering near us, it is too late to expect much more from the enjoyments of sense. But I hear nothing from you about woman's rights. Has the woman of grass prevailed over the woman of spirit ? Has a good and loving husband proved to be all that a woman needs to make her happy in this world? I think it is even so. But, as man partakes of two natures, mental and physical, the pleasures of sense are not satisfying. The immortal part craves its enjoyments also. The body seeks relaxation and repose, while the ever-sleepless mind de- 300 Dr. Owens - Adair. mahds change, and must have it. Natures Hke ours are not to be satisfied with any amount of the good, or goods, of the known, but continually seek acquaintance with the mys- teries that surround it. And there are plenty of them. When the little "god" has done his work, your mind will return to its work, with greater energy and strength for its relaxation and rest. Then, and not while you are in dalli- ance with sensual love, will your mind and mine be in ac- cord with each other. Give my best respects to your husband, and assure him that I do not envy him his happiness. Sincerely your friend, Jesse Applegate. Mrs. B. a. Adair. Some of Her Life Experiences. 301 CHAPTER XXni. LIST OF CLATSOP PIONEERS. Astoria, Ore., May 27, 1898. Mrs. B. Owens-Adair : Dear Madam — I enclose a list of names taken from the pioneer and historical records, confining myself, in accord- ance with your suggestion, to those who live to the Scrip- ture allotment of three-score and ten. Sveral names on your list (which I return herewith) are not entered on the said records, and I have no means of giving you the de- sired information. Yours respectfully, E. C. HOLDEN. Secretary Pioneer Society of Clatsop County. LIST OF CLATSOP PIONEERS. Names. Arrived. Adair, John, Sr Apr. 1849 Adair, Mrs. M. A Apr. 1849 Abell, Miss Ann 1843 Burnside. David July, 1847 Boelling, Conrad Nov. 1847 Boelling, Mrs. C Nov. 1847 Condit, Alvah Oct. 1844 Condit, Mrs. Ruth Dec. 1844 Carnahan,- Hiram Oct. 1846 Callender, Philo Nov. 1850 Callender, Mrs. A. M July, 1860 Coffenberry, G. M 1846 Davidson, Geo Mar. 1850 Eberman. N. E Oct. 1843 Elder Very early Born. Died. 1808 1889 1816 1893 1 Q1 1 1872 1803 1818 1898 1799 1883 1804 1887 1820 1896 1805 1890 1806 1888 1814 1898 1828 living 1821 1890 about 1859 302 Dr. Owens - Adair. Names. Arrived. Ferguson, A. W Aug. 1850 Ferrell, Ferdinand Mar. 1849 Ferrell, Mrs .... Gray, Wm. H Sept. 1836 Gray, Mrs. M. A Aug. 1838 Gearhart, Philip Sept. 1848 Gearhart, Margaret Sept. 1848 Gilman, Capt. M. M June, 1850 Hobson, Wm Oct. 1843 Hobson, John Oct. 1843 Hobson, Mrs. Diana Dec. 1843 Higgins, Joseph D Sept. 1850 Hall, Samuel Very early Holman, Joseph D May,. 1840 Ingalls, David Oct. 1845 Jeffers, Joseph Sept. 1847 Jeffers, Mrs. Sarah 1847 Johnson, Capt. Philip .... Judson, L. A 1839 Judson, Mrs 1839 Kindred, B. C Dec. 1844 Kindred, Mrs. Rachel Dec. 1844 Lanphear, Hester 1847 Marlin, — Very early McEwan, Robt. S Oct. 1846 Moffat, J. W .Nov. 1844 Morrison, R. W July, 1847 Morrison, Mrs. Nancy July, 1847 Morgan, David Dec. 1852 McKean, S. T 1847 Motley, — 1844 McKean, Mrs. Polly Hicks.. 1847 Munson, J. W 1853 Munson, Mrs. Sophia 1837 Born. Died. 1821 1891 1813 1879 1810 1889 1810 1881 1810 1881 1898 1811 1880 1797 1879 1824 1896 1838 1874 1823 1896 1808 1880 1807 1876 1808 1902 1897 1818 1821 1898 1786 1876 1813 Hving 1806 1888 1811 1894 1809 1889 1820 1904 1873 1798 1877 1809 1899 .... living JJorn. Died. 1800 1877 1814 1874 1820 1901 1820 .... 1825 .... 1803 1883 1818 1878 SoMK OF HliK LlFK KxiTiRIENCES. 303 Names. Arrived. McCrary, Matthew Sept. 1850 McCrary, Mrs Sept. 1850 Montgomery, Mrs. Fannie. . . .... Naylor, Thos. G Nov. 1843 Nowlen, Michael 1848 Nowlen, Nancy .... .... .... Owens, Thomas Oct. 1843 1808 1875 Olney, Cyrus Nov. 1839 Ohiey, Mrs Nov. 1839 Pease, David Sept. 1849 Pease, Mrs. Hannah Sept. 1849 Powers, Truman P Nov. 1846 Powers. Mrs. T. P Dec. 1846 Perry, W. T 1842 Parrish, J. L 1839 PhilUps, Miss 1839 Robinson, John 1844 Rogers, Moses July, 1850 Ross, Job W 1852 Ross, Mrs. Mary .... Raymond, W. W 1839 Smith, Solomon Oct. 1832 Stevens, Charles Oct. 1852 Shortess, Robert Nov. 1839 Trask, Eldrege 1842 Trask, Mrs. E 1842 Tuller, Jerry Very early .... .... Taylor, James 1844 1809 1894 Taylor, Mrs. Esther 1844 1823 1873 Taylor, Luke Very early .... .... Taylor, Lewis Very early .... .... Tibbitts, — ' 1848 Thompson, Rev. Lewis 1845 1809 1897 Thompson, Mrs .... .... .... Welch, James 1844 1816 1876 Welch, Mrs. Nancy 1844 1818 1894 Wirt, Andrew 1843 1817 1890 1811 1895 1809 1876 1811 1797 1878 304 Dr. Owens - Adair. a roseburg personal parody. 1858. In Roseburg town, of some renown, As fancy leads my song, A host of Sharpers now are found, Who push the trade along. Of Patriarchs and Prophets bold, Old Abraham we choose. To lead the goods safe through the Floed, With all the Dearborn Jezvs. When Weaver first his trade began, Old Vulcan forged the ore; Then Sutton was a little man, And never will grow Moore. The Parrot Sweet-\y sings its song; The Martin swift of wing; The Crane's an awkward, long-legged bird,- Of Fishers he's the king. When Sheridan, on Ganges' bank, With language true and bold, Lord Hastings' cruelties portrayed, And all his evils told, This same old Coon was in the town; His imp's a funny splinter ; He sports his "tokens," White and Brown, In Summers, and in Winter. When Morgan first the "grippe" exposed, By Chance, he left our main ; Another Party then A. Rose To try our Flint again. Though Hamilton was killed by Burr, His ghost is now in town ; While Marks and Green may both be seen. With Lenhair, Tarry round. vSoMR OK IllOK FjI'IC I'^X I'KRIENCES. 305 The city's guard, in every Ward, In alleys, streets and Lanes, With Ross, and Cole, and every soul But Pyle, and Jones, and Ilaynes, Will wonder all, both great and Small, And laugh as loud as may be ; And Hoover, too, will join the hue; — Lord, Fiske has found a baby ! But, come, my muse, and take a cruise, Let's drop our pen and laugh; And bid adieu to Jacob's crew, And Aaron's noisy calf. ' Then come, friend Coon, just start the tune, And "trot this through the press" ; Our thanks to you will then be due, — Yea, Moore than we Express. John Fitzhugh. EXPERIENCE AS A NURSE. 1859. In the pioneer days, when the professional nurse was un- known, every willing, capable woman received her training as a nurse from actual experience in her neighbors' homes, as well as in her own. Often no physician was in reach, and she was forced to depend alone on her own observation and common sense. Long before she studied medicine, Mrs. Owens had proved her great natural ability to care for the sick ; and her services were much sought after far and near. When she did accept remuneration, she received the best wages paid to any woman at that time. She was, on one occasion, employed by a farmer named Kelly, who lived two miles from Roseburg, to nurse his wife during confinement. The babe was born the day after 306 Dr. Owens - Adair. IMrs. Owens' arrival, and she was expected to take the whole charge of the house ; — doing the work of a trained nurse, in attending the mother and child day and night, besides caring' for the two older children, and her own four years old boy ; and doing all the housework and cooking for the family, which consisted of the man, wife, and three children, four hired men (as it was harvest time), and herself and little boy. She kept the infant with her nights, to allow the mother complete rest; was up at four every morning, after being kept awake by the baby, which always had to be fed at least twice in the night; and attended to the milk of ten cows, and made the butter from them ; kept the house clean and orderly ; did all the cooking for eleven persons ; and washing and ironing for six persons, fed the fowls, and carried all the wood she used up a flight of stairs. All this- she did faithfully and well, working hard every day and part of the night. The hired men received $2 per day, and rested on Sundays. When three weeks had passed, and the wife was able to< resume her duties, Mrs. Owens prepared to depart, and the farmer, running his hand down into liis pocket, asked how much she was going to charge. "Five dollars a week," she timidly answered, knowing that it was more than a woman's work was considered worth, but feehng that she had fully earned it. The man's face fell, and he surlily said, as he drew his hand empty from his pock- et, "I didn't expect to be asked to pay over three dollars a week, but if you will take it in an order on Heinerberg's- store, I will pay you five dollars." Lacking the courage to assert her rights, she unwillingly accepted the order, which she was obliged to exchange for the poorest quality of goods at the highest prices; — for in- stance, paying twenty-five cents per yard for calico, which we- now get for five cents. This experience had its part, among many similar ones,. Some of IIi;r I.ii-e Experiences. 307 in spurring'- her on to more determined efforts for frccrlom of action, and a better recoj^nilirjn pectmiarily and otlicr- wise, of her services and ablHty ; and helped to shape lier mind into more inde[)cn(lent channels of thought regarrling the status of woman, and her rights to equal compensation with man for equal work. The foregoing experience always rankled in her heart, and she said to herself : "The time will come when that man Kelly will be glad to acknowledge my superiority." For, though an ignorant foreigner, he had looked down on her, and treated her as a servant. That day did come. Many years later, when Dr. Owens, was at the zenith of her professional fame and success, she was one day on board the cars, going to the state capital on public business, in con- nection with the legislative session. A number of prominent gentlemen, who were her friends and fellow-passengers, had gathered about her seat, en- gaging in animated conversation when this man Kelly ap- proached, anxious to let it be seen that he also knew her. At first, after all those years, she did not recognize him ; and when he was obliged to recall himself to her, she received him politely, but, with his supercilious treatment of the past still unforgotten, she could not find it in her heart to be cordial, and he soon retired, disccomfited. The doctor then realized that Time does, sometimes, turn the tables, and brings compensation to those who have suffered undeservedly. The "wheel of fortune"' Jiad turned, and now she was up, and he was down, and she had made her prophecy come to pass, and she reflected upon how true it is that a nature that domineers over anyone in its power, is always ready to play the sycophant to those who are above it. 308 Dr. Owens - Adair. CHAPTER XXIV. A FEW VALENTINES RECEIVED BY THE DOCTOR OVER FORTY YEAES AGO. TO BETHENIA. 1860. My dearest, truest, kindest friend, Accept the little shrubs I send; Take them, then, as friendship's token, Warmer felt than can be spoken. A lasting emblem may they be Of friendship twixt myself and thee. The time has come ; adieu, adieu ! We part, perhaps forever ; But something binds myself to you That distance cannot sever. Oh, may grief or sorrow never Upon your spirit prey ; But may sweetest pleasures ever Be strewn along your way. Should all other friends discard you, And friendship's vows forget; There is one that still regards you, — •* Your faithful friend, G 1. VALENTINE. Though fate, my love, may bid us part, Our souls it cannot, shall not sever; The heart will seek its kindred heart, And cling to it as close as ever. St. Valentine's Day, 1868. HOPE. SoMK ()]■• lli:i< Lii'i': JCxi'kkiences. 309 FORGET THE PAST. Forget the past, with sadness fraught, Which Hke a fitful dream has fled ; Since all the cares and joys it brought Are numbered with the dead. Yes, gone its hours of peace and love ; Of misery, and dark despair. That taught the soul to look above These scenes of earthly care. What dark clouds have cast their shades Across the troubled path of life; They only have thy spirit made More mighty for the strife. Then let the past forgotten be, And to the future turn thine eyes. What seemed as evils unto thee Were blessings in disguise. And thou shalt find, in all thy woes, A hand that will assistance lend ; A breast on which thou canst repose; A never-failing friend. Dear Bethenia : There's pleasure in the lowliest lot With pure affection, undefiled; There's rapture in the poorest cot That boasts a little child. And teeming wealth, and lowly state. Without such buds, are desolate. Oh, let me share with thee thy joy; Thy heart, thy home, and darling boy. Roseburg, Or., Feb. 14, 1859. 310 Dr. Owens - Adair. Roseburg, February 14th, 1860. Mrs. B. Owens : I cannot tell thee, gentle friend, How oft my thoughts to thee are given. Nor yet how oft I pray that thou Mayst be the special care of Heaven. Thou wouldst not deem thyself forgot, Could'st thou but see this heart of mine ; And know how constantly it longs For the companionship of thine. And this may be your loving Valentine, A. B. O. M. Roseburg, Feb. 14th, 1860. She is modest, but not bashful ; Free and easy, but not bold ; Like an apple, ripe and mellow, — Not too young, and not too old. Half inviting, half repulsing; Now advancing, and now shy ; There is mischief in her dimple ; There is danger in her eye. She has studied human nature ; She is schooled in all its arts ; She has taken her diploma As the mistress of all hearts. She can tell the very moment When to sigh, and when to smile. True, a maiden's sometimes charming, But a widow all the while. SoAii": oi- lli'.K l>ri'i'; Ivxi'i'.Rfi^NCES. 311 Are you sad, how very serious Will her handsome face become. Are you anp^ry, she is wretched ; Lonely, friendless, tearful, dumb. Are you mirthful, how her laughter, Silver-sounding, will ring out; She can lure, and catch, and play you. As the angler does the trout. Your Faithful, Valentine. TO BETHEANY. I admit you are handsome, but still I should guess That others are handsome as you. I've heard you called charming, — but you must confess That all things we hear are not true. You think me the slave of your charms, — I'll allow That in graces but few are above you. Yet, charming and fair as I see you, I vow That, — I cannot deny it, — I love you ! I love thee, and I feel That in the fountain of my heart, a seal Is set, to keep its waters pure and bright, for thee! A VALENTINE. My fair, kind, true, and gentle friend, May God bless thee, is the wish I to thee send. Thy dear name will ever live in my heart ; May you ever enjoy plesaure, and from her never part. This is the wish from a friend that is true ; And thinks, dreams, lives, only for you. Roseburg, Feb. 14th, 1866. 312 Dr. Owens - Adair, to my true friend. Beautiful thou art ; and kind to me. Each thought of thine I feel and see. Time will tell what I speak is true. Heaven knows my thoughts are only of you. Even an unkind word from thee Never lets my rest be free. In Him above let's hope to be forgiven ; And I hope to call 3^ou my angel in Heaven. Roseburg, Oregon, Feb. 14th, 1867. TO BETHENIA A VALENTINE. Believe me, or believe me not, At other shrines I may not bow. The world itself may be forgot, But never, oh, but never thou. Though absent, I recall thy charms, And wish, as lovers, when they part, That I, hke them'd a thousand arms To press thee, to clasp thee, to my heart. There's not a pulse within my breast, But throbs and trembles to thy touch. Forget, ah, no ! the fear is best ; My heart, perhaps, might love o'er much. Thy very name each pulse alarms ; And oft, though vain, the wish would start That vine-like Fd a thousand arms To press thee, to clasp thee, to my heart. Some of IIiiK Life Experiences. 313 TO THE PHOTOGRAPH OF MY LFITLE FRIEND BERTHA. (Original.) Sweet image of my little pet, Thy presence here will ever be A source of pleasure — not regret; I welcome thee, I welcome thee. Thy sparkling eyes, and lovely face. And form, from imperfection free, Gives unto thee a heavenly grace ; I welcome thee, I welcome thee. Although thy spirit-form hath flown. And thou, alone, art left to me, Sweet semblance, thou art all my own; I welcome thee, I welcome thee. Come weal, come woe ! We'll never part ; United we shall ever be. Thy future home is near my heart; I welcome thee, I welcome thee. We'll cling together to the end. Whether it be on land or sea ; Sweet image of my little friend, I welcome thee, I welcome thee. December 17, 1865. 314 Dr. Owens - Adair. TO ANGIE. Alone here I sit, in deep meditation ; Every thought of my mind has flown far away. The birds sing so sweetly in yonder green bower; But none of these charms are attractive to me. Why do I love you, my pretty-eyed darling? Why do the flowers all look to the sun? Why do the lilies close up their sweet petals When all earth sleepeth, and daylight is done? Why do the stars, on the verge of the evening, Burn the more brilliant, the darker the night? Why do we see the most beauty in heaven When the day fadeth, and gone is the light? Ask not of all the secret things hidden; I may not answer, my darling, my own; Love ever comes to us free and unbidden ; Whither it comes from is just as unknown. Only "I love thee," my heart telleth to me; Wherefore I love thee, I know not, nor care. 'Tis not the charm of thy dark eyes so pretty, 'Tis not the hue of thy sunny brown hair. Why do I love thee, O lip of red ripeness? Why do I love thee, O heart of rare gold? Ask me no longer, my darling, my treasure; Love such as mine is can never be told. Just as untold as why the stars love thee ; Why shuts the lily-cup ; just as unknown — This is the all I may whisper thee, darling; Only "I love thee," my darling, my own. SoMic OF IIkr Life Expfriknces. 315 GOING AWAY TOMORROW. Darling Angie : "Going away tomorrow." Ah, darling, what lonely words! They hring a vision before me Of southward-flying birds ; Of falling leaves, and the patter* Of rain on the ghostly trees, From the gray skies of November, And what drearier things than these? "Going away tomorrow." You cannot comprehend The measure of loss and sorrow In these words for me, my friend. I shall miss your voice and footstep. And the light of your loving eye; And my lonely heart will be haunted By the sad, sad words : "Good bye." "Going away tomorrow." For you there'll be faces new. The strange skies bending o'er you Will have a charm for you. In the change that is all about you. Your homesick thoughts will flee ; But how in the land you go from? What a lonesome land for me. "Going away tomorrow." To the world beyond the hills. God give you the good things in it. And keep you from all ills. In my heart, that is warm and steadfast. Keeps a living thought of you ; And be sure I shall aye remember The darling I've told "Adieu." Composed and written by one far away, from the loveliest woman on earth, by the author, H. C. 316 Dr. Owens -Adair. The following letter so vividly and humorously describes the religious customs and ideas, and so pleasantly pic- tures the life of the settlers in those primitive days, that it is well worthy of preservation here. Mrs. Owens was, at this time, in San Francisco, learning the milliner's trade. Roseburg, Ore., Dec. 9, 1867. My Dearest Friend — I really feel sad to learn that you enjoyed such a rough journey, and being sick at the time it must have been a hard time for you. I hope you are all right ere this will reach you. I did not think that anything could induce you to return, but your flowers, but I see you don't even love them. I really don't know what would induce you now to return. I did think that you thought of your flowers more than anything else. Still, I live in hopes, for all men live so. I have many good things to inform you. First is, father joined the church last night. Also Isaac Jones and family. (Southern church.) Flem (Dr. Adair's brother) was baptized yesterday, in Stevens' creek ; also Bent. K. Bent, made a fool of himself by his actions. Ti. (also her brother) told me if I would give him 50 cents he would pitch him out of the house. He bawled like a calf. Part of the congregation left, in disgust. He pitched himself on his back, and lay there for half an hour, and bawled like a fool. Oh, I would give anything, most, if you had been there to witness it. After going down to the river, C, that sweet bird, was baptized. They came after Bent., and he refused to go in. Ti told him to either be baptized or leave the place; and, after a long talk, he was put under. (Would have been a good thing if be never came up.) Some of Her Life Experiences. .'517 Ti and father arc here, and many talking of church again tonight. I don't know what I can say to induce you to come home, unless it is that if you don't come shortly, the river will rise, and you can't get home. I hope this will find you in good health ; also Jane and babes. Excuse these mistakes, for Ti has troubled me so much trying to find out whether I am writing to you. I told him "No" half a dozen times. He assures me that the let- ter I received today is from you. I told him it was from Portland. He is also writing at the desk to Ann. Why don't you come home? From your ever true friend, A. M. P. S. — Do come. A REMINISCENCE OF WAR-TIME. During the first years of the war of the rebellion, Mr. Owens, senior, father of Dr. Owens-Adair, lived near Rose- burg, where a goodly proportion of the settlers were, like himself, southern born. Naturally, they sympathized with the South. There was strong feeling on both sides, but the Union men were in the majority. Som of the young Southern men, in their hot-blooded en- thusiasm, offered to furnish the silk, for a Confederate flag, to a young daughter of Mr. Owxns, if she would make it. The young girl, a mere child of twelve or thirteen years, — too young to realize the seriousness of the undertaking, — ac- cept the material, sewed the flag (quite a small one), and, climbing a tree in front of her home, hung it on a promi- nent branch. This was done unknown to her mother, and in the absence of her father, both of whom would not have permitted the unwise act, had they known of it. x\s soon as it was known that a Confederate flag was flying in front of ]Mr. Owens' house, threats were made by the young Union men to tear 318 Dr. Owens - Adair. it down, some of them using violent and abusive language. This was heard by a son of Mr. Owens, a youth of 18 or 19, who ran quickly home to warn his family. Mr. Owens, senior, was still absent from home, but Mrs. Owens, the plucky mother of the family, now first apprised of the existence of the flag, was not to be forced to obey the be- hest of an angry and insulting mob ; and she and her son, armed with guns, appeared on the front porch, where she coolly informed the irate crowd that the first one who dared to lay hands on that flag would be a dead man. They did not dare, and soon went their ways. The flag remained in its place unmolested until it was worn out by the elements. Dr. Owens-Adair, who at this time sympathized with her family, was of too just and broad a mind not to see both sides of the question and rise above the strong influences of childhood, hence she was later as loyal to the Union as any Northern citizen. SoMF, OF Her Life Experiences. 319 CHAPTER XXV. SCHOOL LIFE, 1862-3. As a student, Dr. Adair was always painstaking and thor- ough, but in the beginning, before her mind became trained to its later keenness, she required time to come to a solu- tion of abstruse subjects. Inded, all she has ever acquired has been by sheer determination and hard work. On one occasion, at a recitation in advanced grammar, there were several different analyses of a very complex sen- tence submitted by the young ladies and gentlemen of the class. Some brought no analysis at all, claiming that it was too difficult for them. But most of the class, — notably the young ladies, — had diagrammed, analyzed and parsed the sentence according to their understanding of it. Mrs. Owens had a well-defined solution, which she promptly put upon the black-board, and convinced all save one member of the class of its correctness. Miss A.'s an- alysis was different, and she, also, demonstrated her view of it at the board. The professor, however, decided in favor of Mrs. Owens' analysis, and the dissenting classmate said no more, though none the less convinced that her own rendering was the correct one. The next day Mrs. Owens announced decisively in the class that she had been thinking that sentence over and had seen her own error, and it was now clear to her that ■Miss A. was right in her construction, which Mrs. Owens pro- ceeded to clearly elucidate to the class. The professor (unlike Mrs. Owens), unwilling to acknowledge himself mistaken, merely remarked that "the sentence might be 320 Dr. Owens - Adair. construed either way," and dismissed the subject. Mrs. Owens, however, always stoutly maintained what was the fact, that there was but one correct analysis of the dis- puted sentence, — that of Miss A. This incident well illustrated a fine point in her character. Firm, unyielding, assertive, when consciously in the right, she was also prompt and frank in owning herself mis- taken when convinced of it, and always ready and anxious to do justice to her opponent. This broadness of spirit only from a character in which a sincere and intense love of, and desire for correct knowl- edge is the very foundation stone. Combined with her exceptional loyalty to her friends it is the solid basis on which some of the most enduring friendships of her life still rest unbroken, after forty to fifty years' duration. It is sometimes asserted that a lasting and disinterested friend- ship cannot exist between women, but her oldest and most faithful friends comprise quite as many women as men. With all her literary ability and varied authorship, the doctor frequently compares herself to Senator Conkling, who never could learn to spell even common words. Orthog- raphy has always been her bugbear, but she strives stead- ily to master it. An extract from a speech by Senator Mitchell, in Port- land, Oregon, in November, 1904, is so much to the point that it is inserted here : "Fellow Citizens : Fort3'-four years ago this month I made my first political speech in this city and state. That was the campaign in which the candidate of the Repub- lican party was the greatest American that has ever lived in this country since the days of Washington — the great liberator, Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois. That campaign resulted in his election, and for four years that great man conducted the ship of state through the rough storms of the civil war, which tested the strength and durability of every plank of the grand old ship. Some of Her Life Experiences. 'J21 "While I never had the [)U;asiirc of a personal acquaint- ance with Abraham Lincoln, I had the honor of sitting in the Senate for a period of five years beside that grand old statesman who, was his running mate, Hon. Hannibal Ham- lin, of Maine, and I shall never cease to be grateful for the many kindnesses shown me by him during the first yearg of my service in the Senate. When I first took my seat in the Senate I was given a seat in what was then called the 'Amen corner' of the Senate chamber. It was on the extreme left of the presiding officer, — the seat now occupied by my friend, Senator Nelson, of Minnesota. "But, before a year had expired, by reason of the death of Senator Buckingham, of Connecticut, I was transferred to a seat on the main aisle, directly in front of the presid- ing officer, — the seat now occupied by Senator Frye, when he is not presiding. Senator Hannibal Hamlin sat immedi- ately to my right and Senator Conkling immediately behind me. When I went over to take my seat Senator Hamlin took me cordially by the hand and said : 'Mitchell, I am glad for two reasons that you are coming over here to this seat.' "I thanked him and told him I would be glad to know the reasons he had for wishing me over there. " 'Well,' he said, 'In the first place, I think I will like you for a neighbor, and, in the second place, you must from this time on do Conkling's spelHng for him.' "I did not know what he meant, and on inquiry he said : "'Why, Conkling can't spell two words right; I have been doing his spelling for him for the last number of years ; I understand you are a good speller, and you must do it from this on, as you are a young man.' "I was very much astonished and puzzled by this state- ment, but it is safe to say that in the five years I occupied that seat Senator Conkling asked me how to spell at least five hundred words. 332 Dr. Owens - Adair. "Senator Conkling was a man who worte a great deal at his desk when not engaged in debate. "One day he leaned over and inquired of me how to spell wagon. I told him I should spell it 'w-a-g-o-n.' "He then said : " 'I shall immediately proceed to strike out one "g." ' "On another occasion he asked me how to spell 'Czar.' I inquired if he meant the Czar of Russia, and he said 'Yes.' " 'Well/ I said, 'generally it is spelled "Czar," and some- times "Tsar."' "He then said : " 'I shall at once proceed to prefix a "C." ' "He had spelled it 'Z-a-r.' "Now, ladies and gentlemen, I must not be understood as contending that because Senator Conkling was not a good speller that that is any reason why Mr. Parker should not be elected President, or even a reason why our candi- date should be. I only thought that before proceeding to the task before me it might be interesting for some of you to know that it sometimes so happens that some of our greatest statesmen are deficient in some of the simplest and most elementary principles of an education." SCHOOL CERTIFICATE. Astoria, Ore., March, 1863. I hereby certify that Bethenia Owens is of good moral character, and has passed an examination in the follow- ing branches, with the following result: Orthography 1 Reading 1 Writing 1 English Grammar 1 Mental Arithmetic 1 Some of Her Life Experiences. 