[Index of available issues]

VOL. 2. JUNE 15, 1893. NO. 10.

The TALENT NEWS is published the 1st. and 15th. of each month.

One year................ 25 cents
Six months.............. 1/4 of a dollar,
Three months............ Two bits.

Entered at the Talent Post Office as second
class mail matter.


Such a horrid jogafry lesson!
  Cities and mountains and lakes,
And the longest, crookedest rivers,
  Just wriggling about like snakes.

I tell you I wish Columbus
  Hadn't heard the earth was a ball,
And started to find new countries
  That folks didn't need at all.

Now wouldn't it be too lovely
  If all that you had to find out
Was just about Spain and england,
  And a few other lands thereabout?

And the rest of the maps were printed
  With pink and yellow, to say,
"All this is an unknown region,
  where bogies and fairies stay!"

But what is the use of wishing,
  Since columbus sailed over here,
And men keep hunting and 'sploring
  And finding more things every year.

Now show me the Yampah River,
  And tell me where does it flow?
And how do you bound Montana?
  And Utah and Mexico?
                     -- Prenological Journal

Dr. Lyman Abbot of Plymouth church says that Dr. Briggs is all O.K. on the theological question, but the Presbyterian general assembly that decided him to be a heretic is badly off. So it goes. When learned doctors of divinity disagree how are we poor, benighted clodhoppers to know when we are on the right track?

We wish the D. D's. would define heresy and tell us what there is about it that is so very bad. Really much of the heresy of a century ago is first class orthodoxy to-day. A heretic is a sort of a religious progressionist -- crank if you will.

He climbs out of the old ruts and sets out on an exploring expedition of his own.

He is sure to make new discoveries. And those discoveries are pretty sure not to harmonize with old-time notions. So the non-thinkers -- those who are contented with the "sublime truths" handed down to us by our zealous forefathers, are "forninst" him and at once combine to lash the adventurous heretic into line.

If they succeed, it will tend to serve as a warning to others. If he succeeds, his heresy is after a time engrafted into the regular creed and becomes genuine orthodoxy. Indeed, Abraham, Moses, all the great leaders whose names are prominent in religious history, -- even Christ himself -- were heretics until their heretical teachings were accepted.

And orthodoxy is still progressing and will continue to progress, we hope, until opposing views will be welcomed instead of shunned; until every vestige of intolerance and bigotry will be eliminated.

And about that time we may look for the Millennium.


[side 2]


BY J. R.

A dreamer lay upon a grassy mound,
  The sky above,
A score of years were his, and new to him
  Were life and love.

In visions real as life he felt himself
  conducted thro'
Apartments wonderous strange and different,
  And to him new.

The first was regal, decked out all in gold
  and hangings bright,
While o'er a dais was upheld a crown
  Sparkling with light.

The vacant stand beneath was tempting, near,
  He longed for power,
His place was surely there -- most opportune
  This joyous hour.

A bound he made, both quick and full of hope,
  But in his ear --
while strong hands grasped him close -- a voice cried low,
  "Not here, not here."

And then there came a dimness o'er his sight,
  And shadows fell
Across a squalid room where human groans
  Rang out their knell.

The poorhouse harbored those whom penury
  Had levelled low,
To whom the world, in giving naught, had even failed
  Love to bestow.

The dreamer shuddered as he looked around
  And dropped a tear.
"Is this for me?" he cried, but answer came,
  "Not here, not here."

The vision passed, and with its ebb there came
  A brighter glow,
For soon the sun's light showed a bower basking in
  Its golden flow.

Upon a couch there lay in langrous ease,
  With eyes half raised,
A woman o'er all other women Queen,
  By men most praised.

They were -- those cushions at her lovely feet --
  Beguiling near,
"My place is there," he cried; but answer came,
  "Not here, not here."

There comes a sudden darkness o'er the scene
  As of despair,
And the stillness is unbroken save by
  The whispering air.

But there, anon, a woman's form appears,
  The very ice
Of chastity upon her brow, where's writ --

The dreamer hears her call in pleading tones,
  "A volunteer,"
While low the long-familiar voice exclaims,
  "Thy place is here."

We have received, for publication in the News, a long letter from the state of Washington eulogistic of the late Welborn Beeson. Eulogistic? It is fulsome.