323 Written Arithmetic 1 Algebra 2 Modern History 2 Teaching 2 This certificate is good for one quarter. Cyrus Olney^ Supt. Com. Schools. Astoria, Ore., May 1, 1864. A few of the doctor's early letters to her son. San Francisco, Cal., Feb. 7, 1868. My Darling Son — ^After waiting a long time for a letter from you I can wait no longer. Why have you not written to your mamma before, dear ? It has been about four weeks since I received a letter from my little boy; but I hope I shall get one tomorrow. Mary tells me you are getting along very nicely with your studies. Oh, how glad I am to hear of your success, darling! Only study hard, and you shall have every advantage. I know I shall be able to give you an accomplished education, and perhaps more ; and all the reward I ask is to see you a great and noble man. I know you will not disappoint your mother. I have too much confidence in my darling boy to ever think of such a thing. Georgie, I have a grand scheme in view for you, and if I succeed your fortune will be easily made. But I cannot tell you what it is now, dear. Wait till I come home. Now I will tell you something of what I have seen in the city. Well, the other day I went out to see the city gardens ; but, for fear you will not know what I mean by that, I will tell you. There are ten or twenty acres fenced in with a high- wall fence. We pay 25 cents to get in, then we are at lib- erty to go all over the grounds and see all there is to be seen, which is a great deal, I can tell you. There are two large towers where you can go up and see all over the city. S34 Dr. Owens - Adair. There are beautiful summer-houses, and all kinds of flowers and trees ; four or five fountains, filled with all kinds of fishes, a nice little lake, and fancy boats for ladies and gentlemen, and boys and girls to ride in when they like; all kinds of swings, where you may swing as much as you please. Then we come to the place where they keep innumerable animals and birds. Oh, how I wished you were here when we came to the cages of animals. I wish I could tell you all about them, but I cannot, it would take me too long. There are all species of bears, a monster grizzly bear, all sorts and sizes of monkeys, in fact, all the animals you could think of. But I must tell you about one large cage we saw called the "Happy Family." When I looked in, there lay, in one corner, the biggest hog I ever saw, and a coon curled up on top of his back; a skunk curled up in another corner, a coyote and a wolf walk- ing backward and forward, while a monkey was hang- ing on the bars, and two or three chickens and a badger picking around on the floor. Pussy sat up on a shelf, looking down very quietly, while a little black dog went strutting about and seemed to be king of the household. ' But, never mind, darling, when you come down to school you shall go out and see all. So now, good-bye, darling; write to me soon. From your affectionate mother, ■ B. A. Owens. This was written while I was learning the millinery trade, after which money was more easily earned. Roseburg, Ore., Nov. 13, 1870. My Dear George — ^I received yours of the 7th inst., yes- terday, and am sorry to say have been feeling very un- happy since. Do you ask why? Iwill tell you. Since your father has been to see you, and you have been going to the city every week, you have been neglecting not only me, but many things you ought strictly to attend to. In the SoiMii OK Hku Lifi', ExpitftiENCES. 325 fii'st place, all your letters have been short, writteil in a hurry, and always closed by saying you have not time to write. Now, how .can I feel over this, George ? Am I not toiling hard to make you a great man, and is this the way' for you to repay me? Do you know why you have no time to write longer letters to your mother? I will tell you, George. It is because you go to the city every Satur- day and do not get home till Sunday night, or Monday morning. You have not told me this, but I well know it is so; and by so doing you miss your church and Sun- day school. Is this right ? Do you not know that it is your duty to go to church and Sunday school ; And then I al- ways knew that between three and four o'clock, you were writing to nie, which was a greiat pleasure, indeed, to know that at least one hour in the week your thoughts were given entirely to your mother, and home. But, how is it now? When three o'clock comes, I think: Where is my child, and what is he doing? And it makes me very unhappy, indeed. Now, George, I do not wish to deprive your father of your society, but I do not wish you to neglect me, nor the privilege you now have of improving your mind, your morals, and your manners, and you cannot attend to all these and spend two days out of the week in the city. Now, what I wish to say is this : If your father wishes your society and desires to have you with him one day out of the week, I have no objection, so he goes after you on Friday evening and you return on Saturday even- ing; and then, if he wishes to be with you on Sunday, he must go to Oakland and go to church and Sunday school with you, for you must not remain in the city on Sunday; I forbid it ; and I know you have too much sense, — also too much respect for your mother, to disobey me. I have perfect confidence in }ou, and I know you love me too niuch to make me unhappy. Another thing: I was very much hurt to have you ask me to burn my letters. Why 326 Dr. Owens - Adair. should you wish to destroy your mother's letters, my child? Have you not a trunk with a lock and key to it? Can you not put all your little things in it and lock them up? I wish you to keep your things in neatness and order in your trunk; also, number all your letters, tie them all up neatly in packages, and lay them carefully away. This will be nice employment for you on Sunday, — to put your things all in order, and never leave them in confusion. And when you write, tell me what books you are reading ; how you are getting along in your studies ; how many years you think it will be before you can be admitted into the university, and write me long letters. Winter has set in here, and the streets are very muddy. Jake has to bring his beef into town in a cart. The courthouse is done and fenced in and looks very nice. Now, dear, I must say good-bye, and may God bless my darling, is the prayer of your affectionate Mother. P. S. — You can tell your father what I have said about your going to the city. Roseburg, Ore., Nov. 23, 1870. My Dear George — I hardly know how to begin this let- ter, I am so uneasy about you. I have had no letter from you for two weeks, and, though you were well when you last wrote, still I fear something must have happened to you. Two nights ago I dreamed of seeing you drowned. Night before last I dreamed I saw you killed by a snake, and last night I thought I saw you in such low company, with a big, long pipe in your mouth. Oh, I felt so bad, and I thought I begged you, for my sake, never to put a pipe in your mouth again, but you acted stubborn, and seemed to think it was so manly to do as you pleased. Some of Her Lite Experiences. 327 But at last I thought you said: "I can't promise to quit, but I will promise to try." You know, dear, I do not believe in dreams, and I am thankful I do not, for I sliould then be more unhappy than I am. I am so anxious about you that when I sleep you are in my mind, and I am sure to dream something hor- rible. Asher has not received an answer to his last letter, either, and he thinks you have forgotten him. November 24. My Darling Boy — Allie Brown came yesterday while I was writing, and I was so busy all day and till ten o'clock at night, that I could not get a moment to finish this. But, thanks to a kind Providence, your precious letter reached me this morning, and drove away all my unhappi- ness. I was so uneasy and excited last night that I decided to telegraph today, if I did not get a letter this morning, but it came, and my gloomy feelings, since I know my darling boy is well and loves his mother too well to make her unhappy. You will never regret, my darling, sacri- ficing that little pleasure for your mother. I know it is a sacrifice, and I know, too, that it is for your own good, as you will say yourself after awhile. I fear you have not enough bed-cover to keep you warm. If you still need more, go to the teacher and tell him to get you a pair of blankets and charge them to me. I sent a hundred dollar greenback to Mr. Geo. Tait to pay your school bill, which is $85.50. I told him to give you what is left for your own use. Well, dear, company has come in, and Asher is waiting. to post this, so now, my precious darling, good night, with many kisses from your affectionate Mother. 328 Dr. Owens - Adair. Roseburg, Ore., Nov. 27, 1870. My Dear George — Your welcome letter of the 20th inst, reached me yesterday. You do not know how much pleas- ure it affords me to hear from you, and to know you are happy and progressing so fast. I have never been so happy in all my life as now, and all because I have got such a good and dutiful son, who is willing to do anything his mother asks of him, and I know my darling will never regret obeying his mother, for what more, my child, have I to live for but you? Without you my life would be a burden. I am anxiously looking forward to the time when you will have finished your education and we can travel and see the world together. I know it must be pleasant down there. We have had but little rain this fall, but the hills are looking green, and the roads are muddy. Christmas will soon be here, and then I shall begin to count the days and weeks till I can start to see you. You would hardly know Roseburg now, it is so much improved. Dr. Hoover has built a drug store facing on Main street, and the Plaindealer an office, also. Frink's have painted and fitted up their dwelling house, and have been trying very hard to make that the main, or princi- pal, street. They have built two bridges out this side, and beyond the church, so the travel would come that way. So the property holders on this street have built a fine bridge up the other sides of Barnes', and put a nice rail- ing on it, and cut down the large tree in front of Joe Stevens', and have graveled the street nearly all the way from my house to the new bridge. So you see we do not have much mud on our street. They have moved the old courthouse back of Swan's old house. I can see it as I sii by the fire and write to you. I have had the walk made narrow in the back yard, and put in new plank, and the garden covered all over, about a foot deep, with manure. It looks splendid, and I guess it will pay me for Some of IIi:k Li if, Experiences, 329 the trouble. I wish you were here to see how nice it looks. I'>nt when I come down I will tell you all about it. Did I tell \<)ii that Annie and Alice Kent have opened a millinery store in Jacksonville? They bought all their goods from me — $300 worth. They are doing very well. I have a splendid business this fall ; if I had not, it would have gone pretty hard with me, for Mrs. Ralls ran the Oakland business in debt $200. But I must close, dear, as it is time to get ready for Sunday school. So good-bye, darling, with many kisses from Mamma. Roseburg, Ore., Dec. 3, 1870. My Dear Georgie — Your welcome letter of the 27th ult. reached me yesterday. It is such a relief to hear from you, and to know }ou are well and happy. You are very anxious to know just when I will start. I cannot tell you, exactly, now, but I think not before the last of February or the 1st of March, as I wish to be in the city the last of March to get the latest spring styles. I am so anxious to see you and clasp you in my arms and kiss your pre- cious lips ; but I must not neglect my business, for that would be neglecting you. and that I shall never do. And, as success depends upon strict application, I shall not leave one stone unturned, for I am determined to make my busi- ness here pay. I saw, a few days ago, that girls were going to be ad- mitted into the university. Is it true? I hope it may be, for I do not think the society of girls is any detriment to boys. I think it always has a tendency to refine and improve their morals. I should always rather you would associate with refined, intelligent girls than ordinary boys, for I am sure you would gain more high principles and fine feelings from them. We have not had any cold weather this winter yet, but considerable rain, and the roads are very muddy. The stages are running on long time now. I cannot think 330 Dr. Owens - Adair. of an item of news worth writing, everything is so dull here. So I will say good-bye to my darling for a few days, when I will write again. Mamma. Roseburg, Ore., Dec. 12, 1870. My Dear George — It has been more than a week since I had a letter from you, and I fear it will be a week more before I hear, for they say the snow is ten feet deep on Scott's mountain, and the stages have not been able to get over for several days. It rained perfect torrents nearly all last week. They decided to have a Christmas tree yes- terday. How I wish you could be here on Christmas eve. I know there will be no stocking hung up by little hands here, and no sweet voice to greet my ears with "Merry Christmas !" But I hope my boy will be happy, and rest assured that I will think and speak of my bright, black- eyed boy many times. Everybody asks of you often. But I must say good-bye, darling. I hope to see you soon. Mamma. Roseburg, Ore., Dec. 26, 1870. My Dear George — Christmas has passed, and New Years will soon be here. I hope you were happy and did not feel lonely among strangers. I was not very happy, for it made me feel sad to see all the children getting presents and my darling not here. And as I thought, "Perhaps he is feeling lonely and forgotten," the tears forced their way into my eyes, and I wept for my own darling boy. But I hope the time will soon be here when I can be with you a few weeks, or days, at least. I sent you five dollars in a letter, just a week ago, for a Christmas present. I hope it reached you in time. Now I suppose you would like to know what I got for Christmas presents. Well, a large, handsomely-bound volume of Shakespeare's works, a dress, a handkerchief, a handsome bead basket, and a beautiful cushion for the bureau. Some of Her Life Experiences. 331 We had about ten days of extremely cold weather, hut the day before Christmas it rained all night, and is very warm now. I did very well before Christmas, but I ex- pect it will be dull now, as there seems to be so little money in the country. But now, dear, I must close, so as to get this in the mail. I wish you a Happy New Year, and I hope I may hear that you are happy. So good-bye, darling. To George, from his affectionate Mother. Boston, Mass., May 18, 1874. My Dear George — I have been waiting in vain for three weeks for a letter from you. I have had only one from you since T left home. I expect you will be surprised to see I am in Boston, but I believe I wrote you that I thought of coming here to stay till the fall term of college com- mences, which will be in October. Well, I came here the first day of May and rented an office, advertised, and prepared for business. I begin to think the angels must have sent me here, for the next day after I advertised I got two patients, and they have been coming ever since. I have made ninety-five dollars and fifty cents, enough to pay all my expenses and get all my instruments and quite a little stock of medicine. Now, my darling, what do you think of that for your mamma ? They think here that I am an old practitioner from the Pacific Coast, and that, for off-hand, has a great charm for people over here. I believe I shall do splendidly ; but it keeps me studying, I assure you, for I study up every case, so as not to forget it, which will be of great benefit to me. I do not go out to practice, but do a strictly office business, so all my patients come to the office to be treated. Oh, George, you don't know how much nicer it is than selling goods, and working night and day; and it agrees with me, too. You would hardly know me, I am getting so fleshy, and looking 332 Dr. Owens - Adair. so much better. I like Boston so much better than T do Philadelphia. I know I shall not like to go back. How often I think of you, and wish 3'ou were here with me. It seems I am always looking for you in every boy I see. There are about one hundred boys in military dress who parade by here on the Common twice a week. When I hear the drum I run to the window and wish I could see my own dear boy among them. I think this is one of the best cities in the United States for a Avoman doctor, as there are about forty thousand more women than men here, and they are mostly working women, thousands of whom are afflicted, and the major part of them seem to prefer a woman doctor. Well, darling, another patient, so I must attend, to her, and ask you to excuse me for awhile. She is gone, and I will proceed. Poor girl, she has been doctoring for more than a year, without relief, and seeing my advertisement as coming from the Pacific Coast, she came to me. I understand her case, and feel confident I can cure her. She says if I can she can bring me four more new patients. I am well pleased with Boston. The people here seem to occupy a higher and broader plane than any I have seen. My darling, write to me often. I send you some of my cards. Mother. STORY OF GEORGE. 1870. Dr. Adair, then Mrs. Owens, lived at one time near where a house had been burned. Nothing remained of the place but the cellar, which was half filled with dry rubbish. The neighborhood children played about and in it, and one day they wantonly set it on fire. In a few moments the excavation was a seething caldron of flame. About that Some of Hek T.ife Experiences. 33.T time a boy two or three times as larg-c as little George Piill got into a fij^ht with him and tried to throw him into the fire; but George, who was a wiry, plucky little fellow, and active as a cat, succeeded in whipping the big fellow, finally tripping and throwing him down, but the big bully fell on top. Driven to extremity, little George seized his antag- onist's head by the hair with both hands, and, holding it down, bit his face and nose severely. The other boys, will- ing to see fair play, then turned them over, so the little boy was on top, where he punished the big bully till he howled for mercy, and the boys parted the combatants. George had on a long linen duster, and it and his face were covered with blood, making him a frightful looking object, though he was in no way injured. Catching sight of his mother's terrified face, as she saw him approaching, apparently half killed, he considerately called loudly to her: "I'm not hurt, mother! I'm not hurt!" thus relieving her worst fears before she could have time to assure herself of the fact by actual examination. Young as he was, he felt that he wished to spare his mother every possible min- ute of such agonizing anxiety, thus showing unusual sym- pathy for a boy-child. REMINISCENCES OF DR. ADAIR AND HER MOTHER^ MRS. THOMAS OWENS. 1904. I spent some time last month with my mother, Mrs. Thomas Owens, pioneer of 1843, at Seaside, Oregon's great summer resort. My mother is nearing her 87th mile-stone. We were in the )"ard one morning as the sun came up in all his glory. My mother said : "This reminds me of what I have not thought of for years. You and I had been riding all night in the stage, and the sun came up, just like this, and the 334 Dr. Owens - Adair. driver asked you to sing a song. You sang 'My Sailor Boy,' and I thought I never heard you sing anything so well ; and when you sang the chorus, 'Toral, lal, lal; toral, lal, lay,' the whole woods seemed to be full of echoes. The driver and passengers cheered and cheered you. Don't you re- member it?" No, I could not recall one word of it. She said : "Well, that is strange! It has been forty or forty-five years ago, but I can remember the first song I ever learned. It was composed by a preacher on his death-bed, and his wife used to sing it. My father was good to her, and when- ever she came to our house he would ask her to sing that song, and that's the way I learned it. That was about eighty years ago !" My mother had a remarkable memory, in her youth, and, even now, it is good for recent dates, con- sidering her age. In pioneer days singing was much in vogue. My mother had a sweet, soft voice, and could sing love songs by the hour. I will here give "My Sailor Boy" for the benefit of pioneer men and women, who, like myself, forty-five years ago, were full to overflowing with love and sentiment, which was ever ready to burst forth in song when opportunity offered. And for temperance people I will add a popular temperance song of fifty years ago, "The Brandy Seller," to the tune of "Old Dan Tucker" : MY SAILOR BOY. The morning stars are shining still ; The daylight peeps o'er the eastern hill ; There is not a bird so happy as I, When the sailor boy, my love, is nigh. CHORUS. Toral, lal, lal, toral, lal, lay. Toral, lal, lal, toral, lal, lay. Some of Her Life Experiences. 885 The sailor boy and his early bride Lay sleeping by the roaring tide ; We must part at the dawning of the day; The proud ship bears my loved love away. (Chorus.) Scarce six months since we were wed. Oh, how swift the time has fled! We must part at the dawning of the day; The proud ship bears my loved love away. (Chorus.) The sailor boy comes home no more To his weeping bride, on the ocean shore. The ship went down in the howling of the storm; The blue waves roll o'er his manly form. (Chorus.) Long years have passed ; he comes no more To his weeping bride, on the lonely shore. "My soul to God, my body in the sea; The big blue waves will roll over me." (Chorus.) the brandy seller. (Tune, "Old Dan Tucker.") Of all the crimes that ever have been. The selling of liquor is the greatest sin. It's caused more misery, pain and woe. Than any other crime I know. CHORUS. Get out of the w^ay, you brandy seller. You've ruined manv a noble fellow. '336 Dr. Owens - Adair. • You've taken shoes from women's feet, And bread which children need to eat; You've robbed them of their winter clothes, And left them naked, and most froze. (Chorus.) You've caused the children bitter cries ; And tears to stream from mothers' eyes. You've caused some children to cry for bread, And as they were hungry, sent to bed. (Chorus.) You've caused the father to hate the child; That almost set the mother wild ; • 'And in his drunken sprees at night. He's oft-times put them all to flight. (Chorus.) You've robbed the strong man of his strength; And brought him down in mud, full-length; And left him there to swear and roll, As though he had no soul. (Chorus.) You've robbed the rich man of his wealth; You've robbed the poor man of his health ; You've picked the pockets of the poor, And sent them to beg from door to door. (Chorus.) You've robbed the statesman of his brains ; And filled his head with aches and pains ; He's been, oft-times, in the gutter found. Feeling upward for the ground. (Chorus.) Some of Her Life Experiences. 337 You've crowned sonic mighty kinj^s with mud ; And stained some palaces with blood. You've, brought ■ some sightly cities low; And proved some nations' overthrow. (Chorus.) And now I tell you plain!}-, sir,. In your career you've gone too far. You've led so many men astray, You must account on the Judgment Day. CHORU.S. Get out of the way, you brandy seller ; You've ruined many a clever fellow. The following is the first song my mother, Mrs. Thomas Owens, ever learned. She was about seven years old at the time, which was over eighty years ago. She recalled it for me, verse for verse, in July, 1904. The song was composed by a minister on his dying bed, and his wife, from whom my mother learned it, used often to sing it. The time is swiftly rolling on When I must faint and die ; My body to the dust return, And there, forgotten, lie. Let persecution rage around, I'll unto Christ appear. My silent dust beneath the ground Shall no disturbance hear. Through cold and heat I oft-times went Through many a dangerous place, To call on sinners to repent And seek their Savior's face. 338 Dr. Owens -Adair. Here is my wife, my tender wife, My only bosom love ; The time was sweet with you I've spent, My gentle, harmless dove. Here are my babes, so near my heart, Kind Nature seems to bind; It grieves my spirit to depart And leave them all behind. Oh, Lord, a father to them be, And let them be Thine own. So they may learn to worship Thee, When they are left alone. You oftentimes have looked for me, And oftentimes seen me come; But now I must depart from you To my eternal home. Don't let this grieve your heart, my love, Don't let this grieve your heart. You'll quickly come to me, my love, Where we shall never part. Some of Her Life Experiences. 339 CHAPTER XXVH. MISS BARTON RETIRED. 1904. (Extract from The Daily Oregonian.) "The National Red Cross Society is at last to be re- organized, with Miss Barton left out. This is not as harsh a measure as it appears. An efficient factor in the work of the society for many years, she is no longer able, for rea- sons not one of which reflects discredit upon her, to longer manage the business affairs of a great organization. She has reached the limit of usefulness ; the limit fixed by nature. She is no longer young; is feeble in health, and frail in body. "Miss Barton is said to be a broken-hearted woman, chaf- ing in her age against what she conceives to be the ingrati- tude of those who insisted on her retirement from the presi- dency of the Red Cross Society." Such cases as this of Miss Barton certainly evoke pity, but it is a sort of pity from which self-respecting pride recoils. If we must retire, let it be from choice, and not under compulsion. The wise few learn this from keen observa- tion and voluntarily step aside from the midst of the stirring scenes of their arduous and worthy labors and successes, before their work begins to show signs of the inevitable effects of advancing age, instead of waiting until they are crowded out by those younger and more active, and more modern in their methods. And even when, as in the case of Dr. Adair, the health is not impaired and the individual has kept abreast of the age in advanced ideas, 340 Dr. Ow.ens - Adair. the enthusiasm and ambition of youth, which nothing else can replace, is gone, or going, and it is, as she says, the part of wisdom to recognize this and bow gracefully to the unchangeable law of Nature. For it is far better to leave one's bright public record unmarred by later deteriorated work. I say "public record," because the retiring from public life by no means neces- sitates relinquishing active endeavor in some pursuit, and many years of this may, and should, remain. It is decidedly pleasanter, as Dr. Adair further remarks, to be sought out in voluntary retirement and to find your services still in urgent request by the public, which is still loth to "lose" you, than to hold on and on, feeling your- self gradually but surely set aside in spite of your best efforts, and be subjected to ill-natured criticism by young upstarts who know far less than you do. Some seem unconscious of their failing mental powers^ while acknowledging and taking pleasure in describing their physical disabilities. But the trained mind of a pro- fessional man or woman ought not to be so dull or blind as to fail to notice in itself what is so obvious to it and to all in others. Such, if not too blinded by self-esteem, perceive even be- fore others discover it the first indications of their own de- cadence, and prepare to shape their remaining years in accordance. It need not cause unhappiness to themselves or others. The transition can be so gracefully and gradually made as to be only pleasantly perceptible. We all know a few de- lightful and lovable old people, whose lives are a comfort and a blessing to all about them, and we can make them and their lovely, unselfish characters ours, by God's help, if we will. SOMK ()!• 'I li:i< l>IIK ICXI-I'IKIKNCES. 31] October, 1905. In pursuance of the above views, Dr. Adair has retired from an active and lucrative practice, in her sixty-sixth year, with the purpose of dcvotinj^ the remainder of her life to literary pursuits, free from the weighty sense of re- sponsibility attendint;- the knowlcdi^e that life and death are constantly de])cndin_q' on one, which is the inevitable accompaniment of the conscientious practice of medicine, even more than of any other profession. CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION OF THE DISCOVERY OF THE COLUMBIA RIVER. The celebration, on May 11, 13, and 13, 1893, of the one hundredth anniversary of the discovery of the third largest river in the world by Captain Robert Gray was fitly held in Astoria (the second city in size in the state, though the first in point of establishment), situated at the mouth of that noble and historic stream. Its citizens rose with just pride to the occasion, and pre- pared to receive and entertain with due honor the distin- guished guests they had invited from far and near. Pro- fessor John Fiske, of Boston, Captain Gray's home city, who had consented to deliver the centennial address, was the first guest of honor, but there were many other emi- nent persons present. The managing committee appoint- ed a committee of prominent ladies of Astoria and vicinity to assist them in entertaining and to take charge of the great banquet, which was to be one of the principal fea- tures. Citizens threw open the doors of their homes and w'armly welcomed friends and strangers to their hospitality. Rou- tine business was for the time laid aside, while all Astoria gave itself heartily to the entertainment of its guests. The battleships Baltimore and Charleston were in at- tendance, and as such warships were not so common with 342 Dr. Owens - Adair. • us then as now they were the "cynosure of all eyes." Gaily decorated with bunting, they were constantly crowded with delighted visitors, who were received with unremitting po- liteness and patience by their officers and men, who kindly and pleasantly answered the questions of the thronging groups of eager people. At night the scene was even more beautiful and brilliant under the strong, swiftly-moving searchlights — the first ever seen in that vicinity — with the countless lesser lights gleaming on every other craft. One unique feature was a night race between the fishing boats, several hundred of which took part in it, everyone bearing a bright light at its masthead. The long, sinuous procession on the soft, dark stretch of water looked like a great, waving, swaying chain of glittering jewels, and was indeed a charming spectacle. The ladies took an active part in their departments. Dr. Adair was first appointed chairman of the ladies' manag- ing committee, but as she did not reside in the city, she de- clined in favor of Mrs. Samuel Elmore, and took the chair- manship of the committee on serving and preparing the grand public banquet. This banquet proved to be the un- qualified success that was assured when Dr. Adair took command, as she always makes a success of whatever busi- ness she undertakes ; and no one better understands, not only what to provide for a large banquet, but how to mar- shal the forces necessary to bring it successfully to pass — • as the sequel proved, for the guests universally declared that never had they sat down to a finer dinner. Dr. Adair first called together the ladies, whom she had carefully selected, and notified of their appointment as her assistants on the banquet committee. vVt this meeting she outlined the work and appointed sub-committees on each separate department, with all necessary instructions and powers, and, inspired by her own enthusiasm and energy, Some of Her Life Experiences. 343 they all went to work with a will to carry out her orders, and did their part so well under the efficient chief that the guests who sat down, five hundred at a time, at the long, snow-white, flower-decked tables in the immense, hand- somely decorated hall, vied with each other in praise of the appetizing result. Dr. Adair and her adjutants had decided that as Astoria is a fishing town, all kinds of fish and curstaceans, must be served. The ladies to have charge of the five tables, one to each, were chosen by lot, that there might be no sus- picion of partiality, and these ladies chose their young lady assitants, who were thoroughly drilled in their duties beforehand. At each end of the long tables was served an immense Royal Chinook salmon, smoking hot from the oven, ac- companied b}'^ hot creamed potatoes and all the appropriate accessories. The various canneries contributed these salmon, which weighed from sixty to eighty pounds each, and as no range-ovens or pans large enough to contain them were to be had, roasting pans were made to order, and the salmon were roasted in baker's ovens, and from thence taken directly to the tables and served in the pans in which they were cooked. It is a literal fact that no fish on earth compares in de- licious 'flavor and richness (to say nothing of size) with the salmon, and the Chinook salmon are as far beyond all other salmon, as they are beyond all other fish. These royal specimens of the king of fish were done to a turn, and many were the ecstatic encomiums showered upon them by the guests from abroad. Other fish, shell-fish of all varieties, including oysters, clams, and crabs, in their native shells, with every other dainty of the season and vicinity, appeared on that bountifully-furnished board, the bivalves, especially, prepared in such delicious ways as the dwellers contiguous to their native home best understand, 844 . Dr. Owens - Adair. and rarely is seen assembled so rare, so happy and well sat- isfied a company of diners as partook of them. The sturdy pioneers were there, attended by the younger generation, who delighted to do them honor. Stories and reminiscences were recounted, and experience compared with experience by the white-haired, but still active and genial, founders of this wonderful Northwest. The entire celebratign was most successfully carried out, and has been the means of fixing one of the most important events in our history more clearl}'- and firmly in the minds and mem- ories of the rising generation, and of adding cheer and honor and pleasure to the last days of the revered pioneers, whose work, begun and long carried on in toil and hard- ship, is ending, even in their own day, in peace, plenty and renown. POEM ON THE FIRST TRIP OF THE A. & C. R. R. TO PORTLAND. Astoria, Ore., May, 1898. This day we'll take a backward glance To contemplate the great advance Which has been made in every line Since white men came, in forty-nine. Upon this very ground once stood The Indian, with his dusky brood. He hunted elk among these hills ; He fished for trout a-down these rills. Instead of steamboats, as today. His light canoe sailed on this bay. His wigwam smoke we see no more ; He has passed away to the other shore. The Pioneer of early days Deserves our love, deserves our praise. He steered the bark across the main; He brought the wagon o'er the plain. Some of Hkk Lifk JCxi-kkfences. 345 He took a claim, and made a clearing Where seldom neighbor was in hearing. He built the cabin, ploughed the field. And iiKidc the earth her fruits to yield. When Uncle Sam gave each a section, He thought he'd struck it to perfection. Instead of little clearings, now We see broad acres for the plow. Instead of cabins cheap and small, There now are dwellings, large and tall. Anon, the towns began to grow, Although, at first, most awful slow. A store and inn you first would see; And saloons, maybe two or three; — Pity such things should ever be — But soon a church would there appear, And then a schoolhouse somewhere near. They said, "Our children must have learning. While we our bread and clothes are earning." The mill and shop all came, in time; And prison walls, to cover crime. As, step by step, these things have come, The pioneers are, one by one. Dropping aside, to give place To some' newcomer in the race. We honor those who yet are here. And for the dead we shed a tear. S. T. McKEANi^vr 346 Dr. Owens - Adair. roosevelt. He is ours : With reverent love and pride we claim him ; God made him for us, and to us He gave This manliest of all the manly men who name him Braver than any brave. The waves of mad Ambition, and Greed of gold, supplanted, Surge round him ; — dash against him, shock on shock ! Steadfast he stands, unswerving and undaunted, On Duty's moveless rock. Above the clash, and clamor, and contention That vex our ears, and louder, far, than all, The rasping tones of malice, and dissension, We hear his clarion call. He speaks ! and " 'Tis such sense" our sense with his is mated ; They meet, and mingle, and the two are one. We feel our deepest, holiest wishes consummated, When his sane will is done. "We must be men, decent. God-fearing, honest; No more, no less, will manhood's measure fill." We feel the master-spirit move upon us With deep, responsive thrill ! The wondering nations gaze, with quickened vision, On him, who, 'neath the Western flag, unfurled, Faces, with fearless front, and calm decision, A vexed, tumultuous world. Let them look, and lean and listen, and learn the lofty lesson Our mighty "man of valor" lives, in thought, and word and deed. While the scorned "Commercial Spirit" stretches out both hands in blessing Filled full with help and hope, for all who need. We stand by him ! We will not have another, — A strange hand, on the helm, for woe, and not for weal. Millions are calling, brother unto brother, "He must not leave the wheel!" Inez E. Parker. Some of Her Life Experiences. 347 CHAPTER XXVHI. NOMINATION OF THE FIRST WOMAN COUNTY SCHOOL SUPER- INTENDENT IN OREGON, IN MULTNOMAH COUNTY. ("Oregonian.") "There was silence for a minute or two, when this order of business was announced. Teal whispered to a friend near him, 'Who is a good woman for the office?' 'Miss Sabin; smartest teacher in town (Portland) ; ought to be city superintendent.' Teal then placed in nomination Miss Ella C. Sabin, principal of the North School. O'Hara asked whether the election of a woman to the office would be legal, and if so, he would be glad to work and vote for the lady. Fenton was called upon to answer. He stated that he was present in Judge Deady's office several days ago, when Mrs. Dr. Owens-Adair called and propounded the same question. Without reflection, several lawyers present were of the opin- ion that a woman could not hold the office, because she was not an elector. Continued Mr. Fenton : 'The question has never been passed upon by the courts, but if Miss Sabin will allow us we will elect her and Gault will not contest it. If he does I will volunteer my services to defend our candidate's title to the office.' (Applause.) "O'Hara asked : 'Is Miss Sabin a Democrat ?' "Teal responded that he was not able to say, but he could say she was a remarkably bright educator, and was possessed of splendid executive ability, and that was suffi- cient to entitle her to the honor. "Miss Sabin was nominated by acclamation, amid gen- uine applause." 348 Dr. t)wENS- Adai^' ^:" '^ OFFICE LIFE. 1882 and 1905. The ofBce life of a physician is, from one point of view, a series of stories, sad, dramatic, amusing, — sometimes all three in one, — and their graphic recital would, in itself, make an interesting volume. This is especially so in the case of Dr. Adair, with her strong" convictions and antipathies and vigorous expression of the same. . One day in 1882 she had just dismissed a patient at the outer door of her consulting room and passed through the inner door to her office, where she found a number of pa- tients, in waiting, besides two young men with bills to col- lect, one of whom was Mr. Willis Duniway, with a bill for advertising. He sat quietly awaiting his turn, while the other stood puffing a cigar^ and, without removing it from his mouth, he pompously announced : 'T have a bill to collect." Before replying Dr. Owens threw a window wide open, and then, turning toward him, commanded incisively : "Take that cigar out of your mouth. I do not allow smoking in my reception-room. Do you not see that there are ladies present?" The fellow hastily threw his cigar out of the window, and, in a more subdued tone, repeated that he had a "bill to collect." "Well," said the doctor, "you can come in tomorrow and collect it." The young man departed, and she then turned to Mr. Duniway, whose refined, gentlemanly manner was in re- freshing contrast to the boorish behavior of the other col- lector, and said pleasantly : "Mr. Duniway, have you a bill?" "Yes, madam, for advertising," he replied, and she con- tinued : Some of Her Life Experiences. 840 ■' '"I shall take pleasure in paying you now," which she proceeded to do. She always paid her bills promptly at the first of every month, and only deferred settling with the first collector to more thoroughly impress upon him a badly needed les- son in deportment. -The patients in the office were all smiling, jjlcased to observe the difference in the behavior of the two men, and the special treatment each received from the doctor. 'A ring at the door. Enter a stranger. "Madam, I want to show you a fine line of toy balloons I am selling." Dr. Adair: "I have no use for toy balloons; if you will go down street to Dr. Hill's office, you may sell him one. He is my baby. He is only forty-nine years old." , Exit toy-balloon man, in a dazed condition. CORRESPONDENCE. Tn the course of her long, active, and varied experience, Dr. Adair has enjoyed the close friendship of many promi- nent persons, some of whose letters are of public, as well pis private, interest, and are worthy of permanent preser- vation, — and really form a part of her life-history. They are, therefore, incorporated in this volume, together with such of her own replies as seemed relevant and character- istic. LETTER FROM HON. TILMON FORD. Salem, Ore., Oct. 29, A. D. ISrS. Mrs. B. A. Owens, W. C. T., Roseburg Lodge, L O. of G. T. Dear Friend and Sister — I promised to write to you last Friday, but have been unexpectedly and unavoidably so very busy that I positively have not had time to do so until now. Yours in regard to commission is also duly at hand. Your secretary was ri^ht in sending" the recommendation 350 Dr. Owens - Adair. to Bro. James A. Smith, G. Sec, as I have signed com- missions in blank, and placed them in his hands, with in- structions to fill them out in accordance with recommenda- tions from subordinate lodges. I did this so that our Grand Secretary would be placed in direct communication with all Lodge Deputies in the state. I am well pleased to learn that Flem. is now Bro. Owens, and that he is to be your Lodge Deputy. I have just writ- ten to the G. W. Sec. to send forward the commission im- mediately, and if he has not already done so, it will reach you by Friday evening. Your Lodge Deputy lives at Oakland, or at least I found him there when I was out in August. It would be well to extend him an invitation to be pres- ent at your installation ceremonies. I would like to com- ply with your very kind invitation and be present myself,- but business prevents. Our circuit court meets here next month, and I am inter- ested as attorney in several cases that will require my per- sonal attention, from now on, till it adjourns. Shall start on a visiting tour to the respective lodges along the line of the railroad about the last of November or the first of December, and shall probably be at your lodge by the middle of December, and I shall expect (judging from your letter) to find it in a very prosperous condition. Now, don't let me be disappointed in this regard. Am truly sorry to hear that Bro. S. — has gone back to his cups again. I had hopes that he would stand firm in the great temperance reform.- Please write me the particulars of his case. Also give me a full account of 3'our public installation, and the continued prosperity of your noble little lodge, which I as- sure you will be read with interest by me. With best wishes for the success of your public installa- tion and the continued prosperity of your noble little lodge, I am yours in F. H. and C., Tilmon Ford. P. S. — I sent you two constitutions ; did you receive them ? Some of Her Life Experiences. 351 early history of oregon. Rev. J. L. Parrish, who is familiar with the early history of Oregon, sends the following for publication : The first white child born in Oregon was the son of the late Jason Lee, superintendent of the Oregon Methodist Mission — born in June, 1838. The second white child born in the Willamette Valley was the son of the late Alanson Beers, — born in September, 1838. The third white child born in the Willamette Valley, was the son of the late Dr. E. White, — born in 1838. The fourth white child born in the Willamette Valley was the daughter of the late Silas Shepherd, — born in 1838. The fifth white child born in the Willamette Valley was the daughter of the late David Leslie, at what is now the town of Wheatland, in Yamhill County. She is now liv- ing in Salem. The sixth white child born in the Willamette Valley was the daughter of the late Dr. E. White,— born in 1839. The seventh white child born in the Willamette Valley was a daughter of the late Hamilton Campbell — 1840. The eighth white child born in the Willamette Valley was a daughter of the late Rev. Leslie, at Wheatland, Yam- hill County— August, 1840. The ninth white child born in the Willamette Valley was a daughter of the late Rev. Jason Lee, of the Oregon Mis- sion — February, 1841. She is now the wife of Prof. F. Grubbs. My reason for penning the above is the mistake in your notice of the death of our excellent and worthy friend, Mrs. Crawford, in the Oregonian of the 23d inst., as to her being the mother of the first white child born in Yamhill County. You will observe from the above that Mr. Leslie had two daughters born at what is now called Wheatland, in Yam- hill County, before Mrs. Crawford was in Oregon. Mr. Leslie and his wife were from Massachusetts. 352 Dr. Owens -Adair. mrs. michell, the clatsop. Portland, Ore., March 6. To the Editor : In an editorial in the Oregonian of February 27 last you refer to the age of Mrs. Michell, a Clatsop Indian woman, "The last of the Clatsops," who lives near Seaside, and whose age is said to be 103 years. Her name is not Michell. Her Indian name is Tsin-is-tum. Her mother's name was Wah-ne-ask. When Tsin-is-tum came to a marriageable age she mar- ried Wah-tat-kum, who died in 1860. Later on she married one Michell Martineau, a Canadian-Frenchman. Wah-tat- kum, her first husband, was the last chief of the Nehalem tribe. Her last husband was always spoken of and called "Mi-chell," so she is called Mrs. Michell. Her "Boston" name is Jennie — Jennie Michell. It is a singular fact that the Pacific Coast Indians never have but one name, and that name is never handed down from "the- father or mother to the offspring, but ceases to exist when its owner dies. Each Indian was given his particular name, which had no relation or resemblance to that of either his father or mother. Among the Indians it was considered improper, or irreverent, to ever mention the names of the dead. You were quite right in doubting that she had reached the age of 103 years. In May, 1900, I went with a committee of the Oregon Historical Society, to Fort Clatsop, Lewis and Clark's headquarters in 1805 and 1806, to show therri its location. From there we went to Clatsop beach, to see the location of their salt works, which had then been re- cently discovered. We had Mrs. M'ichell brought there to identify the place. In a conversation between the late L. B. Cox, one of the committee, and Mrs. Michell (the late Silas B. Smith act- ing as interpreter), Mrs. Michell identified the place, which Some of Her Iaie Experiences. 353 licr mother liad often shown her as the place where Lewis anrl Clark made salt. Her nKJthcr knew Lewis and Clark, and had seen their men at work there. In the same eonversation slie said she remembered when Dr. MeLoui^lilin l)ombarded the Indian village at the mouth of the Colnmhia River, in 1829, saying that she was only a liUle girl, and that her father was killed in that bom- bardment. If she was nine years old in 1829, she would now be 83 years old. At the time of the conversation above referred to, Silas B. Smith, who was of half-Indian blood, and had known her all his life, said she was about 80 years old. If she was a "little girl" in 1839, she could not now possibly be 103 years old. Mrs. Michell, Sel-i-kee, and a Clatsop woman living at Bay Center, Wash., who is a grand-daughter of Twilch, an old Indian whom I used to know, and who remembered Lewis and Clark, are all of the full-blood Clatsop Indians now living. The tribe is practically extinct. Few Indians ever lived to be as old as Tsin-is-tum. P. W. Gillette. GOVERNORS OF OREGON. Dr. Adair was personally acquainted with fifteen of the Governors of the State of Oregon, namely : Governors Thurston, Gaines, Lane, Whiteaker, Curry, Slater, Gibbs, Woods, Grover, Lord, Thayer, Chadwick, Moody and Geer. Eight of these Governors, Gaines, Lane. Grover, Woods, Gibbs, Moody, Chadwick and Thayer, were her warm per- sonal friends. Governor Gaines had purchased a home on Clatsop plains in her childhood, which her brother-in-law, John Hobson, bought of him after the sudden and shocking death of INIrs. Gaines, on Julv 4, 1852 or 1853. 354 Dr. Owens - Adair. The child, Bethenia Owens, was an eye witness of the fatal accident. Mrs. Gaines and the Governor were on horseback, riding beside a wagon containing people on the way to the neigh- boring celebration. In passing a narrow place in the road Mrs. Gaines attempted to fall back and let the wagon pass first, and her horse backed in between the heels of the team and the wagon to which they were attached, and she was thrown violently upon the tongue of the wagon. As the frightened horses began to run it was several minutes before she could be extricated, when it was found that her skull was crushed. She was carried to the nearest house;, where she soon expired without regaining conscious- ness. Governor Gaines was a gentleman of the old school, pos- sessing a high sense of honor and an estimable character, without a stain upon his record. During his administration Dr. Adair was but a mere child, but she well remembers his stately figure and courtly manners. Portland, Ore., July, 1882. Mrs. B. A. Owens, M. D. Portland, Oregon. Dear Doctor — ^At the annual meeting of the Oregon State Medical Society, held June, 1882, six subjects were chosen for discussion at the next annual meeting. It being my duty to appoint one person to each subject, I wish to know if you will prepare a paper on retarded dentition, said article to be prepared, ready for publication, by the next annual meeting. The subject, author, together with the day and hour when the paper will be read, will appear upon a program furnished to each member, not less than ten days before the annual meeting in 1883, as well as in the daily papers at the time. As it is expected these papers will attract Some of Hkk Lii'k Experiences. 355 much attention, it is hoped you will be present to read the same. Please answer immediately, so that the proper men- tion can 1)0 made in the transactions of this year. Hoping you will accept this honorable office, I remain respectfully yours, Curtis C. Strong, President O. S. M. S. 225 West Park Street, Portland, Oregon. Astoria, Ore., June 9, 1893. My Dear Children, One and All — So today you are on the swift eastward express. I know you are all happy, and tl at brings much satisfaction to us. Colonel has just left w'.th Oscar for the front — Colonel for town and Oscar to cut and trim for firewood. The opening is gradually widening. Monday and Tuesday we put in all the turnips and garden seeds. Wednesday forenoon I finished up be- hind the cottage. Had forty nice hills made just behind the house, where the ground was low ; set out all the to- matoes, squashes, cucumbers, etc., as it was drizzling. In the afternoon John and I went with Colonel and Oscar to the front, and they cut down six or eight trees. Yester- day Charlie and I finished hoeing the carrots on the hill, so you see we are all well up with our work, and I intend to keep it up, if possible. The pioneers are to have a picnic tomorrow, at the end of the Bay R. R. If it is nice we w'ill go, so John will have a glimpse of the world. We received Mattie's letter last night, and it was a real treat. Colonel read it Avhile I was getting supper, and then re-read it after we went to bed. We laughed over the reference to Solie. "How like her," I said. "It is really too foolish for anyone to take offense at, or be angry with anything she says or does, she is so silly." So they were all delighted with 3-our going, as well as with your style? Mattie, did you tell them that 3'ou were 356 Dr. Owens - Adair. to he the lady correspondent of the Astorian? Well, it is drizzling, as usual, and the glass stands at 1.29. Not very bright for tomorrow's picnic. Excuse pot-hooks, for I am writing with John in my arms. Bless his little heart, he sticks to his mamma like a leech, now that we are alone. He is in love with Victor's little bed. He goes to it at night, when we go. Last night we were looking over letters from the drawers, and I came across that doll that I intended to exchange. Oh, he was so delighted with it ! This morning he came out while we were at breakfast, and took me by the hand, and led me to the secretary and showed me to open the drawer, saying : "Dol-la." He had not forgotten where it came from. So my Victor-boy has been a gentleman? What good news for his grandma! We know he can be a gentleman if he tries, and he will make us all happy by try- ing every day. I want his new grandma and his uncles and aunties to be pleased with our boy. God bless his sweet young life, is my prayer always. We received a nice, long letter from Mr. Monroe. He is to visit us the first of July. He and his wife sent messages to Mattie and Victor. Mattie forgot to put in the clippings, for which I am sorry. We can see a little colt by Juno, but have had no time to go down. Charley has just finished sweeping and washing the floors. He is doing nicely, and is getting almost over his cough and is looking well. LETTER OF DR. ADAIR TO JANE WEEDEN. Sunnymead Farm, Ore., Feb. 9, 1894. My Dear Friend, Miss Weeden^ — We received your kind and beautiful letter in due course of mail. How full of sen- timent and sympathy it was, — just like your own dear self. We are so glad to hear from you ! And the Millers ; so they and their little ones are in Chicago? Had I known it I certain!}^ should have gone to see them. I cannot say how sorry I was not to have seen and talked with you. .SOMIC ()|- I Ilk' Llll', [VXI'I'.UII'.NCES. '557 I calk'cl at llic VV. C. T. U. lu-adfiuartcrs several times, trying to fuid your whereabouts, but could fnid no trace of you. When I met you I was going to lunch with an old college classmate, formerly a Dr. Henderson, whom I had just met. How lit lie I thought then that a great sorrow was so near mc. 1 had enjoyed the morning exercises so much, and now that I had found two dear old friends I was perfectly happy, and looked forward with such pleasure to the literary feast that was awaiting me. For twelve years I had been hoping to be able to attend a National Convention, and now I was there in attendance on the greatest W. C. T. U. convention in the world. But you know the rest ; that day of happiness only was mine. The news of dear Mattie's death came, and I left for home the next day. What a long, sorrowful trip it was. And then to meet poor, dear Colonel with our two boys, Victor, aged 8 years, and John Adair, Jr., 27 months. Yes, we have two beau- tiful, bright boys. Mattie died after a very brief illness. Inflammation of the bowels, the doctor in attendance pronounced it; but, as she had not complained for over forty-eight hours, I think perhaps there was a blood-clot. But whatever the cause might have been, it took her away from us. I have pre- pared a brief sketch of her short life, which will be pub- lished in the Oregon White Ribboner, perhaps this month. When it comes I will send you a copy. Well, my dear old friend, we are here on the farm, some- what isolated, but not lonely, with plenty of reading matter and plenty of work to keep us busy. We have several head of horses, cattle, sheep, and hogs. The young ones are coming in all the year, which requires care, and gives us an interest in life. Our boys, too, afford us much pleasure, as well as care. We have a comfortable home. How I wish vou could come and make me a lonsf 358 Dr. Owens - Adair. visit. The pure air and fresh farm cooking would give you a new lease of life. I hardly think you would recognize the place, we have made such a change. We are surround- ed by flowers and beautiful shrubs. How poor Mattie did love our home, and she took so much pleasure working among the flowers. Her sister came down and spent a week with us and we set out many roots and bulbs on her grave, — flowers of her choice. Mattie and Victor, my grandson, went to the World's Fair with Dr. Hill and his wife. They went the first of June. Mattie was gone six weeks, and was delighted with her trip. She boarded with Mrs. Johnson — our old W. C. T. U. Mrs. Johnson — of Portland. You will remember her, she used to conduct the singing. This has been a long, tedious winter, but we have had excellent health. I have not had so much as a cold. Colonel and the boys had colds for a few days only. We have had no cold weather as yet. Indications are for an early spring. Do you think of coming to Oregon again? How time flies ! I am 54 years old. I am strong and have excellent health. I think the country life agrees with me. How are the Millers succeeding financially? I think they would have done better in Oregon. So your head- quarters are in the Temple? What a beautiful structure. Mrs. Hosford and I attended service in "Willard's Hall," and saw Mrs. Carse, who had charge of the meeting. Well, my dear friend, it is growing late, and I must say good night, with kind regards to the Millers and much love for yourself. Colonel joins me in kind regards. Remember, your letters are always welcome visitors. Very sincerely your friend. Dr. Owens-Adair, My baby, John, is carrying the bag of pop-corn around, begging me to pop some. You see, the children are cele- brating my birthday with pop-corn, raisins and candy. Some oi- IIicu Liii: Experiences. 359 naukow ksratf, of victor from drowning. While living' at Sunnyniead, Colonel and Dr. Adair, with their grandson, Victor Hill, then between four and five years old, went on one occasion to visit Professor Lyman, at his ranch at the south end of Cullaby Lake, Clatsop Plains. Near the western shore of this lake is a small island named, like the lake, for Cullaby, an old Indian chief who had lived upon it in the days of Dr. Adair's childhood, when her parents lived not a great distance from the lake. Fine cranberries grew on this island, which she and her mother used to gather, and the Doctor, who had not visited the spot in years, desired to see it once more. Mr. Lyman, therefore, volunteered to take her and Victor in his boat across the lake, stopping at the island on the way, while Colonel Adair went around by the road with the team, and they were to meet him at the north end of the lake, which was about two miles and a half long. Mrs. Stafford, a near neighbor of Mr, Lyman, also accompanied the party in the boat. The shores of the lake are plentifully and broadly fringed with pond-lilies, and seeing some particu- larly fine ones in one spot, A^ictor begged to be allowed to gather them, so Mr. Lyman backed the boat up within reach of the coveted blossoms. Dr. Adair was sitting in the stern, with one arm around the child, who leaned for- ward and grasped a lily firmly by its strong, thick stem, and Mr. Lyman then sent the boat forward, thinking to aid in breaking the stem, but it was too strong, and somehow, in the excitement of the moment, Victor fell out of the boat into the water. The Doctor screamed in terror, for the impetus of the boat had carried it some distance from the sinking child, but Air. Lyman backed the boat toward him as fast as he could (being a cripple), and ]\Irs. Stafford, with good judgment and admirable presence of mind, seized 360 Dr. Owens -Adair. an oar and assisted ably, so that they reached Victor just as he was disappearing, and Dr. Adair caught his clothes and succeeded in pulling him into the boat. Though she retained control of herself sufficiently to act promptly and efficiently at the time, the Doctor was so unnerved and agi- tated afterward that she could not sleep for the three nights following. It was some time after this occurrence before they saw Mr. Lyman again, but the moment Victor set eyes on him, as he was approaching their house, he exclaimed : "Grandma ' Grandma ! Here is the man coming that saved me.'' CuUaby Lake is very deep and the water in it is always cold. Besides, the place where the child fell in was full of a net-work of the tough roots and stems of the pond- lilies, making it doubly dangerous, as a person sinking there is almost sure to be caught and so entangled as never to come to the surface again. Nothing but the most prompt and speedy action saved the life of the child on this occa- sion, and he never forgot the experience and the manner of his rescue. He was still in dresses, and his skirts probably kept him afloat longer than he would otherwise have re- maiued on the surface. A few years later Dr. A.dair and family, with Mrs. But- teriield and family, spent the day fishing in the Necanicum Creek, near the Seaside House. AVhile preparing, toward night, to return home, Victor wished to go back to the bridge alone after a certain beloved stick which had been left be- hind. The Doctor said, "No, you must stay with Mrs. Biit- terfield and her children till we are ready to start." A short time later she missed the boy, and said, "Where is Victor?" "Why," said Mrs. Butterfield, "he was here just a minute ago; he wanted to go to the bridge (a high one), but I told him to stay with the children and not go near the water." Wild with apprehension. Dr. Adair rushed down to the bridge and beheld Victor, who was now in pants, coming up Some of ITf.r T.rFK I'^.xi'fkikxcfs. :u;1 out of the water tlirough the bushes hiiint^ tlic b<'ink of the creek, dripping wet from head to feet. In spite of all orders to the contrary he had returned to the bridge and tumbled ofif it into the middle of the creek and walked out on the bottom through waver over his head! Being exceedingly active in mind and body, and correspond- ingly enterprising, he could disappear in a second, so it was imj ossible to keep him constantly in sight, and he was al- ways having hair-breadth escapes. The Doctor declares she sufTered a thousand deaths in the course of the time he was with them ; yet he always seemed to bear a charmed life, and always turned up unharmed and smiling at her, to him, groundless fears, saying: "What's the matter, Grandma? What's the matter? I'm all right. Nothing is the matter with me." 362 Dr. Owens - Adair. CHAPTER XXIX. AUTHORSHIP. Not only has Dr. Adair delivered many public addresses on hygienic and other subjects germane to her profession, and also most of the living issues of the day, but she has used her pen ably in the same varied lines^ her ari"icles rarely, if ever, finding a place in the editor's waste-basket, for the reason that she always writes upon timely and vital themes in a vigorous, trenchant style, with great earnest- ness, and directly to the point in hand. Being unusually public-spirited, with great pride in and love for her country, and possessing a warm interest in the individual as well as the public welfare, combined with a sound and practical judgment in practical affairs, what she writes is sure to be interesting reading to the general pub- lic, and consequently finds acceptance with the editor. But for the ceaseless demands of a large and successful medical practice which has fully occupied her time for thirty years past, and the additional care of a home and family during the last twenty years, Dr. Adair would doubt- less have written some valuable books from her wide ex- perience, extended opportunities for acquiring the latest scientific knowledge, and her own ripened judgment. Fortunately, however, one's generation is, of the two, often more benefited by an earnest, industrious, conscien- tious and continuous practice of correct knowledge and elevating ideas than by their written promulgation. But that both have had a worthy part in the life of^his ex- ceptional woman is conclusively shown in the productions that follow, regular order of their writing, from 18T1 onward, begin- They are here presented, as nearly as practicable, in the ning with Mrs. Owens' first efforts for publication: Some of Her Life Experiences. 363 tiif following are the first articles i evi:'< wrote for publication. — date, 1870. Editor Pantagraph — I beg- leave to ask the Plaindcaler, through your columns, a few plain questions. Now, Mr. Plaindcaler, T am in earnest and want a candid answer. I am a reader of your paper and have been known as a re- liable democrat all my life, and I believe it to be the duty of every voter to know whom and what he is supporting, and I ask how you stand on prohibition. I, with hundreds of others, have a right and demand to know. Any politi- cian can see that prohibition is to be the next issue, and you must be for or against ; there is no half-way place for you to stand upon. The Pantagraph has come boldly to the front and declared herself ready for the fight, and where are you, I would ask, with your chivalric disposi- tion? Why have you not buckled on your armor "and thrown your banner to the breeze. We have given you ample time, and now we demand to know the cause that holds you bade. Now is the time for you to strike in order to retain the favor of those already your friends, and gain the respect of your enemies. You have repeatedly been heard to say aou were an enemy of rum, but you must re- member the tree is judged by the fruit is bears. Therefore I warn }ou that the ground on which you stand is shaky. Let us hear from you. Editor Plaindcaler — In your issue of February 28 you said to "that inquisitive person'' who asked you a plain question that you were not averse to giving your views on prohibition, providing the question was asked by a respon- sible person, through your own columns. Now, this is where the interesting act comes in, for "now you see'' (in the language of General Lish), that knowing you to be a strong anti-suft'rager, and I, poor thing, a "f-e-m-a-1-e," I knew you would not consider me a responsible person, — 364 Dr. Owens - Adair. and would quietly proceed to light 3'ou pipe with my good intentions, and then nobody would have ever known that The Plaindealer was edited by a temperance man. But why did you not answer the pointed questions asked by second correspondent? By the by, the Pantagraph made a mistake in saying "Glad to see it" was written by same correspondent. Correspondent number two is really a vot- er, Mr. Plaindealer, and to my certain knowledge has cast his vote for you more than once. I, being a woman, and like most women having tasted the bitter fruits of intem- perance, more keenly feel the necessity of securing a strict prohibitory liquor law enacted to protect our fathers, hus- bands, brothers, and sons, who have not within themselves the power of self-protection against this fell destroyer. You, and all others, know that many of the best and great- est of our nation have gone down to graves of disgrace and degradation from the influence of rum. Then why in the name of all that is good and pure, in your organiza- tion, do you not come forward and join hands with the temperance party in this great struggle for life and free- dom? Why not each week sweeten the dispositions and strengthen the doubting hearts of hundreds of your read- ers by a lively article on temperance and prohibition, which you are so capable of writing? Friends with sincere hearts would flock about you ; old men with whitened locks would give your hand a hearty shake of encouragement ; fond mothers would look upon their promising sons and with tearful eyes would rise up and call you blessed. Think, think well upon this great subject, and let the soft whisperings of conscience decide for you, is the wish of your "friend of temperance." SojVIK (iI- IIkK l.IFK ivXI'KklKNCES. .'5f!5 THE INFLUENCE OF A CORD OF WOOD, 1870. Dear New Northwest — A gentleman of this place some months since laughed in my face when I asked him to sub- scribe for the woman suffrage paper. Shortly afterward he attended Miss Anthony's lecture. The next day he met me and asked if we women dealt in wood ; if so, he would give a cord of wood for a subscription to the New North- west. I accepted the challenge, and before morning his name was on the way to your office. I am happy to say that he not only receives the paper, but reads it, and then, like a true and faithful public servant, reads it to his neighbors, that it may make other converts. This week he surprised me by presenting a petition for a road, aslcing me, — a woman, — to sign it. This proves the power of The New Northwest in converting its readers to the belief in individual rights. Three months ago he wouldn't have thought of asking a woman's name to such a petition. If all men who now profess themselves opposed to the movement would read and investigate, rather than sneer and scorn it, the}^ would let reason rule them, and would speed- ily espouse the cause of justice. All that we ask; all that we entreat, is that our cause shall be investigated, analyzed, sifted, and if it be not the true metal, of solid principle, let it burn, like dross. The right of suffrage is an inalienable right, withheld wrongfully from Avoman by her brother, man. No human being who will reasonably and conscientiously investigate this prin- ciple will fail to become a convert to it. The other day a motherly, generous-hearted, pure-mind- ed, but simple, old lady said to me : "You are not in favor of women voting, are you?'' "Yes, indeed, I am," I said. She raised her hands in holy horror. "Oh, no. no, you can- 366 Dr. Owens - Adair. not mean it!" "Indeed," I answered, "there is not another principle in the wide world I so dearly cherish, for there is no other power that can be compared with the power of the ballot." The good old lady sighed and her eyes filled with tears. "Well, well," she answered, "I know nothing about this woman's movement; but I am bitterly opposed to it." If she would only give a cord of wood for The New Northwest she would soon learn better than to be opposed to truth and justice. In conclusion I add that the cord of wood which one sub- scriber in Roseburg has already given for The New North- west will prove worth its weight in gold in making many new converts, and should any other persons in this com- munity want to pay their subscriptions in wood I am ready to cash their orders. CO-EDUCATION. (Professor McLean was the last of the faculty of Ann Arbor Medical University to consent to receiving women students, but as it was a state institution the faculty could not entirely control the matter. When women were admit- ted Professor McLean positively refused to lecture before a mixed class. Being, however, an eminently intelligent and broad-minded man by nature as well as by attainment, he was soon convinced that women were an advantage rather than a detriment to the school, and he was magnanimous enough to frankly and publicly admit it.) A LETTER FROM PROFESSOR m'lEAN. 1879. To the Editor of The Daily News : Sir — As a teacher in a school which provides special facil- ities for female students, and more especially as a teacher in, and an abiding friend of, the Kingston Medical School, Some of Hkr Liik ICxperiences. '.'>('>7 I ask you to grant me the privilege of saying, through your esteemed cohimns, a few words to your Storrington corre- spondent, who signs himself, "A Graduate of Queen's." If that correspondent (who evidently considers himself a gentleman, a scholar, and a judge of "ladies") will divest himself for a few days of his thick covering of conceit and prejudice, and, leaving it behind him in Storrington, will make a pilgrimage to this large and respectable university, I will confidently promise him that he will hear and see and learn many things not hitherto dreamed of in his philos- ophy. Unless he is farther gone in either ignorance or preju- dice than his letter would indicate (and that is bad enough, in all conscience), I believe that we can send him home to his rural retreat wishing, in the bitterness of his remorse, that a kind Providence had visited him with a felon on each finger of his right hand, so that he might have been prevented from writing such a libelous letter. If he will only come here I am confident that we can con- vince him that not merely ladies, but, what is even better, women, — true, noble-hearted and pure-minded women, — do actually seek, and obtain, admission to the medical profes- sion. He makes the broad statement that no lad}- seeks admis- sion to the medical profession. We will show him, if he has eyes to see, that he might just as well have said that no lady seeks admission to a dry goods store, or a church. Your correspondent defies Professor Grant or any other man to point to a single instance in which the love of the study of science, or the desire to benefit the human race, has been the main object in prompting females to study medi- cine, and he adds : "It is simph' a morbid curiosity." I accept this challenge, and I say to "A Graduate of Queen's," come up here, sir, and we will make vou hide vour head for xevv shame that 368 Dr. Owens - Adair. you have allowed yourself to exhibit so much ignorance and unfairness. Come here, my poor, benighted fellow ; you have been too long confined to the solitudes of Storrington; come here and see and judge for yourself. We will admit you to the class-rooms, the dissecting-rooms, and the hospi- tal wards, where our female students are at work. We will allow you to converse with them, and to observe them closely, and when you have done so I am very sure that 3^ou will return to your home an humbler and a wiser man. Before leaving, however, we will give you an opportunity of studying the records of former female graduates, from which I should hope and expect that even you would be able to extract some useful information. Then 3^ou will assuredly have your ideas of ladies in gen- eral, and medical ladies in particular, completely modified, and I venture to believe, greatly elevated and purified. Per- haps it ma}^ not be improper for me to give you some hints in advance of what you will find in these archives. You will fimd, I must admit, here and there a record of prema- ture death from overwork. In what sphere of woman's life are such records wanting? You will find, also, I must admit, here and there a record of failure in the practical work of the profession. Is there, I ask, anything peculiar in this? On the other hand, you will find a record of many brilliant examinations passed by female graduates. You will find a record of much splendid work performed since graduation, in the capacity of physicians to female prisons and reformatories, orphans' homes, and female lunatic asylums, and in private practice; and, above all. you will find a record of even nobler work performed by graduates of those schools, who have gone to India, Japan, China, and elsewhere, in the capacity of medical missionaries, either alone or with their husbands. "All very fine," you will say; "but what of the other side SoMli Ol'' lll.K Liiic ICxPliRIKNCrCS. '.WJ of the account? Have you no records of such impurities as I so broadly hinted at in my decidedly prurient letter?" I answer most unequivocally: "No, sir, not a single one." Two or three intermarriages have occurred between our male and female students in the seven years I have been here, but never a breath of scandal of any kind has been recorded, so far, in the history of the university. Your reference to Mary Walker would have some price if there were no disreputable characters among male physi- cians ; as it is, it only serves to illustrate the inherent weak- ness and absurdity of your position. In conclusion, sir, permit me to inform you that "the world moves," and I, for one, am heartily rejoiced to see that my old friends and colleagues of the Kingston school propose to move with it; and I am very sure that in so good and just and wise a step as that they now propose to take, they are not likely to be stopped by a "fly on the wheel," even though it should take the august form of "A Graduate of Queen's." I am yours truly, Donald McLean, University of Michigan. Ann Arbor, Nov. 11, 1880. Mr. Editor — I cannot permit this opportunity to pass without adding a word of praise to Professor iNTcLean for publishing the able and manly sentiments contained in the foregoing letter. And when I consider the prejudice against women who seek medical knowledge, I desire to give ex- pression to the cordial thanks of students of this university to this eminent gentleman for his handsome rebuke of a person who anonymously and wantonly attacks the motives and characters of female medical students. The high pro- fessional and social standing of Professor ^IcLean makes this letter one of great importance. He was a student of the celebrated Professor Syme, a graduate of Edinburgh. 370 Dr. Owens - Adair. A Scotchman by birth, he is always kind and attentive to students under his charge, and is consequently beloved by them. As a surgeon, he takes rank among the most skillful of his profession ; as a gentleman, his influence extends be- yond the wide range of his professional work ; and as a citi- zen, he labors to promote the best interests of society. This letter of Professor McLean is not the property of the uni- versity, exclusively, but of mankind generally. "He that causes noble impulses to dwell where prejudice has had sway, lives for the benefit of his race, and his acts become treasures to be highly prized." How fortunate it is for woman that prejudice and slander are not conclusive against her character. Whenever she steps forward and modestly claims to be heard in the ad- vancing studies of science, she is quite apt to be rudely told that her influence in educational matters is pernicious, and her character about to be injured if she persists in her ef- fort. And why? Because by this course she asserts in theory and principle what the world should accord her in practice. We believe woman should have a knowledge of the science of medicine. She is the natural nurse and physician of the family, and is endowed with a desire to know more and more of those principles which are essen- tial to the happiness and usefulness of her sex. In her endeavors to become learned and useful in any science, especially the medical, she keenly feels how greatly this prejudice adds to the sacrifices she must make to at- tain the desired position. Still she pushes onward and up- ward, and by a life of rectitude and professional success convinces the multitude that she, though a woman, and because she is a woman, is doubly entitled to praise and honor. No gentleman will seek to make a club of this noble ef- fort of woman to become broadly educated, by which to knock her down. Some of Hick ]ai'E Ex pkk fences. .S71 It is the moral coward only who will' resort to the de- famation of the character of woman and accuse her of base purposes in her heroic struggle to honor her sex bv acquir- ing scholarly attainments. The world is moving on, and the purer and higher im- pulses and ambitions of our nature are not to be destroyed by the club of the vindictive, nor the forked tongue of the slanderer, but they are, and are to be, more and more treas- ured and encouraged by those who love virtue and knowl- edge, and realize what a powerful shield they are against crime. Intellectual discipline of the mind of woman makes her more rigidly careful of her conduct and less liable to err, even as an experiment. It is quite different with men. In fact, education in the sciences makes conscientiousness the leading element in the character of woman, and her honor and her marked individuality become her citadel of strength. After all, how true it is that the fame of the gift- ed and the noble often derives added luster from their struggle with prejudice and slander. The career of a professional woman is an ever-present proof of this. Indeed, such a woman is the architect of her own good fortune. From the very nature of herself and her surroundings she can rely on no man for assistance, and must succeed by her own personal work. A man may succeed by the help of honorable influences, without which he would be a clear failure. But the moment a woman seeks advancement through the influence of per- sonal channels she is made the mark of poisoned arrows. It is by her own intrinsic worth and persistent persever- ance that she secures a position in any profession. How aptly is this illustrated by the true story of Georgian- na. Duchess of Devonshire, in her energetic effort to elect Mr. Fox, the leader of the whigs, over his opponent, Sir Cecil Wrag. Both were candidates for a seat in parliament 372 Dr. Owens - Adair. ill 1784. Mr. Fox was in the minority, but this woman of extraordinary beauty and the highest mental accompHsh- ments became interested in the contest and took the field for Mr. Fox. She went from house to house soHciting- votes. She ap- peared at the hustings with Mr. Fox. She was denounced by the opponents of Mr. Fox, in the ministry, and merciless- ly ridiculed. Ludicrous sketches were circulated concern- ing her, some of which were vile indeed. She was derided as a woman of the people ; but, notwithstanding all this, she moved on, and gained more and more heart in her cause every day. The result was that Mr. Fox was elected by a large ma- jority. In all this opposition to this remarkable woman they could not prove the slightest stain on her character. This same spirit exists today against woman, if she seeks to elevate herself to positions of honor and usefulness in the professions, and there are many who are ready to com- mit the forbidden sin of bearing false witness against her motives and character. B. A. Owens. SoMi: <»!■ Ili'jv' l,iii'; lv\ i'i;ii- lli.K Lii'i': Kxi'KKiKxcics. 375 encd quite an interest in her subject, 'WfJivKin as a Physi- cian.' "It is spoken of hy the press generally as possessing great merit. "The lady deserves this i)raise. Such addresses do much to wipe out the prejudice that usually surrounds the 'woman question,' and leaves it open to fair and rational criticism. Many will admire it the more to know that it is from an Oregonian, as well as from a student." SKATING AS AN EXERCISE. Portland, Ore., Jan. 10, 1882. To the Editor — I am very much surprised, and I deeply regret to see what I consider very unkind and ungenerous remarks about the skating-rink in the last issue of a Sun- day paper. I, with many others, welcomed the establishment of a skating rink in Portland, believing that it would prove a blessing in many ways to our young peopde, more especially to our girls, whose delicate health, in the great majority of cases, depends upon the want of proper physical exercise, which fact is well known to every physician. I hold that it is the physician's duty to prevent, as well as mitigate and cure disease. It has been said, and truly, of the American woman, that her nervous system is developed at the expense of the phys- ical. We have but to look about us to see a host of delicate young ladies, whose loving mothers have taught them the art of plying the needle and thread to the extent that every sofa-cushion and foot-stool in the house is ornamented with cats, dogs, birds, or flowers. But if any one of these young ladies were required to walk briskly a mile and a half she would be sure to have an attack of neuralgia, or perhaps a "nervous chill." 3iG Dr. Owens - Adair. The doctor comes and prescribes a nerve tonic, a bottle of smelling salts, and absolute rest for a week. This is fashionable, but is it right? Here is a great principle in- volved, and it is clearly the physician's duty to protect, to streng'hten, and to improve the health and vigor of the human race. A strong, healthy brain must be supported and nourished by a sound, healthy body. I have been consulted by a number of my patients as to the propriety of skating. I have said to all my delicate, nervous and hysterical patients, "Go to the skating rink, by all means, and skate enough to at least start perspiration ; it will give tonicity to your muscles, and enable you to sleep without the aid of chloral." I have dropped in sev- eral times to witness the skating, and I am pleased to say that I saw no improper behavior. I was pleased to witness the interest manifested on the part of the skaters to excel. I was gratified to note the large number of spectators, es- pecially the ladies, who are among the best families of Port- land, and who, I understand, go regularly to the rink with their children. I believe a few accidents have happened, in the way of bruises and a fractured bone or two, but acci- dents must happen in all vocations in life, and this is no argument against skating. A short time ago a scientific Englishman said to me: "I am a widower with two children; I should like very much to get married, but I am not wealthy, and I cannot afford to marry a 'doctor's bill.' Your American women are intel- lectual and fascinating, but among the higher classes it is almost impossible to find one physically well developed. And I believe it the duty of every man, in selecting a wife, to look forward to raising a healthy and vigorous family." Often, as I have stood watching the skaters, especially the little girls from eight to twelve years old, and seen their happy faces glow with delight as they vied with each other in the race, I have thought that could these girls continue Some ok IIi;r Life Exprrtences. .'577 to clcvclo[) their muscles till they reach womanhood, as do our boys, my Enp^lish friend would not be in such fear of marrying a "doctor's bill." This recalls to mind the advice given to a class of young doctors by an old and much honored professor. He said : "Young men, . there are two things which every young doctor needs on starting out in life. First, a wife ; second, a microscope. And now, let me admonish you to be care- ful in the selection of a wife. Do not select one from among that class of dainty girls who are always making cats and dogs in worsted. I can think of but one advantage you would have in marrying one of these 'killing creatures,' and that is, you would always have at least otie patient, and by and by you will have a houseful of the same sort, which you will find will be all you can manage. Take my advice, and marry a girl physically well developed ; one who can dance, skate, ride horseback, and do all kinds of sensible things. '"Indeed, I believe there is no girl that makes so good a wife as what is known as the old-fashioned 'Tom-boy,' who is always ready for a romp. She can run from the base- ment to the garret, and slide to the bottom on the bannis- ters. Young man, if you get this girl for a wife, you need give yourself no uneasiness about buttonless shirts, etc., and you can always count on a good, hot breakfast to greet you after a long night's watch, and there Avill be no sore-eyed poodle dogs with pink or blue ribbons on their necks to re- ceive the first attention. " In conclusion I will say, as regards ]\Ir. Walton, that he is a quiet, industrious young man. All that need be said in his favor is that he labors for the support of his invalid and Avidowed mother, and he deserves the patronage of a respectable community. Dr. Owens. 378 Dr. Owens - Adair. story of a girl whom dr. owens rescued. 1882. One Sunday evening between nine and ten o'clock the office bell was rung by a fine-looking young man, who de- sired the Doctor's attendance upon a sick person, "What address?" inquired the Doctor, and he replied: "I will go there with you." In a few minutes they were on their way, and as they approached the vicinity of Third and Taylor streets, which was then the center of the demi-monde in Portland, Oregon, he asked : "Do you object to visiting an inmate of a house of ill- fame?" "No," said Dr. Owens, "1 never refuse to visit any suffer- ing person who desires and needs help. I will go and do all I can for her." They now entered a building opposite the Taylor Street Ml. E. Church, and found themselves in a brilliantly-lighted hall. The handsomely furnished parlors were also alight, and groups of beautifully dressed women were standing about, smilingly receiving the men who were thronging in. Music and gaiety prevailed, and everything had the appear- ance of an evening reception in any private residence. The young man led the way up the stairs, where they were met by several women, who asked "Is this the doctor ?" and took the medicine case from the young man, who said to the doctor : 'T will await you here and accompany you home." She was then shown into a room where a pale^ pretty girl of fifteen lay in bed, very ill, suffering with a severe attack of peritonitis. Questioning the child, for she was but a child, as to how she came there, she freely told her story, — how her widowed mother in San Francisco had re-married, and how her (the daughter's) home was made unhappy, so that she felt compelled to support herself. How, in the Some of Her Life Experiences. 379 search for work she met a kind ( ?) woman, who promised her and another girl friend pleasant work and better wages if they would go with her to Portland, Oregon. Unsus- pecting, they accompanied her, and on arriving they found themselves inmates of a house of ill-fame, friendless in a strange city, and compelled to live a life of shame, only three weeks of which sufficed to bring her to this pitiable con- dition. Dr. Owens had the girl removed to a comfortable room near her, where she could be under her immediate personal care and treatment. She also interested some of the Chris- tian women of Portland in the case, and Mrs. Hurgren later received the young girl into her home until she should be able to be sent back to her mother. Public interest was thus aroused and enlisted, and plans formed looking toward establishing a Refuge Home for similar unfortunate women who desired to reform. Sub- scriptions were made aggregating a considerable sum, and one, Rev. , especially interested himself in se- curing subscriptions, taking good care to collect his own per cent for this work. Only $40 more than that was col- lected, as most of the promises of money were made con- tingent upon the carrying out of the proposed plans of building, which did not materialize. This $40 was deposited in the bank by Dr. Owens, who eventually, some years later, paid it over, with the accrued interest, amounting to some $10, to the management of the W. C. T. U. Refuge Home, — now the Florence Crittenton Home, Portland, Oregon. This was, in fact, the nucleus fund in the foundation of that most beneficent institution. As soon as the poor girl was able to make the trip a passage was secured for her and she was placed aboard the San Francisco steamer. On board were a number of benevo- lent passengers. Colonel John McCraken among them, who, besides rendering the child every kind attention, raised quite 380 Dr. Owens - Adair. a s.uni of money which they presented to her on her arrival in San Francisco. As the trip had been extremely rough, and she had been very seasick, in addition to her weakness from her previous illness, they sent her home in a carriage. She lingered a few weeks, dying finally at home among her relatives. The clipping appended below gives additional particulars. Dr. Adair was always a loyal and powerful champion of her own sex, and no evil surroundings or fear of public opinion ever deterred her from rescuing her erring and suf- fering sisters. A W^ORK OF CHARITY CARRIED FAITHFULLY TO THE VERGE OF JORDAN. The young woman who was rescued from a house of ill- repute in this city by Mrs. Dr. Owens and others, two months or more ago, was taken to San Francisco, where her parents reside, on the "Queen of the Pacific," which sailed on the 3d inst. The girl's name has been kept secret in order that she might have all the chances possible for reforming. Her trip down was very severe, and she was very sick. Pas- sengers aboard paid her special attention, and tried to make her voyage as comfortable as could be. When she reached the home of her mother she was so low as to be in a dying condition, and the prospects for her recovery, according to a late private letter, are ver}^ meager. She expressed herself as happy and glad to be back at her home, where she could die among her own people, if it was her fate to die. The charitable ladies and gentlemen who took this case in hand have done all they could and accomplished more than was expected of them. By kindness they induced the girl to leave the life that would result in her death in a short time, allowing her all the while to choose for herself, and when she finally made up her mind they threw around Some ov TIkr Lii'I': Exi'Muiknces. .'iHl her all the safet;iiarfls possible. A physician and medicines were furnished, and a good home provided, and last of all, money was raised to send her home. The girl has ex- pressed her gratitude to her benefactors, which was the only re-paymcnt she could make, and which is ample enough, and it now remains to know whether she will pass over the river, the brink of which she has now reached. The drummer who made such professions of svmpathy for her and who, in the beginning, acted as if he meant what he said, has not been heard from since he left here. HABIT IN FORMING CHARACTER. 1885. Mcthinks I hear someone say : What has habit to do with heredity and health? Well, we shall see. And, to begin with an illustration, I must confess that there is one habit which has grown to be almost universal among the officers of the W. C. T. U. It is this : That each sister believes that her particular department should receive more attention, and is of vastly more importance to the life and health of our great organization than that of any other of the thirty-nine special departments of our work. I do not claim to be an exception to the general rule, and it shall be my purpose in this paper to show as well as I can, the great extent and importance of the influences for both good and evil depending upon habit, which, after all. is one of the prime factors in heredity and hygiene. Too little at- tention has heretofore been given to this all-important sub- ject. You may ask, What is habit? Habit is the result of an internal, inherent principle that leads us to do easily, nat- urally, and often involuntarih". what we do often. Habit maj' be inherited, or acquired. It may grow and develop througfh nurture and cultivation, until it becomes the con- 382 Dr. Owens - Adair. trolling law and consuming power of our whole being. The study and observance of this most wonderful and powerful force should begin, not only with the birth of the child, but with its prenatal hfe, as well. Parents are responsible, to a great extent, for the moral, mental, and physical condition of their children. I hold that it is the sacred duty of all parents to see to it not only that their children should be properly and well-born, but that the parents themselves shall, prior to marriage, receive suitable instructions concerning that holy and most important duty of this life, the giving to the world children with pure, healthy minds and bodies. With such children, the labor of instruction would be a source of pleasure, while disease and crime would soon become the exception, instead of as now, the rule. We are told by scientists that "we cannot stand still. We must go up or we must go down." This is a universal law to which all nature is subject. The chemist tell us that the theoretical atoms which give birth to the microscopic molecule are always and must for- ever continue in motion. On this atomic theory depends the great science of electricity, which was once described as a subtle, imponderable fluid. Today electricity is dem- onstrated to be only a peculiar result, which is produced or developed by a change brought about in the atomic and molecular elements of the medium which is thus acted upon. The various qualities and quantities of this wonderful phe- nomenon depend upon special forces, operating on special media, which, in turn, give rise to most wonderful and varied phenomena. The brain, which is the great center of our nervous sys- tem, may be likened to the central office of an extensive telephone or telegraphic system, which transmits and re- ceives its communications through this same mysterious agent. Yet the brain, which is the most complicated and SoMK OF Heu Life Experiences. 383 highly endowed organ of the organic system, is, as we shall endeavor to show, subjected to the influence of habit. The old, old saying that "We are a bundle of habits," savors much of truth, and is worthy of our most careful consideration. Each organ of our body has a special func- tion, or work, to perform, which is somewhat independent in its own action. Yet, due to the intimate relationship existing throughout the entire system, the action of one or all of the organs may be modified, or suspended by the abnormal action of one or more members of the great system. The office of the stomach is to properly prepare the food for the reception of other refining departments for assimila- tion. Now, if the stomach receives ]:)roper consideration and respect, it will, as a rule, return us good and faithful service throughout our natural lives. But that we do treat our stomachs with pro])er consideration and respect is the exception, and not the rule. The mouth is the receptacle for the crude material, from which must be manufactured bone, nerve, muscle, brain and blood. These, in turn, feed, support, and protect that mysterious something which w^e call "Life." Our teeth, the most durable and dense of all the human structures, are admirably adapted to the import- ant work for which they were intended — that of mastication. Few persons seem to give this all-important subject a mo- ment's consideration. The great majority of people spend less than twenty minutes at the table. In other words, mo.st people "bolt" their food, thereby imposing much extra work on the stomach, seemingiy without a thought of the flagrant injustice done that much-abused organ. Like the true and faithful servant that it is, the stomach struggles hard under its accumulated task, and for a time, if strong and vigorous, it may succeed in fully preparing the material for the next higher department ; but in time this maltreated servant will be found doing the work imperfectly. 384 Dr. Owens - Adair. and the recompense for this culpable injustice will be sure to come in the form of some of the many ills known as "dis- ease," to which all humanity is heir. Gladstone, fully realiz- ing the imperative necessity of thorough mastication, re- quired his children to make forty revolutions of the teeth on a mouthful of meat, before swallowing it. His children will surely form good habits in the observance of one of the essential duties of mankind, that of preserving life and health. English people, as a rule, are much less given to "bolting" their food than are the more nervous, active Americans. Indeed, their movements in all directions are much less impulsive. We have, through the habits of thrift, rush and push, inspired by ambitions worth}^ in themselves, acquired this national habit of hurry. This power of habit is a law that holds good throughout the animal kingdom. We see it forcibly illustrated in every avenue of life. It is simply wonderful how susceptible all creatures are to its subtle influence. We are told that the common American swallow, before the advent of civilized man, built its nest in the crevices of the rocks and cliffs. But in time the necessity of self-preservation taught these little creatures the prudent habit of selecting shelter and protection among our chimneys and eaves-troughs. ' This habit has at last developed into a trait which is transmitted to each succeeding generation. Our daily associations have much, very much, to do with forming our habits of thought and action — indeed, in shaping our whole lives. We are constantly receiving from, and giving out to our surround- ings. We gradually and often, imperceptibly, partake of the views, manners, and customs of those wtih whom we as- sociate. This fact was somewhat amusingly illustrated in my own experience during a Villard reception. At that time I attended a meeting of the Y. M. C. A., and listened to short addresses from several eminent English gentlemen. On leaving the building I chanced to meet a very intelligent Soivnc OF IJioK Lii'i': Ivximckiicncks. .18/) Eng'Iish lady, whom I have known since her arrival in the United States, about twelve years before. She said to me : "Well, well, what a brogue ! Really, I could scarcely under- stand them. My native tongue, I suppose. But it is not possible that / talked like that when I came to America, is it?" "Indeed, so potent is this power that almost every organ of our body may be brought under its insinuating influence, for good or evil, thus ixtarding or developing the growth of our minds or bodies. If you bind your arm to your body, rendering it stationary, it will soon become useless. The joint will anchylose ; the muscles grow flabby and helpless. Why it this ? Because motion, exercise and labor are neces- sary to the health, growth and vigor of our organism. A proper knowledge of this fact will enable us to develop and strengthen our bodies as a whole or in part, as desired. The blacksmith's right arm increases in size and strength in pro- portion to the work he does. If, through ignorance or care- lessness, we masticate all our food with the teeth on but one side of the mouth, we shall soon bring about a deformity of the face, by developing the tissues of one side, at the expense of the other. If a mother lays her infant on one side only for two or three months, its health may not seem to sufifer, or its growth be retarded, but its little head will have grown very much one-sided, and, if not forced to lie on the other side for several months to come, it will carry this deformity with it through life. It is remarkable how soon we may accustom ourselves to our surroundings and requirements. If we wish to rise, say at four in the morning, and promptly obey the alarm clock for a few mornings in succession, we may then safely dispense with the alarm, as the habit will have been formed, and it will say to sleep, "Begone !'' This may also be clearly illustrated by the stomach. If you require your stomach to digest four meals a day, as do the Germans, it will remind you of each meal-time by creat- 38B Dr. Owens - Adair. ing hunger, a desire for food promptly at the usual time. But, if you say, through your will power, "I will take three, or only two meals per day," and be resolute and punctual in carrying out your resolve, your stomach will, after a time, cease to annoy you, and accommodate itself to your de- mands. The longer any habit has been indulged in, the harder will it be to overcome, and the easier it will be to acquire it again, even after the lapse of time. The will is said to be the controlling power, or balance- wheel of our complex mechanism. It is the innate intellectual energy of the human mind. Like a beautiful flower it un- folds itself from all the other forces of the mind, and radiates through the whole sphere of our activity. It is the purely practical faculty of man. Through a dis- tinct power or energy of the mind, it blends itself with every other power which we possess. It associates itself with our intellectual decisions^ on the one hand, and our emotional attachments, on the other. It contains an important ele- ment which cannot be resolved into one or both combined. The other powers, such as reason, conscience, and sensi- bility, may influence the will, but they cannot constitute it, or perform its peculiar work. Thus we realize the value of a strong, healthy, will-power; also that it should be guided by a pure conscience, a high moral sense, and refined sensi- bility. In disease and sickness the will-power is weakened, and is said to suffer more than the other faculties of the mind, as the memory is the first faculty to fail with advancing years. HEREDITY AND HYGIENE. (1885-6.) To the W. C. T. U. Convention. Dear Sisters : In the absence of your Superintendent of Heredity, I have been requested to supply a few general re- marks upon this important subject. SoMic OF lli'.K Iji'ic Iv\ im;iikk r:xi'Ri!, and Mr. Thomas Marsh, of Connecticut, walked three and one-half days, Mr. Cary walking 311 miles, and Mr. Marsh 20'.) miles. These men, as you see, averaged sixty miles a day f(jr three and one-half days, thus showing what men can, and ought to he able to do at that advanced age. Their feat surprised the whole country, and yet it should not have done so. The main reason why men neglect daily vigorous exercise after middle life, is because they become engrossed in busi- ness, giving to it all their time and attention, and forgetting and neglecting themselves. This negclct soon brings loss of muscular activity ; the joints become stiff and uncomfortable, for the lack of lubri- cation, and will grate and creak as he walks ; and the man of from 50 to GO is daily reminded that he is growing old, and must take the best care of himself; to him this means less bodily exertion, and more methodical habits. Therefore he rises in the morning, moves slowly, reads the paper, takes breakfast and goes to his work, to which he gives his undi- vided attention, often not taking time for luncheon. He goes home at five or six; sits down to a good, strong dinner; is hungry, and does justice to the good meal that has been prepared for him, forgetting that his neglected stomach should be consulted as to the amount it receives. As soon as the process of digestion sets in, he begins to feel uncomfortable and unbuttons his waistcoat. His children disturb him ; he cannot get down and roll over the floor with them and play hide and seek, and he is too uncomfortable to enjoy their little games. He seeks a comfortable position, and reads till ten or eleven o'clock. This mode of life not only brings on an abnormal increase of fat, but is mother to a whole train of ailments. He does not seem to understand that the human machin- ery, composed of flesh and blood, and bone, and driven by 404 Dr. Owens - Adair. the human heart, is similar to the iron and steel engine, driven by electricity or steam. If let alone, our joints become stiff and useless. Physicians all know that if the arm is strapped up for only a few months, the joints will become anchylosed, or stift"ened; the muscles will become soft and flabby; the arm will lose plumpness and beauty, and be- come finally useless. That old adage: "Better to wear out than rust out,'' should be pasted on every wall, in blazing letters. The hinges and joints of the human body do exactly the same thing, and serve precisely the same purpose, as do those of the iron and steel engine, and like the engine, they require frequent oiling. But beautiful and efflcient as the steel engine may be, it can never attain to the perfection of the human engine. The one was invented and constructed by man, and needs constant oiling and care to keep it bright. But the human machine is the work of God, and he has pro- vided wonderfully for its preservation. The membranes which surround our joints secrete, or manufacture their own lubricating fluid ; and at each motion this fluid is poured out over the bones and surrounding ligaments. So, unless the manufacturing tissues are stimulated to activity b}^ mo- tion, they will fail to produce the required material ; their usefulness will cease, or become impaired, and they will die for want of employment. And so it is, and ever must be, with every organ of our body, from the brain to the most inferior muscle. All cry out for "Work, work, work. Without work we must die." The poet, Bryant, was one of the few men who under- stood and obeyed this law. His daily habit was to rise early, from half past three to four in the summer, and from five to half past five in the winter. He at once began a series of exercises without the encumbrance of clothes. These ex- ercises were such as to expand the chest, to strengthen the muscles, and to lubricate the joints. These morning exer- Sdmic oI'- 1Ii:i< Lii"k ICxi'Kkiknces. 405 cises, while in llic cil)', were cuntiiiued for ;il least one hour; while in the counlry ihcy were shortened to one-half that time, and walks of from six to ten miles were indulged in. When asked concerning- his daily habits Mr. Bryant wrote, at 77: "I have reached a pretty advanced period of life without the usual infirmities of old age, and with my strength, activity and bodily faculties generally, in very good preservation." Mr. Boggs, who knew Mr. Bryant intimately, says he was a great walker. "During the forty years I have known him, he was never ill, never confined to his bed, excepting on the occasion of his last accident (a broken leg). He al- ways walked from his house to his place of business, even in his eighty-fourth year. He would never wait for the ele- vator. He was very fond of gymnastics. He performed various feats on the backs of chairs ; hung on his bedroom door, lifting himself up and down many times; skirmished about the room in all fashions, even running under the table." What a grand lesson this great man has left us as a legacy. His life is a shining example of what has been done, and what can be accomplished. Many other worthy examples might be mentioned, but this must sufBce for this time. I cannot lay down specific rules for exercise or physical culture; it would require too much space. The amount and kind of exercise depend entirely upon the person, and his condition; but there is one general rulejvhich may be borne in mind. "Exercise should begin gradually, and increase daily, never overtaxing the strength." Out of door exercise is especially beneficial for the various forms of nervous diseases, particularly insomnia. Certain muscular exercises, when properly taken, are soothing to the overtaxed brain, and nervous system. This is easily under- stood, when we consider how the muscular work aids in equalizing the circulation, quickens and deepens the respira- 406 Dr. Owens - Adair. tion, and improves the digestion, as well as the functions of all the vital organs. Then sleep, nature's great restorative, "Comes like the benediction that follows after prayer." I may be asked : "How early should this physical culture begin?" I unhesitatingly answer : "From birth." The little infant comes to us helpless and at the mercy of its surroundings. Perchance it may be deformed, its little limbs crooked; but fortunately for the little treasure, its bones are at birth mostly composed of animal matter, and by careful manipulation they can be brought into shape. If all mothers and nurses knew how easily this is accomplished, and were properly educated to the work, we should never see bow-legged, and knock-kneed men walking our streets. Chil- dren would all grow up with beautiful and shapely limbs. No set of muscles should be developed at the expense of others ; all should have an equal chance, and with this impar- tial treatment would come a perfect form. Adorn that form with a well-trained heart, and educated mind, and we have God's masterpiece. May that time soon come, is our earnest prayer. SoMi': ()!■ Ili.K I. II' I". Experiences, 407 CHAPTER XXXI. PILGRIM MOTHERS. (Extract from an address delivered by Mrs. Dr. B. A. Owens, at a recent "Lilicrty Meeting.") Our pilgrim fathers have been extolled for their heroism, their sacrifices, and their wonderful endurance. Generation after generation is referred to the customs of the pilgrim fathers as examples of industry, economy and sound mor- ality. Two centuries have passed away, and interest in the lives and times of our pilgrim fathers does not abate one jot or tittle. Should we hear of a stalwart New Englander, we are apt to hear further, that he is of the old "Pilgrim stock." This is sufficient to pass him into all respectable society. The pilgrim fathers were masters, and well did they carve out their fortunes. True, these men founded a proper democ- \ rac)^, and made equal laws for the general good, and they well deserve the praise given to them. But what of the pilgrim mothers ? Have their labors and virtues been of less Avorth to our nation? Yet little, com- paratively, has been written of woman. Her position and relation in life are admitted, but seldom praised. It is not a matter of much concern to the world, as it reasons now, if woman is not noticed beyond her domestic relations, though it is generally admitted today that woman is equally as strong in adversity as man. She endures more, and is as patient in her afflictions as in her faith. It seems to be the nature of every true woman to feel that her life is providentially guided. And all the great purposes and deeds of our pilgrim mothers were built on their faith in Divine Providence. It is hardly necessary to picture in detail the privations and persecutions which drove these people from their old world 408 Dr. Owens -Adair. homes. Indeed, these occurrences constitute one of those important events in history that mark the world's progress. Repression of freedom of thought, and action, especially in matters of conscience, induced the step taken by the pil- grims to better their condition and improve their minds. The world applauds the desire for freedom of thought and speech, which was no more desirable in those days than now. The cunning devices of designing men still cramp and dwarf the intellect of the multitude in some parts of the world, and make superstition oppressive, though it is not so patiently borne now as it then was. The pilgrims felt this weight resting on them, and were too noble of nature to suffer it. They loved God even more than they feared Him. They desired to live near Him, and no sacrifices were too great to be made for their advance- ment in their Master's service. When I speak of the prin- ciples and causes that forced the pilgrims to seek the new world, I speak equally of both sexes, believing, as I do, that the heroic life-current that coursed through their arterial system was not only morally pure, but was in quality iden- tically the same. The heroism of these brave women lay, not so much in their privations and suffering in coming to America, as in their determination to be free in body and soul from oppres- sion. Though they saw poverty "Coming upon them, like an armed man," they shrank not. Therefore we regard the pilgrim mothers in no less honor than the pilgrim fathers. If these men framed the work of civil government in Amer- ica, their wives raised pillars of moral grandeur to sustain it. If the fathers founded an asylum for those who would go to the wilderness for the sake of purity and freedom in religion, it was the mothers who proved the sisters of mercy who, in their lives of self-sacrifice showed the depth and efficacy of faith. If these pilgrim fathers through want, peril, and every Some of Her Life Experiences. '10;> self-denial, found a spot in exile, where all men couUl enjoy freedom of thought, and liberty of conscience, and the fear- less expression of the same, it was the pilgrim mothers who gave to the world those who should perpetuate these virtues to future generations. And well has this been exemplified throughout our nation's history. We have but to look in any or all the avenues of life, to find faithful and loyal women laboring early and late for the advancement and purification of humanity and their country. Throughout our nation's history, woman's services and loyalty have been equal to that of man, deserve equal recog- nition^ and should receive equal praise. THE ADVANCEMENT OF WOMEN. SHALL GIRLS BE TAUGHT SELF-SUPPORT? REMARKABLE PROG- RESS IN NEW OCCUPATIONS FOR V/OMEN. PUBLIC OPINION HAS CHANGED. By Dr. Owens-Adair. The mothers' meeting at the Y. M. C. A. rooms yesterday was conducted by j\'Irs. Dr. Owens-Adair, M. D., who read the following thoughtful paper on the topic, "Shall Girls Be Taught Self-Support?" The question, I believe, is "shall girls be taught self-sup- port?" In this 19th century, I think the great majority of thinking men and women would, without hesitation, answer in the affirmative. Only a few years ago this w^as an open question ; but the successes wdiich large numbers of women have obtained in various occupations, during recent years, has converted a large majority of the American people to the belief that girls should be given equal chances in the battle of life with their brothers. Witness on our own coast, the Universities of California, both professional and literary, including the grand Leland Stanford, Jr., Univer- 410 Dr. Owens - Adair. sity, at Palo Alto. In all of those spelndid universities, girls are admitted on the same footing, and have the same chances with boys. And Oregon and Washington are not behind California in opening their doors to their girls. Less than half a century ago, there were but few ways in which women could earn a respectable living; and those few were hedged about with many obstacles ; the question being the supposed greatly superior intelligence and ability of man over woman. College doors and universities were closed against her, but as remarked, recent years have changed those conditions, until now that question is no longer debatable. Experience has taught that girls do make efficient "bread-winners." It was always held that woman was made for man, but whether or .no man was made for woman was not conceded until the Anglo-Saxon woman proved herself as capable, as willing, and as intelligent as her brother. Then the question was solved to the satisfaction of all concerned. SUBSTANTIAL PROGRESS. During the last half century, woman has made most won- derful progress. She has sucessfuUy dredged out every channel through which the advocates and practicers of self- support may pass on to fame and fortune. She has, step by step, fitted herself to occupy positions of honor and trust in almost every trade and profession now known. She has broken down the bars of prejudice, and drawn aside the cur- tain of opposition, thus letting in the sunlight of reason, which has placed her where she justly belongs, by the side of her brother man in the strenuous battle of life. Today there are few obstacles put in the way of Avomen as "bread- winners." Go where you choose, and you will find woman occupying positions of honor and trust. Her hands and her brains are being carefully educated to do that which they "find to do," and to do it well. It seems remarkable, yet it is SOMK OF ITkU T.IF'K Exi'KRIKNCRS. HI true, that this j^rcrit ch.-ins^^c in woman's conrhtion has been brought about within my own memory. Less than twenty years ago a Httle band of brave and earnest women were "rotten-egged" at Blockley Hospital, in broad dayhght, in the old, staid city of Philadelphia. And for what was this done? Their crime was that they were trying to fit themselves for the practice of medicine to alle- viate pain and suffering, and thereby earn for themselves honorable self-support. You can readily see that it required a brave woman, even at that recent date, to declare her inten- tention to study medicine. I, myself, studied in secret for several years. To do so openly made a woman the subject of public ridicule, and she was regarded as deserving of severe public criticism. There was scarcely a newspaper in the land that did not delight in holding her up as a "strong- minded nuisance," a "mannish woman" and such-like de- testable expressions. How often has it been said, "No mod- est, or refined woman would study medicine." The doors of all medical schools were closed against her ; but slurs and opposition only strengthened her desires, and, with an irre- sistible will and determination, she rose up in her strength, and builded medical schools for herself. As in the medical profession, so has it been in all others ; and in the various avocations of life, women have won the right to enter them by proving her fitness for them. Thus, step by step, she has paved her way by her good works, to her present position ; proving to the world her capability for self-support through the various channels of industry, until today we find thousands of modest, refined, and most hon- orable women earning their bread in all, or nearly all the callings of honest labor. You find them in our great bank- ing-houses, publishing companies, wholesale and retail stores, telegraph ofitices, insurance, lawyers' and newspaper offices, and in each and all of these positions, giving full sat- isfaction ; — showing, by their ability as managers or prin- 412 Dr. Owens - Adair. cipals in business, by their success, and in earning the esteem and confidence of their superiors where employed, by their zeal, accuracy, and capacity for their work. And yet, wom- an is not fully educated up to a proper appreciation of the dignity of labor. She is just beginning, however, to learn that to succeed, she must apply herself faithfully and dili- gently to her work, whatever it may be. The common belief is that certain kinds of labor, especially housework, are de- grading, or, to put it more mildly, not genteel ; and out of door work is a man's work, and, therefore, objectionable. These are false ideas, and decidedly un-American. Labor should always reflect credit and honor upon its author, and it will do so, if properly performed. Your motto should be : *T will do, and do well, whatever my hands find to do." Only a very few of the great army of men who graduate in medicine, or law, make eminent doctors, or excel mark- edly as lawyers, and so it will be with women. Some have capacity for one profeession, and some for another. Girls should endeavor, with the aid of friends, to make a proper selection of their "life calling," suited to their tastes and capacities. The worship of money and dress, coupled with the fear of not getting into good society, greatly retards woman's usefulness. She should early be taught the wise lessons that the best society for her is always within her reach. Depending on her calling, she will enjoy the society of those who are the builders and workers in our busy world. But if she has no means of support except that of "catching a husband," she is likely to prove an unhappy wife, although she be a leader of fashion. The Princess of Wales, fully ap- preciating these facts, has set a most worthy example before the women of Great Britain, in that she has taught her daughters thoroughly the art of housekeeping, in its various departments, including cooking, and butter-making. She has done this, not only as an example to other mothers of her kingdom, but as her duty to her daughters. Both she Some of Her I.iee Experiences. 413 and her dau.t^litcis dress much in cotton fabrics. She has always shown much interest in workinj^ }^ii"ls, and one of her stronp^est desires has been to build a suitaljle home in Lon- don for such ^irls. From this idea grew the Alexandra House, in Kcnsing-ton ; and from this bej:^inning, many other similar houses have been built in that city. I have seen it stated in ])rint recently that there are several tliousand more working women in London than working men. This is also true of the older cities in our own country. WORK IS honorable. Our girls should be taught that work is honorable, and a real blessing to life. By the way, our boys need large doses of this same medicine. I do not know a more pitiful object than a grown man or woman with nothing to do, and plenty of time to do it in. For such a person, life has no savor, no real enjoyment ; they are waifs, adventurers and tramps ; a burden to themselves, and a curse to all others. . The bread we earn by hard toil is sweeter far than that coming as a gift or through inheritance. The curse of Eden was, under disguise, a priceless gift from God. By all means teach your girls not to be ashamed of honest labor. Try to study their capacities ; their likes and dislikes. L^sually what we like to do best we do best. To the mother, again, I would say: "See to it that your girls are fitted for some calling in life, by the use of which' they can earn an honest living, should circumstances require it. I have believed for many years that one of the greatest wrongs parents could inflict upon their children was to raise them in ignorance of self- support." importance of health. As a physician. I cannot close my remarks wdthout a few words upon the all-important subject of the health of your girls. Do not neglect this vital point. Remember that health 41-i Dr. Owens - Adair. is their reserve force ; — their revenue, to be drawn upon dur- ing all their lives. Therefore look to it with a zealous eye. A few suggestions may not be out of place. To begin, give them good, nourishing food. Provide them with warm, loose clothing, broad, thick-soled shoes, low-heeled. Teach them to breathe and sleep correctly. Breathing, you under- stand, should be done through the nostrils, and not through the mouth. The most healthy sleep is obtained on the side, and in a moderately straight position of the body. Let them be taught to work, to run, to skate, and to ride. Give them gymnastic and dumb-bell practice, and, above all^ plenty of out-of-door exercise, winter and summer. Thus you will give them health and strength, and prepare them for their best efforts at all times. NEWSPAPER COMMENTS. The entertainment of the W. C. T. U. last night, for the benefit of the reading-room, was attended by a larger crowd than was anticipated, as standing-room was at par, till a large number of extra seats were brought in. The singing of Mr. McDonald, of Portland, was excel- lent ; but the principal feature of the evening was the lecture on "Heredity" of that talented lady, Mrs. Dr. B. A. Owens, of Portland. The whole fabric of argument and illustration was so neatly and delicately interwoven that it would be impossible to give the synopsis «of the lecture, and we are sorry that we have not space to publish it in full. The speaker fully established that heredity is a law of nature, and that the bad, as well as the good, is transmitted from the parents to the offspring^ in both the physical, as well as the mental faculties. Mrs. Owens is a lady of rare natural talents, and of vig- orous mental faculties, and she has taken the advantage of a regular, and special course of medical training, at the med- ical college of Ann Arbor, and, added to this, several years Some of Her Life Experiences. 416 of successful pnioticc, — hence much was expected from her lecture hist ni.^Iit, and nunc was disappointed. Thanks to the W. C. T. U. for securing so popular a lec- turer. We hope this is only a beginning of a series of able leclures, a rare means of cultivation, which will n-nder the reading-room ])Opular at once and will be of incalculable benefit to its patrons. One sentence which the speaker uttered last evening should be placed with those excellent mottoes on the walls of the reading-room, and that sentence is : "With the mind, as with the body, — to cease to strive is to begin to die." — Salem Statesman. Roseburg, Or., April 2:3d, 1S8G. Mrs. Dr. Owens Adair, Portland, Oregon : My Dear Madam : I have just finished your essay in the Prohibition Star. It is excellent. Allow me to thank you, in the name of suffer- ing humanity, for that excellent production. It ought to be read by every man and woman that has entered, or con- templates entering the marital relation, who should ponder well the truths therein evolved, and so ably elucidated. "No one can stand still." "We must go up, or we must go down." "Gradually, but surely, yet imperceptibly, as time rolls on, we are being molded into new forms, — yea, into new beings." Noble words, truthfully said. It is the gospel of a "New Dispensation." I thank you most heartily for your views, and trust to hear from you again, in a like lucid manner on that, or any cognate subject. Pardon my enthusiasm, but I felt constrained to congratulate you; therefore, as an act of justice from one who can, and does appreciate such ef' forts in the cause of suffering humanity. With much esteem, I am }-ours fraternally, W. F. Benjamin. I only inserted these words as samples of the whole, for they are like gems in a necklace of pearls. 41G • Dr. Owens - Adair. Portland, Ore., April 2Tth, 1886. Mr. W. F. Benjamin, Dear Sir : I received your kind, congratulatory letter by last mail, and I assure you your encouraging words were appreciated, and gratefully received. In my own case, I know that I need just such encouragement to assist me in this work. My in- herited diffidence, or want of a proper appreciation of my own ability, has been my own worst enemy to success. All my work in my departments is carried on under great dis- advantage, as my professsional duties demand my first at' tention. Again thanking you for your generous appreciation, I am, dear sir, Yours sincerely, in this good work. EXTRACTS FROM AN ADDRESS BY DR. ADAIR IN DEFENSE OF THE NATIONAL W. C. T. U. FOR ENDORSING THE PROHIBITION PARTY. This action on the part of the National Union caused some dissension among the local unions, and this the old parties, especially the Republicans, seized upon, and used as a polit- ical club. I wish to call your attention to a few facts to prove that the National Union unquestionably did right in endorsing the Prohibition party. First: The National Union, when organized, adopted the following pledge : 'T hereby solemnly promise, God helping me, to abstain from all distilled, fermented, or malt liquors, including wine and cider, and to employ and to use all proper means to dis- courage the use of, and traffic in the same." There could be no broader, or more comprehensive prom- ise than this, and certainly no plainer line of duty could be set them than is set forth by this pledge. Sn.Mi'; Ml'- I I IK' 1, 1 1 I'. lv\l'i;i() alcoholized men, so far .yone that lhe_\- rni|L,dit to be sent to a home for the cure of inebriates." My friends, this is truly a lamentable condition ; and yet we are no worse olT than other cities of like size. It is only natural that we should be shocked by what occurs about us. I realize that it is not known by all men, that the annual drink ])ill of our people footed up, for the year 1885, to the enormous sum of $800,000, ()()(). We are asked : "Is it likely that this great national curse can be strangled by the rrohil)ition party?" I answer that there is practically but one way of accomplishing- any great reform in our country, and that way leads through the bal- lot-box. Right here, let me tell you that up to this time, there never has been any fair trial of the workings of prohi- bition — not in Kansas. Iowa, or even ]\Iaine : for what have been termed prohibitory laws in these states, have been passed by one or the other of the old parties, and have not been strictly enforced by their ofificials, who are not in sym- pathy with the movement, and are too much controlled by the whisky element. I maintain that in order to enforce prohibitory laws we must have public opinion and a party behind the officials, who will see to it that they perform their sworn duty. The National Union endorsed the third party by '2ol votes acainst oo. Remember that these women came from all over 418 Dr. Owens -Adair. our land, and represented a phalanx of over two hundred thousand homes. Such support cannot be easily appreciated while women do not actually vote, yet they do wield a power- ful influence. The truth of this may be shown by the gain of the third party in the last two years. In New Jersey, Maryland, Ohio, West Virginia, Minnesota, Nebraska and Missouri, the Prohibition vote of '8G was three times as great as in '84; while Texas cast 30,000, as against 3,554 in '84, and Arkansas did even better. Some of Her Life Experiences. 419 CHAPTER X.\XT[. LETTEU. lO MRS. \V. W. PARKER, SECRliTARY OF THE LOCAL \V. C. T. U. OF ASTORIA, OREGON. roiiland, Ore.c^on, Apr. IT), ISSo. My Dear Friend : Your kind and welcome letter reached me last evening. How like your own dear self ! It brought back many mem- ories of twenty years,. and more ago. And yet it seems but yesterday since we were studying those, to me, hard les- sons in the little school-house on the hill. How well I re- member my humiliation, the day I entered the school, when I had to go down into the primary class in arithmetic. And then I met, and learned to love you and Helen, and I am free to say that affection has never diminished. But it was hard work to keep envy out of my heart, when I saw how bright you were, and how easy it was for you to learn. Spelling seemed to be second nature to you, while to me everything came so hard ! And so it is, still. Every step forward, with me, is a battle. But as I go on, my victories are more easily won, and each adds strength to determination. After we came home last fall from our "bridal tour," I spent several days looking over, and culling over old letters, saved out of the great mass of communications I have re- ceived during the last twenty years. Among these. I found packages from your mother and yourself, and Helen. Let- ters dating back to my Bruceport, and Oysterville school- teaching ; oiu- trip to San Francisco, Lafayette, and so on. It was almost like a new revelation ; for, with all my other defects, I am especially deficient in recalling past events. I am very sorry to hear of your poor health, but hope as you grow older, you ma}- grow stronger. You have great 4"-30 Dr. Owens - Adair. tenacity of life, and I have faith that you will be spared many, many years yet. ]\Iy health is as usual, extremely good, and now that I have a husband whom I love, and who is devoted to me, my life is, indeed, a happy one. With my past life of hardship and constant struggle, it is indeed a great blessing to find one to whom you can at all times turn for consolation and advice. Such an one has God, in His great goodness, blessed me with in this late day of my life. But now to business. I am indeed glad to hear of the advancement of Astoria, my old and first home, forty-two years ago, and shall look forward to much pleasure in meet- ing my friends there, in the near future, especially our ladies of the union. INIy heart is in the work, and with me you know what that means. I hope I shall not disappoint you, and your friends, when I do come. I shall hold myself in readiness to come at your call. I can come on the 2Gth of April, or the 3d of May ; or, if you think that May tenth would suit better, I may make some change here in my present arrangements. As to taking up a collection, I leave that with you. I charge nothing but my bare expenses, and, in this case, we have been expecting for some time to visit our folks, and so can combine buisness with pleasure. The subject of my lecture is : "The necessity of educating our children, through our public schools, as to the effects of alcohol and narcotics on the human system." Please let m.e know, at your earliest convenience, as to the day selected, that I may arrange the time of other engage- ments so as not to conflict. Sincerely yours, B. A. Owens-Adair. Below is the lecture above referred to. SoiMi'. (ii- lli:i< I. hi: I'"xi'KKii:ncks. 4^1 THE NECESSIIN ()!• ICDUCA'II XG OUR CHILDKEN SCIENTIFI- CAFJA', 'JIIKonill OUK 1'UI5L1C SCHOOLS, AS TO TJIE EKJ'l-.CrS OF ALCOJIOL AND NARCOTICS UPON 'l'I[l<: HUMAN SYSTEM. Wc know wc art- trcadiiiL;- upon comparatively new g'ronnd, and snl)jcclint;- ourselves to severe criticism when we suii;i;est that our public schools should he required to assist in this threat cause of temperance. All, 1 think, will a,L;ree w^ilh me thai it is thn>u!^di our ])uh- lic schools that we can most effectually reach the majority of the thinkin.q- minds of our country. Our ])uljlic schools are fast wiping- oul su])erstition and ])reiudice, and train- ing our lioys and girls to think, to choose, and to act for themselves. This can but tend to broaden their minds, and deepen their intellectual perceptions, and give strength and firmness to their independence, which we know is, in our citizens, the very foundation of our republic. As a nation we are looking to our public schools as the great source from which our youth are to receive correct ideas of self-government. Our temperance movement is yet young ; but we have reason to hope that within a short time it will absorb the whole people ; therefore, we would begin now to educate our children as to the uses and abuses of alcohol. By instructing the children of today, we are educating the men and women of the near future, and I think that a child may be made a Catholic, a Protestant, or a "free-thinker"' by the particular instruction given it in early life. Let us, therefore, be very careful that the children of to- day shall not only be generally well-informed men and wom- en, but that they shall grow up with intelligent and well- defined ideas as to the widespread, and far-reaching evil re- sults attending the use of alcohol in any form, as a beverage. Having suggested some of the many reasons for teaching the "evils of alcohol" in our schools, let us now see what 423 Dr. Owens - Adair. objections may be reasonably raised against this movement. Certainly we need fear none in the name of religion, for alcohol is no respecter of persons or faith, but attacks Pro- testant and Catholic with equal force, and brings discord and dishonor upon the families of Christians, as well as "free- thinkers." Would those engaged in the liquor traffic stand alone as objectors ? We believe they would ; and further, we believe that a very respectable number of our liquor dealers would prefer that their children should begin life with a clear understanding of the baneful effects of this most insidious poison. Physiqians know that malignant diseases require radical treatment, and that in all cases, in order to cure disease, the cause must be removed. This disease of intemperance, or alcoholism, to give its scientific name, has attacked our nation, and is fastening on, and gnawing at its very vitals ! Its poison is infused through our whole system, and is coursing in the veins of all classes of our people ! It may almost be called a contagious dis- ease, and when once contracted, it can be transmitted from generation to generation, appearing in a thousand types, and forms. No family in all our broad land is free from its baneful curse. We see it in the pinched and contracted features of the innocent babe. We hear it in the moans and cries of its dis- turbed slumbers. We find it exhibited in the ill-humors and vicious acts of the young and old. It comes to us in the form of chorea and paralysis. We meet it daily in the various forms of hysteria and other nervous diseases. Visit our insane asylums, and trace the histories of those poor unfortunates therein, and you will find that at least three-fourths of them can be referred directly or indirectly to alcohol. Then go to the poor-houses and penitentiaries and you will So.Mi': or lli-.K I, III-: ICximcuikncpis. I'i.'? find a still .greater pcrccntaj^e of llioir inmates \vlif> attribute their downfall to the same cause. And I ask: "Is there any- thing strant^e in all this, when we know, beyond a doubt, that alcohol has a special affinity for brain and nerve tissues? There are many ])hysical and ])ractical demonstrations which plainly prove the tnilli of this. We know that the brain substance of heavy drinkers be- comes hardened and contracted ; and we have it asserted, on good aulhorily, that the brains of long-continued drunkards who have died from the effects of alcohol, were so saturated with the spirits that it ignited when touched with a lighted match. A very beautiful demonstration of the effects of alcohol on the circulation may be shown by placing the web of a frog's leg under a microscope ; then drop one drop of dilute alcohol on it, and you will see the blood-vessels slowly dilate, or expand, and channels heretofore unseen will open before 3-our eyes ; and you will see the blood-corpuscles darting on- ward, at a far more rapid pace. Now touch the membrane with a drop of pure spirits, and you will see the blood-ves- sels quick]}- contract. The cells will slacken their speed, and finally cease to move. The flesh shrivels up. and dies for want of nourishment ; the tissues no longer receiving their food-supply from the blood. Alcohol is a poison. A quart drank at one time would be death to any person, but when diluted, as in wine, whisky and other drinks, it is a powerful stimulant. The expe- rienced physician instantly detects the peculiar thrill con- veyed to the pulse by the heart alcoholically stimulated. Like strychnia, and many other poisonous narcotics, alco- hol (when in the hands of a skillful physician) is a safe, valuable, and harmless remedy. As a stimulant when delay means death, nothing has been found to excel it; and from age to age, it has proved itself one of the physician's strong- est aids ; but, like opium, only by the physician should it be prescribed, or used. 424 Dr. Owens - Adair. Careful experiments show that two ounces of alcohol (an amount contained in the potations of a very moderate drinker) increase the heart-beats (lOdO in 24 hours. It is hard work to fight alcohol ; harder than rowing, walking, wrestling, coal-heaving, or the tread-mill itself. All this is only the first eft'ect of alcohol on the heart. Its long-continued use will cause degeneration of its muscular fiber, so that the heart loses its power to drive the blood,, and in time, it will fail to respond to even the spur of the stim- ulant that has driven it to destruction. When alcohol is taken into the stomach, it passes directly into the circulation, and in a few minutes, sweeps through the entire system. If taken in considerable quantities, its great affinity for water will induce it to absorb water from the red corpuscles, caus- ing them to shrink, and change their form, thereby render- ing them unfit to carry oxygen. They may adhere together in masses, which prevents their passage through the small capillaries, thus obstructing the flow of the vital current through the heart, lungs, liver, and other organs, and so laying the foundations of disease. Should such obstructions occur in the brain, paralysis, or apoplexy may follow. Persons have died on the spot, from drinking large quantities of liquor, on a wager, and, upon examination, it has been found that the whole of the blood in the heart had formed into a clot, thus causing instant death. The red corpuscles are the air-cells of the blood, and carry oxygen, which they receive from the lungs, to every part of the body, and give it up to the hungry tissues, after which they return to the lungs, upon their faithful and double mission, laden with carbonic acid gas, known as the debris of the tissues, which must be burned up in order to preserve health and life. Xow we have seen that from the efifects of alcohol these little life-preser\Aers are rendered unfit to perform their nor- SoMic oi' lli;i< I, III-. I'!xi'i';kii-;.\c:i-:s. 425 ni.'il fuiuiion of t\'c(lin,L; and rclirvinL;- tlic tissues, aiirl lur- tluT, fi-(»iti llii'ir ahiKirnial cMiKlitiMii ihcv have become ele- ments of constant (ianj^vr. W'c kncnv that alcohol alters, and impairs tissue, rcndcrinj^- it liable to disease; especially is Ihis fad noticed in surs^ery. The blood being thinned, and depreciated, severe hemorrhage is always expected, and much dreaded; and the most skillful surgeon oft-times, in such cases, finds himself ap])alle(l, and powerless to check the How of blood. A Mr. Huber, who saw 'JKiO persons perish with cholera in twenty days in a Russian town, says: "It is a most remarkable circumstance that persons given to drink have been swept away like flies. In Tiflis, with twenty thousand people, every drunkard has fallen. Not one remains!" Alcohol is not a food, as many suppose ; but, in case of weakly persons with poor digestive organs, its judicious use viay prove beneficial, by stimulating the glands which sup- ply the digestive fluids, thereby aiding digestion. If you take bread or meat into the stomach, nature wel- comes it, and the juices of the system at once take hold of, and prepare it for the nourishment of the body. A million tiny fingers, known as lacteals, reach out and grasp it. They pour upon it their digestive fluids, dissolving and working it over, and over again, thus preparing it for the circulation, which takes hold, and carries it onward to wherever it is needed to mend, build, or re-build "this house we live in." It is now no longer bread and meat, but has become a part of yourself. It is your flesh and blood. Its chemical energy has been imparted to you as strength. But if you take alcohol into your stomach, nature does not receive it so kindly, but treats it as a poison, and seeks to rid herself of its presence as soon as possible. The glands join in giving up their protective juices, and try, through dilution, to weaken its power, and satisfy its greed for water. 420 Dr. Owexs - Adair. thereby preventing its shriveling- up the dehcate membranes, with which it must come in contact. The veins take it up, and carry it throughout the body ; all the organs of alimentation (scavengers of the body) are vigoroush- at work in the effort to rid the system of this foe. Thus it rushes through the system, and passes off' un- changed, as alcohol, nature seeming to make no effort to appropriate it to her use. Dr. A. B. Hall, of Boston, states that he once bled a man who was dead drunk, catching the blood in a bowl, and upon touching a match to it, the liquor blazed up at once, proving that alcohol was there in an unchanged state. Liquor (though many believe it) is not a protection against cold. Dr. Hayes, the Arctic explorer, says : "\Miile fat is absolutely essential to the inhabitants and travelers in Arctic countries, alcohol is not only completely useless, but positively injurious. I have known able-bodied men become utterly incapable of resisting the cold, in con- sequence of the long-continued use of alcoholic drinks." And it is also true in all cases where strength and endur- ance are required. Prize-fighters, racers, and the like, have given testimony to the truth of this assertion. The trainers of such persons absolutely refuse to allow alcoholic stim- ulants to be taken in any form, during the training process, so well do they know its deleterious effect upon the physical powers. But, after all, the worst evil which alcohol brings upon humanity is the curse which the inebriate parent entails upon his innocent offspring. This law of heredity demands our most earnest consideration. The world is beginning to perceive that the life of each individual is, in some real sense, a continuation of the lives of his ancestors. "Each one of us is the footing up of a double column of figures that goes back to the first pair." As Emerson profoundly says : "A man is the whole encyclopedia of facts. The creation SoMi'-. oi- IIi;r ].\hi: TCximckiknces. 437 of .'L llions.'iml forests is in one ;iconi : aiul I'.j^ypt, fjrcccc, Rome, (ianl, llritain .'ind yVmcrica, lie folded already in the first man." "We arc omnibuses," rt'markcd I lolmes, "in which all our ancestors ride." We inherit from our parents om- featiu"es, our ])hysical and menial vi,L;-or, and even nuich of our luoral character, and often when one generation is skipped, these qualities will re-api)ear in the one followinj^, or even later. The vices of our forefathers, as well as their virtues, have subtracted from, or added to the strength of our brain and muscle. The evil tendencies of our nature constitute a part of our heirlooms from the past. Our descendeuts, in turn, will have reason to bless us, only in the degree that we hand down to them a pure, healthy physical, mental and moral being. There is a marked tendency in nature to transmit all dis- eased conditions, — the actual disease not always being trans- mitted, but a pre-disposition, or tendency toward the actual disease. Alcohol is the most potent of all agents in estab- lishing hereditary traits which prove destructive to both mind and bod}'. The keen, morbid desire for Hquor which demands grati- fication at any cost, is known as "alcoholism," and is trans- mitted from the parent to the child, and thus thousands of persons are cursed with the drink craze, and such of these as do not fall by the wayside, are compelled to make it the great struggle of their lives to resist the cravings of this unappeasable monster. There are at least five distinct varieties of mental derange- ment \Ahich own alcohol as their direct cause. Could men, with one accord, consent to give up all ex- cesses, and live temperately, — which means a life of health- fulness and holiness, — wliat a glorious change would be wrought, ^^■hat a diminution of disease, crime, and in- 428 Dr. Owkxs - Adair. sanity. Though the reduction of miser}- and evil in this generation would be so great, that of the next would be vastly more. But, unfortunately, we know too well that men will not abandon their excesses ; indeed, the experience of ages has taught us the futility of wasting much time and energy in the effort to change the fixed views and habits of adults, and the wisdom and necessity of concentrating our educatory force upon the children, while their young, plastic minds are ready to receive indelible impressions, so as to forestall the baleful influences of evil, and implant the good in its stead. FROM THE ASTORIAN OF MAY 12, 1S85. "The exercises at the Congregational Church last Sunday evening were well deserving the large audience they at- tracted. Mrs. J. B. Wyatt, Mrs. C. H. Page, Mrs. f. W. Eaton, and Mrs. C. W. Fulton, together wdth Mr. D. A. ^Mcintosh, ^Ir. H. G. Smith, and the church choir, gave some splendid vocal selections, after which a thoughtful and instructive address was delivered by Mrs. Dr. Owens-Adair, the lecture being a subject of warm eulogy on the part of all who heard it." PROHIBITION MEETING AT LIBERTY HALL, ASTORIA. Dr. A. C. Kinney introduced the speaker of the evening, ^Irs. Dr. Owens-Adair, at the meeting last evening, who im- mediately began a thoughtful and instructive address, pre- faced by a brief statement regarding the intents and purposes of the Prohibition party, and the work recjuisite for the Woman's Christian Temperance Union to do. She stated the subject of her discourse to be, "Habit in Forming Char- acter." Habit is a prime factor in temperance reform. It may be defined in general as an internal principle that leads us to do anything naturally and without conscious volition. It may be inherited, or acquired. Rightly directed, it should SoiMi', ()i- IIi;k J.ii"k ICxperiences. 439 begin vvilli the prc-n.-ilal life of llic cliilil, .'hhI sliould be carefully nurtured in early years. We cannot stand still; we must i^o up or down. Motion is tbe universal law of nature, aud uiis-dirccted energy will lead to bad, as proper efforts will lead to good results, and good habits. The com- mon remark, "We arc a bundle of habits," is a correct one, and one worthy of consideration by all who have their own welfare, and the good of their fellow-beings at heart. The speaker then entered upon what may be styled prac- tical physiology, and in well-chosen language, gave some excellent suggestions regarding the functions of different organs of the body ; their normal and abnormal conditions, the important influence of our immediate surroundings; the mutual relations of mind and body ; the laws of heredity, and the evils of opium, tobacco, and alcohol, which, though useful in medicine, are, if used habitually, destructive to life and usefulness. The speaker was both pleasing and instructive. Her theme was well handled, her voice perfectly audible in all parts of the hall, her enunciation clear and distinct and im- pressive, and her logic and arguments convincing. Not the least part of her discourse was that relating rather more to the psychological than the physiological nature of man, and on points such as the discussion of our instincts, which were defined as but the transmitted habits of our ancestors. The speaker shed new light on what has, at all times, been a favorite study of biologists. She concluded with a fitting allusion to the priceless value of good habits, and gracefully illustrated the beauty of her text by quoting Longfellow's Psalm of Life," where our representative American poet says : ''Lives of great men all remind us We can make our hves sublime ; And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of Time. 430 Dr. Owens - Adair. Let us, then, be up and doing; \\'ith a heart for any fate. Still achieving', still pursuing, Learn to labor, and to wait." WOMEN TO THE FRONT. L'nder this inviting salutation, the Sail Francisco Chron- icle of a recent date speaks very highly, and deservedly, too, of Mrs. L. M. F. Wauzer, a female student, who has been matriculated in the Medical Department of California, and who "will soon be sitting on the front seat of the lecture ampitheater, and cutting poor humanity to pieces in the dis- secting room," and adds : "She is the first woman on this coast who has ever been admitted to similar honor and companionship." Here we take issue with the Chronicle. If our California editors would but see that Oregon is on this coast, with all her glorious history, they would find examples and prec- edents here for those important matters and things which are sure to follow in their own state, and of which, on the first occasion of notice of them, they boast so much. Oregon has a daughter who has already received the high- est honors in the medical profession, and is now reaping the fruits of a lucrative practice in this state. We allude to Mrs. B. A. Owens, M. D., of Portland. Mrs. Owens came to Or- egon with her parents in 1843, being then a mere child. She early evinced a strong desire to learn ; to acquire a scientific education. Having no means to enable her to pursue her studies, except what pioneers shared in common — just what their hands could procure — she struggled on, through great privation, in this new country, until she became, though young, the accomplished mistress of her own personal for- tune. At that early day, and for years thereafter, the op- portunities for learning were very few and far between. With the subject of this sketch it was an individual work. SoMK o(' IIkk LiFii Experiences, 431 Slu- First prepared herself for a teacher, and followed the oc- cupation until she removed to a more thickly settled portion of the state, among relatives and friends, and engaged in a more lucrative business, pursuing her medical studies at the same time. After a few yekrs, being fully prepared, and having, by her industry, secured a competency, she entered the Medical University of Pennsylvania, at Philadelphia, where, in due time, she graduated with the honors of her class. Mrs. Owens, therefore, is not only .the first woman on this coast who has ever been admitted to such honor, but she is the first woman of the Pacific states who had the moral courage to enter a class of students in a medical college where men and women studied and practiced medicine to- gether. MRS. B. A. OWENS. "This lady arrived on the last steamer from Europe, the Portland papers inform us. Mrs. Owens formerly prac- ticed in Portland, where she had a large business in her pro- fession. Three years since, she went east, and reviewed her studies in one of the first medical colleges in the United States. In this institution she graduated, receiving the high- est degree in surgery, materia medica, and all the accom- plishments of the profession of her choice. There is no lady, we venture to say, practicing medicine who has had the benefit of such thorough teaching as Mrs. Owens, and who comes to the practice with greater skill and ability. In her collegiate course she received the highest honors that could be bestowed upon one of the profession. For several months she has been visiting Europe, from which she returns to en- gage in her calling at Portland. A lucrative practice awaits her.'— (July, 1881.) 432 Dr. Owens - Adair. CHAPTER XXXIII. rROIIIBITION. Editor Gazette : During our last State Woman's Christian Temperance Union convention, our state superintendent of state work asked me to reply to "Ekoms," in the Gold Beach Ga.-:ette of ]\Iay 30th, which I had not, at that time, seen. \\'hom this learned opponent is, I know not ; but from the tone of his article, I should judge that his occupation is that of dispensing alcoholic drinks across a bar, to that very class of men whose rights and liberties he seems so anxious to champion. It is my belief that with even the average thinker, and reader, just such effusions as this from the pen of Ekoms must do our cause much good. The flimsy argu- ments which he sets forth, and seems to think conclusive, are old, and threadbare. They consist principally in asser- tions, sarcasms, ridicule, and slangy expressions. He says : "Physiology is a good thing to study, and so is hygiene, if we can get a proper conception of what it means." Also, that children in district schools will not reach these studies unless they skip geography, grammar, and arithmetic. This shows that he has not a right conception of these subjects. If he will but consult Dunglicon's Medical Dictionary, he will, I think, be able to learn that children not only six, but even three years of age, may begin the study of hygiene by learning what to eat, drink, and wear ; and what not to eat, drink, and wear, that they ma}^ keep well and not get sick. They can also, even at this tender age, be taught the differ- ence between the state of being sick or well, and how to avoid the one, and retain the other. All of which is the study of SoMi-: ()i- WiM Liip: Iv\ri';i''> liy.^ieiu', pliysioloj^y, .-ind palliolo^y, three hi^ words, I ad- mit; ImiI, like .-ill oilier L;reat ])r()l)leiii^, hecoinc comprclicn- sivc vvdieii sim]>lilied l)y kn't\vledi;c, and el'itliefl in simple words. He also says: "And yil we timl perfect health i^revailinp^ on an lndi;in ranch so lilthy thai the stench of it would turn your sloniael) wronp^ side ont a mile anil a half against the wind." ( I presmne lie has reference to the distance from the ranch, and not the length of your stomach.) ".A^nd a nice, Christian family, temperate and refined, prostrate with sickness, in the same climate, and atmosphere." Here I would gently remind our worthy opponent that we are not Indians ; neither are we Chinamen. That which is life and health for one animal, is destruction and death to another. Who would think of placing a horse and a hog in the same pen, and expecting them to thrive on the same diet and ex- ercise ? Just what Ekoms means hy "a good, old-fashioned edu- cation," I clo not understand. Neither do I believe that old- fashioned educations, or by-gone modes of instruction can equal those of today. I am only surprised that any person, at this age of science, who presumes to write for news- papers, could make the assertion that the efifects of alcohol on the human system are not known. The effects of this drug (for it should only be known as such) have been for more than twenty years studied experimentally by many of the greatest scientists of the age. And today we know its effects upon every tissue of the body. We know, too, that only as a medicine has it ever benefited a human being : for it must, of necessity, encroach upon that law that holds good throughout the universe : "Over-stimulation brings about a corresponding sedation." It has been determined that two ounces of alcohol, taken as wines or liquors, will increase the heart-beats (lOOO in 2-4 hours, which is equivalent to lifting seven tons one foot 434 Dr. Owexs - Adair. high. Or, reduced still further, corresponds to work done equal to Hfting seven ounces 1493 times each hour. If we had no other proof than this one of its deleterious effects, this alone would be amply sufficient to prove to all reasonable thinking- minds that alcohol does "shorten life," does "pro- duce insanity and ill-health." But, fortunately, we have thousands of proofs. If space permitted, I could fill pages with statistics, and opinions of scientific men and women to verify these assertions. If this is not so, why do insurance companies refuse to insure the lives of di-unkards? Why is the question always asked by them : "Do you use alcoholic liquors ? If so, to what ex- tent?" Ignorance as to the effect of alcohol on the human system is, we consider, the cause of much drunkenness. Few persons understand or realize that they are being in- jured by this most insidious poison until the habit is formed. That habit now becomes the controlling and consuming ele- ment of their lives, which few persons have the moral or physical power to overcome. "We are a bundle of habits." We begin forming these habits even in the cradle, many of wdiich go with us to the grave. Should not our little ones be taught by their foster-mother, the public school, how to avoid the evil, and select the good? What is the worth of education without morality ? Give us this, and if needs be, less science. We deny that "nineteen out of twenty" want or need alcohol, in any form. And we contend that this nation has as much right to legislate and regulate the manu- facture and sale of this poison, as it has that of opium, or any other deadly drug. Opium has never cost the nation one-thousandth part, either in wealth, disgrace, wretched- ness, insanity or disease, as has alcohol. To say that men have the right, or should be allowed it, to use that which will not only ruin and bring disgrace upon themselves, but upon their families, as well, is, to my mind, equivalent to saying that a man has a right to take his own life, and that Some ok FTi^r I.ikk Eni-kkiencks. 410) of bis family. Were llic dninkards the only sufferers liirouj^li this iiKhil^ciuH!, cvc;n then humane temperance people would he juslified in interfering, and demanding thai the strong arm of the law shall protect and shield those that cannot protect themselves. That this class should be per- mitted to not only disgrace our nation, and their own fam- ilies, but that they should be allowed to poison the blood of their innocent offspring, and bring into our midst poverty, disease, idiocy, and insanity, is more than we are willing to allow. We deny that prohibition is a failure, and with pride we point to Iowa and Maine for ample proof. This tem- perance party has grown into a power that is felt through- out the land. For information, read "Prohibition in Port- land, Maine," on the fifth page of the Union Signal, of July second. 'Tn April, 1884, there were 115 arrests for drunk- enness alone. In April, 1855, onl}- 51 arrests. At the time of this writing, there has been no police court held for three mornings, there having been no arrests." Ekoms, like many other such writers, closes his argument by placing this burden of purification on the shoulders of mothers. But he has taken the great precaution to instruct them in how^ they must work. Thanks, friend Ekoms. for your gratuitous advice. But the last ten years have taught the W. C. T. U. that for their work, it is best to use their own brains. No, no, friend Ekoms, this laying on of your profane hand has not caused our holy sanctuary to "crumble and disappear, like frost in the morning sun." It is still secure, and we fear not the winds and storms of profanity; for our sanctuary is not built upon the sand. Yes, you are right, we are, indeed, "intrenched behind a breastwork" ; a breastwork in which Ave have faith, for it is "For God, and Home, and Native Land." 436 Dk. 0\\exs - Adair. prohibition. November l-i, 1885. Friend Ekoms : It is with renewed interest, not to say pleasure, that I come forward to reply to your second article ; especially now that I know you to be a friend, and more than suspect your identity. I shall strive not to "misunderstand" you in the future, and shall, therefore, have hopes of your ultimate conversion. I should be glad to attempt the answering of all your questions, but to do so would require more space than any newspaper would allow in one or two issues. I shall, there- fore, have to confine myself to reasonable space. It was with thankfulness that my soul breathed a prayer, "Thank God," when my eyes fell on the sentence, "At pres- ent, I neither drink nor deal in liquor." You "do not think that selling liquor has tarnished your honor, or that drinking it has impaired your intellectual abil- ity." The first we will not discuss. But tell me, my friend, do you look back to your occupation of selling liquor with the same pride that you do to the time when your occupa- tion was that of editing a newspaper in the interest of a young and growing community? The correctness of your second assertion depends much upon the quantity drank, and the conditions under which it was taken. If you drank liquor for years, or even months, as a beverage, then the weight of scientific authority is against you. But here comes a demand for statistics, and you seem to ignore statistics, especially those of recent date. If you have more faith in older statistics than those of modern times, I will refer you to Dr. Rush's essay, written one hundred years ago, the cen- tennial birthday of which we temperance people celebrated last month throughout the United States. For further proof, please study that eminent prize essay, written one hundred and thirty-six years ago, on the use SoAii', oi' ||i;u IjI'I'; I'"x i-ioKik.nces. 4;r/ ;m(l ahusc nf alci iliolic li(|u|)li(>ii now exists, and at all times they have done good. Man}- of oiir niinislcrs have sanctioned the move. Yesterday one of llie oldest, an7 my friend finllur s;iiil lli;il lie iiitcii(k'(l votinjj^ for tlic aniciidiiuiit, ;m(l Imped Id sec tlic day. when liquor licenses would he tiiiohlainahlc. \'cs, wc do believe that a "change of law" ])roliil)iUns' llie sale of liquor would brinj^ about a "cliaiii^e of heart." How often do we hear it said : "He is a j;"(X)d man, when not under the influence of liquor." Or, "He was a _qrand man, until liquor <:^ot the ujjper hand of him." ^'()U say tliat tlic law answers the mother that it does not know where her "wandering boy" is; it is none of its business. . Well, then, we think that the saloonkeeper who is cared for and ])rotected by the law would have less difficulty in answering this mother's question, for it is part of her business to know where the dear father and wander- ing boy are. We believe that the law should reach out its protecting arms, es])ecially to the weak and helpless. It does say : "You shall not keep an opium joint, or gambling house," and to the druggist : "You shall not sell poison, except for medicinal purpose." But to the saloonkeeper it virtually says : "Go on selling liquor, which brings more distress and destruction to human life than all the other evils combined ; sell away, and as long as you pay your license I will protect you against all damage suits." The poet Whittier was, by nature, a moral man. He did not lind it necessary to battle with vicious tendencies and appetites. Such persons as a rule are not so competent to judge of the proper treatment or punishment to be meted out to those more unfortunate. We usually judge others by ourselves, and if we are blessed with strong will power, and can easily surmount difficulties, and overcome bad habits, we frequently proceed to lay down rules for others to fol- low. Rules that would be just to us might be unjust to those who are differently constituted. The lives of a few individuals cannot be taken to prove general laws. If they could, the lives of Daniel \\'ebster. Edgar A. Poe, General Grant and a host of others would weight heavily for prohibition. ^IrS. OwEXi>ADAIR, ]\I. D. 458 Dr. Owexs - Adair. ''anti-S-XLOOX movement." Portland, Or., August 1. To the Editor of the Oreg"onian : I cannot resist the temptation to make a few comments on the article "Anti-Saloon Movement" in to-day's Ore- gonian. Especially am I prompted to do this from the fact that, on my way home from the Congregational Church, where I had listened to a beautiful and impressive sermon on "?\Ianhood and Manliness" by Rev. Dr. Clapp, I passed by two saloons on the same block, one with the side and the other with the front door standing wide open, with streams of men pouring in and out. And this, too, in the face of a well-known Sunday law. It fills my soul with great joy that the great Repub- lican party has at last been forced to call an anti-saloon conference. However this may terminate ; whatever course or plan they may decide upon, one thing is certain, the movement will add strength and power to prohibition. That in time it must come to this great issue, all deep think- ers and far-seers know, and that at no distant day this nation will be divided upon this the most momentuous ques- tion our people have ever been called upon to decide. For soon the temperance people will drive this balance of power (the whisky element) from the center of the "teeter-board" into one or the other of the great political parties. Then we will meet them on the open field of battle; and will teach them what morality and "personal liberty" mean. We will teach them that the thousands of wretched wives and help- less children whom they have robbed have "personal rights," as well as distillers, brewers, and saloonkeepers. They will also learn that this nation can exist without a "little wine for the stomach's sake." We are told in this article, as we are told ever} day, that a prohibition law has existed in several states, and in one for thirty years, and still prohibition is not a success. If this Some of Hick Lii-k I'^xi'i:i')cratic candidates de- clined. Now, voters of Oregon, and especially oi Multno- mah county, read, pause, and reflect before you cast your vote on Monday morning next. For the benefit of the cu- SoMP. (»!• Tlij.; T.iKK Experiences. 4.61 rioiis, vvc j^ivc a sketch of some of the interviews, which, after all, proved not to be so very unpleasant. To be^in with: We arc pleased to say we were in every case most graciously received by all the candidates. This might l)e considered sufficient for us to report ; still, there were some pleasing and interesting incidents connected with our work. One fine- looking legal gentleman informed the committee that he would take the matter under advisement until alter the 7th of June next. Another thought it was pretty hard to ask him to sign a pledge, when we had a ticket of our own in the field. Another would not pledge himself to a party that would not pledge itself to support him. Still another did not believe at all in pledges. One good brother thought it was a trick to defeat the "Grand Old Party." Others, notably a member of the educational board, com- mended our work in the schools, and Bands of Hope, as affecting the habits of the rising generation for good. One informed us we should appeal to the party managers, in- stead of the candidates. This answer was, indeed, signifi- cant, and tells the whole story. All w'ere in favor of temperance, but did not wish to com- mit themselves by signing our pledge. In behalf of the committee. Dr. Owexs-Adair- woman's influence for evil, how a clergyman was ruined by a hostess' criminal thoughtlessness. A recent sermon by Rev. Herbert Johnson, at the Warren Avenue Baptist Church in Boston, was entitled, "The True Story of a Clergyman and a Glass of Wine." It's moral was that total abstinence is the only safe policy. Mr. John- son's principal reason for declaring that wine is an enemy of human kind was that in taking a single glass, a man may 462 Dr. Owens - Adair. awaken a hereditary and dormant taste for drink which can never afterward be assuaged, and that may eventually grow to proportions where it will be beyond his control. He then told the story of the clergyman and his glass of wine, the subject of the story having been a barkeeper and drunkard, who had reformed, and become a pulpit orator scarcely less powerful than Henry Ward Beecher. This minister was one evening a guest at a reception given by a yoinig, and very rich woman, a teacher in his Sunday-school, and a member of his church. Several of the guests urged the pastor to take wine, but he steadily re- fused. Finally the young hostess, who was very beautiful, begged him to join her in a glass, and though he several times declined, remembering his former weakness, her charms at last prevailed, and he fell. That night after the reception, he disappeared, and was not found till four days later, while the church bells were calling the Godly to their morning devotions, the board of deacons found their pastor on an improvised bed in the rear of a bar-room, afflicted with the worst kind of an attack of delerium tremens. He lost his pastorate, and became a wanderer on the face of the earth. The last heard of him, he was occupied in go- ing on frequent sprees, and practicing law in his sober in- tervals. Mr. Johnson drew two lessons from this incident : "Never take a drop of intoxicating licjuor yourself, and never offer it to another." (Many people of Oregon will remember the preacher above referred to as at one time one of Portland's most tal- ented speakers ; also the woman who tempted him. The last part of the program is quite familiar to the people of I\Iarshfield.) SoMi-, Ml- lli.K I.iii: l'"xi'i':i()IM TO NATIO.VAr. SUPERINTIiNDIiXT OK iUlREDVfV AND IIVGIKNE (IRS.VG). Dear Doctor : After begging' ])ar(lon for my delay in sending off my re- port (due to absence from the city and overwork), I will say that my labors during the last year have been largely confined to writing and lecturing. I have delivered over twenty lectures in various part of the state. I had the honor of addressing the State Temperance /Vlliance, of from three to five thousand people. I delivered the essay on "Woman's Work" at the centennial celebration. Also addressed the Band of Hope on that occasion. I delivered the address of welcome before the Grand Lodge of Good Templars. Most of my lectures have been delivered in churches, to large audiences. I feel, however, that my best work has been done through the press. I have written very many essays and communications (far too many for me to enu- merate here), wdiich have been published in the Oregonian and our Prohibition Star, and from them copied throughout the state. This is my plan of work, and I feel that I can accomplish far more in this way than in any other. I in- struct my local superintendents regularly through our State Bulletin. ^^'hen a communication goes into the Oregonian, it is read, perhaps, by 10,000 to 30,000 persons, ^^''hen pub- lished in the Star, it reaches from three to five thousand sympathizing and interested individuals. I have little time for practical work in the Unions. Aside from my professional duties, almost all my time is devoted to our temperance work in the wa}' of communications through the press ; and the calls upon me in this direction. 46G Dr. Owens - Adaik. I assure you, are many. I will send you a late number of the Star, from which you can judge somewhat of my work. Sincerely yours in the work, Dr. B. a. Owens-Adair. Portland, Oregon, December 26, 1886. Mr. G. W. Dimick, Director Oregon Prohibition Publish- ing Society. Dear Sir: I had an interview with Mr. H. S. Lyman yesterday, and he, after talking with Professor James, agreed to take the editorial management of the Star on January 1, 1887, and continue during the year of 1887, in charge thereof, for four hundred dollars in money and three hundred dollars in paid up stock of the paper. This, with Mr. James' proposition to run the paper for one year (we, the stockholders, furnish- ing an editor), believe to be a good offer to accept. Professor James is a practical printer, and a reliable man, is the Grand Worthy Secretary of the I. O. G. T. of Ore- gon, while Mr. Lyman is a well-known and able writer in our cause. He was a candidate at the last June election for joint Senator from Clatsop and Tillamook counties, and is, just now, filling the place of his brother, Professor W. D. Lyman, in the Forest Grove University. I think that we should at once place our paper in the hands of these gentle- men, and so d'oes Mr. Z. T. Wright, and other friends here. In order to avoid delay, I would like you to authorize me in writing to place them in charge, by proper agreement, and I would like you to come down yourself ; but, unless you can come, please send me, or some other person (say Z. T. Wright), your proxy as director, as I think no time should be lost in accepting Mr. James' offer. He desires to take charge before January 1st, and I decidedly wish him to do so. Now, as to stock for Mr. Lyman. Mr. Cheno- weth has already offered to donate $100 in paid up stock toward paying an editor's salary, and also to canvass per- SoMK f)i' IIi:k Liir. I-"xi'Krienc;es. 407 sonally t') ohl.iiii finllicr donations, hclicvinp he could se- cure the full ^'MH) of stock, if Mr. l>yman could be induced to take charge of the pajjcr as editor. Mr. Z. T. Wright agree-s to pay $50 Iduard the cash part of Mr, Lyman's salary. I'oth Professors James and Lyman feel confiflent of their ability to conduct the ])aper in sucli a way as to make our stock worth nearly, if not fpiite, at par at the end of 18.S7. Now, taking the present condition of our paper into consideration, and the outlook for placing it on a jjerma- ncnt and substantial basis, both Z. T. Wright and I have felt justified in promising Messrs. James and Lyman that their offers would be accepted, and they would be placed in charge of the paper just as soon as the formal action of the Board of Directors could be had to properly and legally complete the business. Please give this matter your imme- diate consideration, and give me an answer. T have written to Messrs. Roork and Young in regard to this matter. Yours truly. Mrs. Owexs-Adair. P. S. — Unless I am authorized to proceed, I shall feel obliged to call a meeting of our board at an early date, in Portland. LETTER FROM SEYMOUR CONDON. Salem. Oregon. January 31, 1889. Mrs. Owens-Adair, i\L D., Portland, Oregon. Dear Madam — In reply to your letter, please find enclosed H. B. changing the age of consent, introduced by me. How the bill will be received, remains a matter of con- jecture. An amendment will probably be offered, making proof of previous chaste character necessary, when the fe- male is over 14 and under 16 years. Yours truly, Seymour \\\ Condon. 4G8 Dr. Owens - Adair. COPY OF LETTERS ADDRESSED BY DR. ADAIR TO MEMBERS OF THE OREGON LEGISLATURE CONCERNING BILL FOR TEM- PERANCE INSTRUCTION IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS OF OREGON. (1889). Honorable , Dear Sir — Through your letter, received today, I am pleased to learn that we can count you among our positive friends. It is the intention of Mrs. Hoxter and myself to visit Salem at an early date, perhaps on next Saturday, if my professional engagements will permit. One principal object of my visit wall be to get a promise of a hearing before the Legislature at an early date, and any assistance you can give us in obtaining this hearing, say before a joint session for one hour, will be gratefully remembered. Yours faithfully, Mrs. B. a. Owens-Adair, M. D. ADDRESS TO THE LEGISLATURE OF OREGON ON "tHE AGE OF CONSENT.'' (1889). Gentlemen — In the interests of humanity, it is right that a girl should be protected in her childhood from the possible loss of that which is of priceless value to her, and yet that which she has not yet sufficient knowledge or discretion to estimate at its true worth. A girl child is liable to, and often does meet unprincipled and lecherous men, who look upon and lust after her very youth. We need not quote any special authority to support this declaration, for since the horrible disclosures and ex- posures recently made by the "Pall Mall Gazette," as to the wholesale debauchery of little girls carried on in London, England, it has come to be generally known and believed by the reading public, that the horrifying crime of debauch- ing little girls, and enticing them to lives of shame, is car- SojMI', ()!■ IIi.K Lii-i'; IC.\im:i lircvonl. the jjropagati'Jii oi diseases and dcforniilifs. The writer of the lellcr I referred to sccnis to think that if the Ijallots were i)laee(l in I he hands of women they wonld proceed to destroy this nation. Observe his or her propliecy. "God shield ns from tlie evil days that will come npon this nation when women are j^'iven the l)allot, for no chain is strong^er than the weakest link. So no nation can be stronger than its' weakest people, who are Indians, Chinamen, idiots, and women." Now I find myself repeating to myself over and over : "Can this be a woman who is publicly declaring herself one of the weaklings, and that, too, when she has been reading us a lecture on reaping and sowing and the training of the young. I am wondering, too, if this writer is aware of the fact that there are several states in this Union where womeji have enjoyed equal sufifrage wath men, "lo, these many years." Now, I object to being classed with Indians, China- men, and idiots ! I have been voting for these twenty-five years at school meetings, and I hope to live to see the day that I can vote for the President of our United States. I do not believe there are as many bad women as there are bad men. Just visit the penitentiaries and jails, and compare notes. A few weeks ago we had a school election in this city. A good, worthy man was elected for director by a large majority. The mothers of families and school teachers were out in force. They wanted a good director, and they elected him. The}- were not interested in the political deal. Consistency, consistency, thou art indeed a jewel of great price ! Would that we all might possess you. THE "RACE suicide" OUESTIOX. Since President Roosevelt's speech on "race suicide" there has been much discussion of the question by the press and public. ]\Irs. Owens-Adair of this city contributed an in- 482 Dr. Owens - Adair. teresting article on the subject in the Portland Oregonian of May 3, which the Herald reproduces : "I have been watching the discussion of the race problem with great interest, and I was highly pleased this morning with grandmother's discussion of 'the family question.' "This is a many-sided subject, and as a physician I have had the opportunity of viewing it from various standpoints. As grandmother says, the question is no longer 'sacred,' but through newspaper discussion has become very common. President Roosevelt is a great man, and we all rejoice that the White House is the home of five happy children — not a large family, as compared with Oregon and Washington pioneer families. Many pioneer mothers have given thrice that number to their state. But, judging from the 'signs of the times,' such mothers will soon become obsolete, and re- membered only in history. "As President Roosevelt said of his convalescing son, 'He is coming out of the woods with leaps and bounds,' so it is with out nation; we are going ahead 'with leaps and bounds.' We have no time for old-fashioned ways, or old-fashioned living. They are cast behind us, like worn-out garments. Nothing but high pressure and rapid transit will satisfy us. Education is our nation's watchword. Our daily papers are volumes within themselves. We read them principally through their headlines, editorials and telegraphic dispatches. There is no place set aside nowadays in which to file away our, papers. We are deluged with periodicals filled with good reading, which we would like to read if we only had time. Sixty years ago we were glad to get one mail in twelve months. We were delighted when we received two mails a year. Now we are not satisfied with two free deliveries a day. "No one thinks of doing business without a telephone. The doctor calls the family or nurse up, inquires about his patient ; then calls the druggist, dictates a prescription and orders the Some of J1i;u \aik JCnim:kiences. 483 medicine sent. And so with other l)usiness. The housewife, the neis'hhors, all give orders and gossip over the 'phone. Even the little tots know how to climh up to the 'phone, ring up central and make their little wants known. "Is there any wonder that, when we are living so fast, and rushing ahead with such speed, that the wife finds neither time nor desire for maternity? Child-bearing is hard, and the rearing of children requires constant care ; and as society is today, our girls are not reared and drilled, as their grand- mothers were, in the care of children and the home. From the ages of seven to twenty they are kept in school. From the high school they go to the university. Then they are ushered into matrimony and are expected to rear a large family. When such a mother, without wealth at her disposal, attempts to bring a child into the world every two, or even three, years, as a rule she breaks down, and becomes a physical wreck. It matters not how much sentiment or glamour is thrown about motherhood, all the stern reality falls to her lot, and society has augmented her sufferings and responsibilities ten-fold. No children nowadays 'grow' up, like Topsy. No more girls marry, with parents' consent, at the age of fourteen, to begin raising a large family. No more boys and girls at the ages of fourteen and fifteen can be found on the farm, or in the home, doing men's and women's work. Certainly not in Oregon, where we have a humane law to protect children under sixteen from doing work after stated hours. "Sixty or seventy, or even thirt}- years ago th-e labor ques- tion was not under discussion. ■ Girls could be obtained at from one to two dollars a Aveek. They could wash, iron, clean, cook, take care of the children and the house. A week meant seven full days. But those days are gone. The new girl, as well as the 'new woman,' has come to stay. Educa- tion has lifted her out and beyond those 'old-fashioned' ways. Now we can talk with the nations of the world bv wires 48-1: Dr. Owens - Adair. under the seas, and without wires over the seas. We open our eyes in the morning, and press the button. The morning papers are sent up, and we read what the heads of nations will tell us tomorrow. All this interferes with baby-raising. For 'babies must cry to be healthy,' and society has excluded them from churches, theaters, banquets, receptions, and, in- deed, almost every public place (even the most desirable flats and cottages are forbidden to the possessors of children). Papa must go, and mamma wants to go ; but who will stay with baby, The hired girl ? O no, not she ! And now comes the time of the young mother's trials. She is left alone with her baby, or babies. Day and night she must be at her post. Now she finds time for reflection, and she usually does so about in this wise : • " 'What was I educated for ? I am shut out from every- thing. I have no time for society, and must, of necessity, be dropped out. I am already a nurse, and am fast becoming a household drudge. And yet my husband expects me to meet him with a smile, and look as fresh as I did before we were married.' "This brings to mind an instance that occurred at my home a few years ago. A young widow had a handsome young lad of three years, who required a great deal of will power to manage. After a tussle with him one day which completely exhausted her, she dropped into a chair, and with a most distressed expression of countenance exclaimed : 'Oh, my God ! What shall I do ?' Turning to me she said in the most pitiful tones : 'Tell me. Doctor, is this the only way the world must be populated?' My heart went out to her in sympathy, but I could not refrain a smile. I said : 'Xever mind, my dear friend, it will all come out right. Children are very much alike, and one is not so bad as a dozen !' " 'A dozen !' she echoed. 'I would be in the insane asylum if I had more than one, and I will tell you now that I will Some of 11i;i< Liik Experiences. 485 never ai;ain j^xl iiiarric'< m slancc, li,i;lili'(l iiialcln's uiTc thrown amoiii^- the kneclinj^ women, scttinj^' iire lo the skirt of one lady, ['"iiially the climax came, when the}- were all arrested, and taken to the police station, at tiie instigation of a prominent liquor man. And then there was hurrying to and fro among fathers, husbands and sons^ for the speedy release of those most honored and dear to them. Many sad and heart-rending scenes were enacted during those exciting times ; and some had their amusing side. In some of the smaller towns, the dear old pioneer mothers banded together, and went in relays, with their knitting and sewing, and spent the day in the saloons, — one set going in the forenoon, another relieving them at noon, and remaining till night, then a third band took their places till closing up time, much to the disgust of the proprietors and their cus- tomers. Some of these dealers poured out their whiskey, shut up their places, and joined the crusade. Others were defiant, and not to be "intimidated by women and their de- vices." The mother heart was aroused, as never before, and mul- titudes of delicate and timid women threw themselves into the excitement of the hour, determined to rid the country of this giant evil. But they soon realized that the victory was not to be won in a day, and settled down to a steadier, but no less determined effort. Out of that tempestuous crusade was evolved the beneficent, white-winged army- known as "The Woman's Christian Temperance Union," which has for }ears waged the most powerful and effective war on intemperance, and kindred evils. Years ago our own beloved Francis \Mllard clasped hands with Lady Somer- set, across the broad Atlantic Ocean, and now the tiny white ribbon flutters on the bosoms of hundreds of thousands of earnest women, devoted to our holy cause. Say you that all this has been in vain ? No, no ! A thou- sand times no I 510 Dr. Owexs - Adair. You have but to compare the conditions of thirty to forty years ago with those of today to reaUze the great good ac- compHshed. How is it today? The Salvation Army, and other out-of- door evangehstic organizations, are now accepted with thankful appreciation, whereas, in those days, they were abused, and even stoned. It is a matter of common knowledge that no railroad company in the United States will now employ a man who drinks intoxicants, or even frequents a saloon ; and all the large railroads are establishing Young Men's Christian As- sociations and reading rooms for their men, at their own ex- pense. Other responsible business establishments are falling into line, and refusing to employ drunkards and gamblers. Their prohibition prohibits; and no complaint is heard from their employes of any interference with their "personal lib- ety." Social drinking has largely ceased. ^\'Iost fraternal societies exclude saloon-keepers and their families from membership ; and drinking places are being forbidden the most desirable streets, as on our own beau- tiful Yakima avenue ; and, in time, our progressive and ag- gressive public sentiment will demand that the sale of in- toxicants, as a beverage, must cease. Mothers of sons and daughters, the love and loyalty to truth and purity that has burned so brightly in your breasts all these years, has borne grand fruit in this new generation of the twentieth century, richer in that same Heaven-born love of Freedom and Righteousness, than any gone before it ! Witness, in additional proof of this, the place woman now takes, unrebuked, — nay, welcomed, beside her brother. In all the walks of life, she is his equal partner, in business, as well as in pleasure ; and in some sections of our country, in the administration of the law, through the exercise of the ballot. Nor have the breaking of family ties, or the destruc- SoMK OK 1Ii;n Lifk Exi'kkiences. ''11 lion of \voiii;iiil\ modesty, oi' manly chivalry, in any instance resulted there from. M<^i'c especially on hehalf of the Medical Fraternity, whom I have the li(~)nor, on this occasion, to represent, I give you God-s])ec(l. Your work and ours should go hanfl in hand. "A sound mind in a sound body," is the ideal of the highest mortal perfeclif)n. Our province is the physical and mental, as yourvS is, the spiritual. To aid in restoring, and main- taining, by the best known methods, the highest health of all three, is your mission, and ours. We physicians, particularly, welcome all efforts to in- crease the general intelligence, and educate the general conscience, since the lack of these, in the nurse, so often defeats our best endeavors. The progress and^ prosperity of the commonwealth is identical with that of our profession, and no person will rejoice more heartily at all indications of improvement than the physician. I trust your sojourn among us will be as profitable to you as it has been profitable to us. Again we thank you for your good work, at home and abroad, and for the compliment of your presence among us. ADDRESS OF TRESENTATIOX. 1904. Worthy Past Matron : In the name of Syringa Chapter No. 38, I have the honor of presenting you with this jewel, as a slight token of our appreciation of the faithful and impartial services you have rendered us as first officer of our Chapter during the last year. Take it, my beloved sister, and wear it upon your bosom nearest your heart, for our sakes. It will there shine and sparkle, for your honor, and for ours, where, through its brilliant scintillations, it will remind our ctTeat sisterhood of 51'i Dr. OwExs - Adair. the noble deeds of our ancient heroines, Adah, Ruth, Esther, ^lartha, and Electa. RESPONSE TO THE TOAST : "tIIE EASTERN STAR IS THE TRUE HOME OF THE MASONS." The key of this sentiment is "Home." The home is of Divine origin. The very name sends a thrill to every loyal heart. The ideal home is foimd only in the family circle ; around the hearthstone, where the love and loyalty of hus- band, wife and children reign supreme, and give us a glimpse of the home beyond. Such a home can only come of the union of the sexes. From this union, conies the nation, and the rise and fall of the nation depend upon the foundation stone of the home. It has been said that "The hand that rocks the cradle, is the hand th^t moves the world." Woman, therefore, is an essential element in both the home and the nation. To appreciate the true worth of home, in its broadest sense, you should travel, for a time, in a foreign country, where you see only strange faces, and hear strange voices and tongues. At last you come to a harbor, where the ships of all nations are anchored ; and there, floating in the breeze, you behold the emblem of your own country. The sight of the Star Spangled Banner quickens your heart-throbs, and you give vent to your pent-up patriotism in exclamations of, "]\I}- Country, oh, my Country !" "Sweet Land of Liberty, thy name I love." And you will find yourself repeating over and over, "Home, home, sweet, sweet home." The Masonic order, great and grand as it is, had first only a bachelor's home, which is but half a home, until the Eastern Star opened her doors, and invited her brothers to come and abide with her. The Eastern Star possesses all the essential elements of an ideal home. Here you find the father, mother, husband, wife, sister and brother, all united in one grand, fraternal So.Mi: (ii i li:i< I^iM', lv\('i'.irown, in Chehalis, Wash. Such occiUTcnces speak more i)Owerful1y than words. )-2l Dr. Owens - Adair. CHAPTER XXXIX. North Yakima, Wash., September 28, 1905. To the Editor : I read the "She-Pope of Milliners," ]\Iadame Hunt's tirade on "Bare Heads on the Streets" (in the Oregonian of recent date), which she chooses to call indecent. Who, forsooth, is this president of the national milliners' convention, who declares war on a great army of women who choose to appear on the streets, to walk or ride, with uncovered heads? I admit that an}^ person has the right to improve and protect his business, but he has no right to wage war on the community by so doing. The madame may "sigh" and "shudder" and be "horrified" and perhaps suffer an attack of hysteria from coming in con- tact with a bare-headed woman on the street or in the store, but "war, and no compromise" is a declaration that will be resented by the average American woman, who is fast be- coming mistress of her own ideas. The woman that charms the world today is the woman of courage, of original and independent character ; not a bundle of dry goods and millinery. She can select a hat to her taste, and she can, and will, go bareheaded, if she choose to do so. If she wishes her hair to have a sun bath, or to have the soft breezes fan her scalp or play with her silken tresses, why should she be denied that pleasure? Poets have raved over the wealth and beauty of woman's hair. Every woman should retain her good looks as long as possible. Ine loss of the hair is a grief to any person. Baldness, which is so prevalent among men, is due, prin- cipally, ■ to their headgear. Proof of this can be found among the natives and all people who do not wear head coverings. All theater-goers are expected to leave their hats at home or remove them before the play begins. We have a bright and up-to-date niini.sler in this city who requested the ladies of his conj:»'rc)::jation to remove their hats during service, and I iindcrsland this is the com- mon custom in the largest cluuchcs of Portland. It is a sensible request, for who wants to sit behind one of those hats that spreads half across the pew, while a long feather or spray of flowers keeps nodding in your face, completely shutting out the speaker from view ? Madame says : "If it is the intention of the followers of the uncovered-head fad to give their hair a bath in the sunlight, let them find a nook in their home, where they can sit and enjoy the rays of the sun in seclusion." Pretty advice this, but where is the nook and where is the time? Again, everybody does not enjoy seclusion. It is a real pleasure to feel that you can call upon a neighbor or run down town to the store and not be compelled to stop five, ten or fifteen minutes to arrange your hair to suit your hat, and to be sure every pin is placed so that it will not be lop-sided. Public opinion would not have permitted this a few years ago. The busy mother and housewife was compelled to don her hat under all conditions. And how many scenes like this have occurred. In great haste the precious hat is snatched from the bandbox and pinned on, while several tots are pulling at her dress, promising to be good and rock the baby if she will bring them candy. She rushes to the store, finds it full, must wait. Home again, finds the baby crying, and beans dry and burning. She runs to the bureau to remove her hat, amid the clamor for candy, and, to her horror and disgust, finds she has been down in town with her hat on wrong side before. This accounts for that broad smile Airs. gave her. Whom had she seen? Everbody, yes, everybody. Oh. dear, dear, everything goes wrong. Dinner late : husband will be here any minute : hair all mussed, and such confusion ! She feels that she is threatened with, nervous prostration. This is not an overdrawn picture. 526 Dr. Owens - Adair. Let me tell you my experience of twenty-four years ago. I had a hysterical patient in South Portland, who gave me a good deal of worry. One bright morning my reception- room was well filled with ladies, and I was rushing to get through. I heard the office girl say: "The doctor will be out in a few minutes," But a man's voice replied : "I must see her at once." I stepped to the door. The husband of the aforesaid patient said: 'T fear my wife is dying; you must come at once." I replied: ^'Oh, no, she is not dying." He exclaimed: ''You must come at once, or I will get another doctor." "Well," I said, "go and bring my rig." He was back all too soon. "Now, how many of you ladies can wait till I get back ? I'll not be long," I said ; and to the man : "Get in the buggy, and be all ready, so I will not be detained." I finished with the last hurry patient, and, seizing my case, I rushed downstairs and sprang in, and taking the reins I said "Go" to my good horse, Frank, wRo was al- ways ready to obey that order. Just beyond First street bridge I saw two of my sisters coming. When they saw me, they rushed to the curb, and as I saw they were in great distress I stopped, saying: "What is the matter?" One of them said: "Where is your hat?" I said "Go" to my horse, and turning to the man at my side I asked: "Why didn't you tell me I was bareheaded?" The distressed expression on his face as he was holding on to prevent being thrown out by my reckless driving brought the ludicrous side of the picture to view, and I laughed till we reached our destination. I found my patient not dead, gave her a good "dope" and left her medicine to be taken every ten minutes till relieved, borrowed an old hat to save my reputation, and rushed back to my office. I expected to receive a free advertisement the next day, but SoMi: DP 1 I|';k Kill'; Ivxim^rirnces. 527 fortunately for mc, cartoonists were not numerous in those days. Our own Homer Davenport was not known to the world of fame. He was occupied about that time with big lumps of chalk and a can of whitewash decorating board fences, barns and outhouses. I should not have taken the time to reply to madame's war notes had I not been urged to do so by several indig- nant ladies of this place. , Dr. Ov^ens-Adair. DR. ADAIR's surgical WORK. As a matter of record I feel it incumbent on me to give the public dates of some of my earliest surgical operations. My first plastic work was for Mrs. A. F. Brown, of Oak- land, Oregon, in August, 1881. Dr. Carpenter, professor of surgery in Willamette University, administered chloro- form, Dr. Cardwell assisting. For that operation I received one hundred dollars in gold twenty-dollar pieces. I believe that was the first personal perineal operation performed in Oregon by a woman, and I distinctly recall Dr. Card- well's remark at the time. "Well, Doctor, we men must look to our laurels when we see a woman do such skillful work as this." That case brought me wide notoriety, not, however, in the same sense as did the autopsy case of seven years be- fore, for this patient was well and favorably known, and public opinion has marvelously changed toward "she- doctors." My next case was a Mrs. Kent, of Portland, Oregon, soon after. Dr. C. C. Strong administered the anaesthetic. She, too, was a grateful patient, often saying: "I don't pretend to be a very good Christian, but I do think the most Christian act I can perform is to hunt up other poor, miserable women and get them to go to Dr. Owens and let her perform an operation that will give them some 528 Dr. Owens - Adair. comfort in this world," and she was as good as her word, and brought me many patients. Surgery in those days was. not so common as now, and a woman surgeon was rare indeed. My esteemed friend, Dr. G. M. Wells, has assisted me in many operations. In December, 1886, I was called by Dr. August C. Kinney to Astoria to operate on Mrs. Ward for complete procidentia. After moving to North Yakima, Wash., I did a great deal of surgical work. For Mrs. S. B. Smith, of Clatsop, who came to be at North Yakima for medical assistance, I removed the entire mammary gland, including three can- cerous growths (one as large as a hen's egg) from the axilla. Dr. Fletcher administered the anaesthetic, Dr. T. B. Gunn assisting. On our way home Dr. Gunn said: "Doctor, do you know you "have performed a major opera- tion?" Later Dr. J. A. Fulton, of Astoria (to whom I had sent Mrs. Smith for any needed advice), laughingly said: "The idea of your doing that operation !" "Why? Don't you think it ought to have been done?" "Yes, of course, but I never thought you would have tackled such a job as that." From surgery has come a large part of my income from my professional work, and it is the branch which I best love. Had I not taken upon myself matrimony and mother- hood I would have continued to drink at Europe's and American's freshest fountains of surgical knowledge until I should have gained the confidence to stand beside any surgeon in the land. This is no idle boast, for the two principal requisites of a first-class surgeon are, first, knowl- edge, and, second, confidence in his ability to put it into practice. This recalls what Professor McLean of the University of Michigan once said in the lecture room : "Medicine and surgery may, as a whole, be compared S(;me of lIi'K Lii'i'; Ivxim^kiences. ^21) to a house of many rooms. Surgery is the parlor, wherein .you will find the most valuable and sacred contents of the house." If the Death Angel defers his call on me for a few years more I shall endeavor to compile a small book from the gleanings of my thirty odd years of practice, which may be of some value to Oregon in contrasting the work of the early pioneer doctor with that of the physician of modern times, especially showing the immense forward strides taken by surgery. PIONEER CITIZEN RETURNS TO THE HOME OF HER YOUTH — DK. OWENS-ADAIR AGAIN AT SUNNYME.\D FARM, NEAR WARRENTON — ABSENT SEVEN YEARS. The local world of Astoria will find pleasure in the an- nouncement that Mrs. Dr. Owens-Adair, with her husband, Col. John Adair, is again comfortably installed at the family home on Sunnymead farm, after an absence of seven years in North Yakima, Wash., where she practiced her profes- sion with constant success and made worlds of friends. Dr. Adair will remain at Sunnymead for some little time, until weather conditions become more propitious, when she will leave for Southern California, where she will remain until she has finished the chosen task of her later years, that of writing a book, biographical and historical in char- acter, and as wide as the state in scope, and including much of her life in this city and county, all closely interwoven with the lives of other prominent pioneer families of this section. The following excerpts from the Yakima press will best serve to tell those who know and admire this sturdy and accomplished lady of her experiences there, and of all she accomplished professionally and socially. The Yakima Herald, in a recent issue, says : "After over thirty years spent in the practice of med- icine. Dr. Owens-Adair announces her intention of retiring 530 Dr. Owens - Adair. and taking" a well-earned rest. Dr. Adair is the only woman physician in this city, and she has built up a large practice during the six or seven years she has resided in North Yakima. She will spend the remainder of her years on her Sunnymead farm of several hundred acres near the mouth of the Columbia river, where every boat that enters the river and every pound of freight that goes to the ocean must pass her doors. Mrs. Adair believes she has earned a rest from the activities of her professional life, and she knows of no more attractive place than the old farm to re- cuperate. The doctor still holds considerable Yakima realty, which she believes gilt-edged as an investment. The best wishes of a host of warm friend here will go with her." And the Daily Republic speaks no less kindly when it says : "Dr. Owens-Adair has informed the Republic that she will close her office and retire from business here October 10. Dr. Adair has been in active practice for over thirty years, having been the first woman graduate in medicine in both Oregon and Washington. She has practiced in both states since the early '70s. "It is the doctor's intention to devote the remainder of her life to literary work, and she hopes to have her first book for the press by early next spring, when she will re- turn to her home in Clatsop County, Oregon. The doctor will remain with her son, Dr. Hill, till the morning of the 14th. After a visit of a month with Col. Adair and their son John at their ranch she will go to San Diego, Cal. ''On the eve of her departure from North Yakima Dr. Adair was the guest of honor at a splendid banquet given by the order of the Eastern Star, as represented at that place, and was made the recipient of a superb gold pen from the lodge as a testimonial of the high estimate in which she was held in that city. "Mrs. Adair may well use this suggestive gift in the new volume she is about to write, thus giving a host of others some share in the beauty and utility of the gift." Some of 1 Ti'.k ] jvi: R.xi'Kkiences. 531 CHAPTER XL. THE FIRST RECOGNITION OF WOMEN PHYSICIANS BY THE AMERICAN MEDICAL ASSOCIATION — THE WOMEN WILL ENTERTAIN. A unique feature in the series of entertainments to be given during the visit of the A. M. A. to Portland will be the banquet to the women physicians in attendance un- der the auspices of the Portland Medical Club. This ban- quet will take place at the Hotel Portland on the evening of July 12. (1905.) This is the first time in the history of the sessions of the A. M. A. that the women have had a distinct recogni- tion. It certainly marks a step in the progress of the asso- ciation. It is worthy of note that it occurs at the Portland meeting, and at the suggestion of the women physicians of this city. It is another instance of the West setting the pace and establishing precedents for the rest of the country to follow. We may expect, hereafter, to see such recogni- tion a regular thing at the A. M. A. meetings wherever held. I take great pleasure in giving space to the above from the Oregon Medical Sentinel of July 12th, 1905. It speaks vol- umes in contrasting the standing of the professional woman of today with the standing, or the lack of it, of a genera- tion ago. I had the honor of attending the banquet referred to by the Sentinel, which far excelled anything of the kind in my previous experience. A most remarkable feature of this ban- quet was the absence of wines and cigars. Pure, cold water and tiny cups of coffee were the beverages which slaked the thirst, and calmed the nerve-centers of the ladv ]\I. D.'s, and 532 Dr. Owens - Adair. enabled them to suitably respond to toasts presented by our own Dr. Mae Cardwell, whose name, so well known at home and abroad, assures success in whatever she undertakes. The banquet was a triumph of the twentieth century art, taste and genius. Words are inadequate to do it justice. The tables were literally banked with smilax and fragrant and gorgeous flowers, which also formed a canopy overhead, and among which thickly sparkled countless tiny electric lights, whose soft, heaven-lighted rays twinkled and scintil- lated like radiant star-jewels. The tables were presided over by men in swallow-tailed coats, and kid gloves, — the only members of their sex privileged to be present. The California Poppy, the Oregon Grape, and the Wash- ington Rhododendron, were commingled in artistic deco- ration, representing the united interests of the three great commonwealths, and eloquently voicing in sweet flower lan- guage, a cordial welcome from each to all. Most of the ladies present were in full dress, white, so beautiful and becoming to young and old, and so much worn at the present time, prevailing in the exquisite costumes. Mine was of white, with a corsage bouquet of white sweet peas, my favorite flowers. One of my colleagues said, "Why, Doctor, you look like a bride!" 'T feel like one," I responded. "For this day, in which I behold the full fruition of all our labors, is the happiest of my life. I thank God that I have been spared to see this day, when women are acknowledged before the world as the eqvial of men in medicine and surgery ; and, above all, that my own Oregon is in the forefront of this grand for- ward movement." By special invitation, the professions of the Pulpit, Press, Law and Medicine, were each represented by a woman prom- inent in her chosen life-work. After our physical needs were satisfied by the delicious viands so profusely provided, our glasses were re-filled with SoMK oi' lli:i< l.ii'j': Exi'iiKiriNCKS. 533 the sparkling- dew of Heaven, and llicn ])e^an "The feast of reason, and the flow of soul." Our accomplished toast-mistress then stei)ped within the charmed circle, and sprung;- a surjjrise upon us, for, as no one had been requested beforehand to prepare to respond to a toast, no one was prepared to be called on, for that pur- pose. After the address of welcome, the toast of "Oregon" was announced, and I was called on for the response ! To use a slang" phrase, I was "floored," and had. to receive a second call before T could "pull myself together," and get on my feet. Naturally deficient in extemporaneous speaking, especially in the presence of such an august body, with assembly-room, doors, and passageways a sea of faces, I was for a moment speechless ; but, inspired by the intelli- gence and beauty around me, and the products of our ever- green states in such lavish profusion, my thoughts began to take form, and I said, in substance: ' "We are here to do honor to Lewis and Clark, and to celebrate their inestimable services in exploring this great Northwest Coast, and all honor is certainly their due ; and yet, — that pregnant 'yet,' — had it not been for a woman — the Princess Sacajawea — who knows if ever they could have succeeded in their momentous quest? Sacajawea, who, bearing her babe on her shoulders, with unfaltering strength, courage, and fidelity, guided those intrepid men steadily and unerringly all the long journey, protecting them by her pres- ence and explanations, from the savage tribes on the way, even to the ver}^ verge of, the Pacific, which was as strange to her as to them, remaining, and acting as a safeguard on their return trip also ! Truly, we can say that woman had a vital part in the very beginning, as well as in the later destiny of this great Northwest Empire!" Many, very many, were the beautiful and graceful senti- ments evoked by the toasts proposed at that memorable ban- quet, none of which were better than those of Rev. Anna 534 Dr. Owens - Adair. Shaw, the first woman ordained minister in the United States, and perhaps in the world. She said, in part: "I have been travehng on the trail all my life. It was the blazing of the first trails that has been the hardest work, and the travelers in them were few for many difficult and lonely years, but the road has widened, and straightened, and the travelers in it have increased, until now it has be- come a broad, smooth highway, in which the untrammeled women of our own country, and ultimately of all nations, may freely and gladly walk." ON THE TRAIL. (Tune, ^'Maryland, My Maryland.") We're going down to Portland Town, Oregon, our Oregon. We're going there to see the Fair, Oregon, our Oregon. We'll don our best, and banish care ; We'll take our time, and cash to spare ; Our folks and friends will all be there ; Oregon, our Oregon. They've asked us all ; we've heard the call, Oregon, our Oregon; We'll hit the trail, by boat and rail, Oregon, our Oregon. We'll join the throng, by boat and rail. That starts next June upon the trail; We've planned to go ; we will not fail ; Oregon, our Oregon. Lewis and Clark, those men of mark. Saw Oregon, far Oregon, With vision clear, and journeyed here To Oregon, fair Oregon. Through trackless wastes, and forests drear — Wild beast and savage lurking near, — They traveled far, but rested here. In Oregon, bright Oregon. Some of IIi:k I.ifi': Experiences. 63" Their moviiii^ talc, their matchless grail, Oregon, our Oregon, Our children hear, with smile and tear, Oregon, our Oregon. With kindling eye, and eager ear, The busy millions, far and near, Thy wondrous story pause to hear, Oregon, our Oregon. Our fathers trod the path they blazed, Oregon, our Oregon, And here their household altars raised In Oregon, their Oregon. They gave their best ; to us they gave This land beside Pacific's wave, — The land that never bore a slave, Oregon, free Oregon. A hundred years, a hundred years ! Oregon, our Oregon, Since first those brave old pioneers ^ . Saw Oregon, our Oregon! They sowed in toil, and blood, and tears, A harvest rich for future years. Their deeds their names and thine endears, Oregon, loved Oregon. The East and West, as host and guest, Oregon, our Oregon, Shall meet, and grasp, in friendly clasp, Oregon, our Oregon, Warm hands of welcome, binding fast The future bright, and storied past. In links that shall unriven last, Oregon, our Oregon. 536 Dr. Owens - Adair. The world shall pour its treasure store, Oregon, our Oregon, From mart and mine, from bough and vine, For Oregon, our Oregon. So all the world shall welcome be To come and hear, and taste, and see What charms each sense is found in thee, Oregon, blest Oregon. Inez E. Parker. the progress of women. (By Lydia Kingsmill Commander, "Scrap Book.") "Nothing is more wonderful in this age of wonders than the progress of women in all the civilized countries of the world. Never before were the doors of opportunity so widely opened ; never before were the barriers of sex so low. "The last census shows that in the United States women are following every trade and profession except the Army and Navy, and even the Navy has a woman physician, Dr. Anna McGee, who wears a uniform. In Europe the uni- iforraed woman is by no means a rarity. Almost every royal woman wears military honors. It will be remembered that Queen Victoria was carried to her grave on a gun-carriage, like an officer, because, as Queen of England and Empress of India, she was the head of the British army, and of the greatest navy in the world. "To have an occupation is almost as natural to the Ameri- can girl of today as to her brother. For a woman to go into business used to be like climbing a mountain ; now it is almost like going down a toboggan-slide. When she leaves school, she expects to work. Sometimes she finishes her education in the public school, and goes into a shop, factory, or mill. She may become one of the 75,000 milliners, the 100,000 sales- women, the 120,000 cotton workers, the 875,000 laundresses, or the 340,000 dressmakers. Some of IIi:i< Life Experiences. o37 "If she stuy longer in .school, she may become one of the 320,000 school teachers. Or she may go to a college which sternly closed its doors in the face of her g-randmothcr, and carry off the prizes and honors from the men. She can enter a university, come out a R. A., M. A., or IMi. D., anrl join the thousand women who are already college professors. "If she fancies law, medicine, or the church, her way is clear. All three professions number their women members by the thousand, though a generation ago the pioneers in each line were struggling against ridicule and bitter oppo- sition. "Even the more unusual occupations are well represented. There are 3G1 wholesale merchants, 1,871 officials in banks, 1,932 stock-raisers, 378 butchers, and 193 blacksmiths, all women. "The traveling public depends for its safety (and its acci- dents) principally upon men ; but women already claim 2 motormen, 13 conductors, 4 station agents, 2 pilots, 1 light- house keeper, 127 engineers, and 153 boatmen among their number. "Almost every paper one picks up tells of women's suc- cesses in some line of work. The product of her brain and pen have long blessed the world. A dozen women in Chi- cago, and probably three times as many in New York, are making $10,000 a year or more, either as salaries, or profits from business. It is said that Hetty Green, the shrewdest business woman in the world, can stand in City Hall Square, New York, and see five millions of dollars' worth of her own property ; and every one knows she owes her millions to her own cleverness, and not to either father, husband, son or brother. THE END. HH tH ! iilfjmml ■' ■ '■ .', i Itynmjinijy 1 • r