Moreover, it is misleading. Mr. Beeson was a good man. Our obituary issue of the 15th ult., was not overdrawn; neither was it underdrawn. We wrote what we thought and thought what we wrote. We were fully aware that our subject was human, and as such not entirely free from imperfections inseparable from humanity. This earth is not the abode of perfect beings. There was no attempt to flatter, but to depict the virtues and worth of our subject to the best of our understanding. But our correspondent would attribute qualities to the deceased that could only belong to white winged angels from the golden shore. He grants him all the heavenly rewards and honors that are said to be due to a christian life, -- is sure that "his soul e'er this has added luster to that grand galaxy of luminous spirits which surround the great white throne of God," etc. etc.

Strange that it did not occur to our enthusiastic eulogist that, according to Christian teaching, such rewards can only follow an acceptance of, and practical adherance to, Christian belief and doctrine.

Mr. Beeson was emphatically a disbeliever in Christianity. He neither accepted its dogmas, followed its teachings nor desired its rewards. He had a creed of his own, a creed founded upon justice between man and man -- upon the natural rights of humanity. This he followed, but it deviated widely from that "straight and narrow" way marked out by the church.

Breathing though the nose is the only proper way to sleep. If you awake in the night and find your mouth open get up and shut it. --Tomaqua Recorder.

  "Won't you try to love me?" he pleaded. "No Mr. Adams, I cannot," she answered. "
  "I am not over-strong, and my physician has advised me not to do too much." -- Vogue.

[side 3]

We (the associate editor) went to a neighboring town one day recently to procure No. 14 black annealed wire.

Applying at a prominent hardware store we found the price was 12 cents a pound -- 10 cents by the hundred pounds.

We at once concluded that too many profits had been added to the first cost of such wire and that we might have to go home and bind our fences with bailing rope, twisted cornstalks or rawhide, but irquiring elsewhere we found the merchant anxious to sell us all the wire we wanted of the same size and quality at five cents a pound. Now 100% difference in the price of the same article in the same town sets us "all to thinkin" and we are puzzled as to whether the first merchant over charged, or the other under charged, or -- or -- what?

The following question and answer we clip from the New York World:

Is it true that before cholera or any other epidemic disease breaks out in a city that all the birds go away?     M. C.

This phenomenon has been noted many times and commented upon. The correspondent of The World called attention to the fact that this common idea was borne out by the facts last fall when the cholera broke out in Hamburg. Not a bird was to be seen in that city for weeks before the cholera was declared epidemic.

If you want a pair of boots or shoes that will exactly suit you as to price, quality and fit, go to Tayler, the Foot-fitter, Medford, Oregon. If you can't get suited there, you may as well give it up and go barefoot or wear moccasins the balance of your life.

"What is that mother -- that curious thing
Ambling the streets with a languid swing;
With a spiketail coat, a fancy vest,
An eye-glass dangling on its breast;
With dog-skin gloves and funny hat
And such poor, thin legs and a stomach flat?
Eerie and weird it looks to me.
Oh, mother, what can the creature be?"

"Oh, hush, child, hush! 'tis no goblin rude --
'Tis only a harmless stage-door dude."

"But what is a dude, oh, mother dear?
How did they make a thing so queer?
Did it grow while we were fast asleep
Like the little billygoats or the sheep?
Has Barnum got on in his great show?
When it rains or snows where does a dude go?
It walks like a chicken -- can it fly?
Will you tell me about it by-and-bye?

"There's little to tell my child; I think
It's Darwin's original Missing Link."
                                 -- To-Day.

A blue cross on the margin of the paper indicates that your subscription has expired. A prompt renewal cheereth ye editor muchly.

"The Whitehall Times gives a somwhat circumstantial account of an enterprising agriculturalist, with much economy of type:

There is a farmer who is Y's
  Enough to take his E's,
And study nature with his I's
  And think of what he C's.

He hears the chatter of the J's
  As they each other T's,
And Z's that when a tree D K's
  It makes a home for B's.

A pair of oxen he will U's
  With many haws and G's,
And their mistakes he will X Q's
  While plowing for his P's.

In raising crops, he all X L's,
  And therefore little O's,
And when he hoes his soil by spells
  He also soils his hose."

Baptist Church -- Baptist services will be held on the 2nd and 4th Sundays in each month, morning and evening; Rev. A. J. Stevens, pastor.

Methodist services on the 1st and 3rd Sundays, morning and evening; rev. Dr. Kahler, pastor.

Endeavor Society every Sunday evening;
Bible class and prayer meeting Thursday evening of each week.

Dunkard Church -- Services on the 1st and 3rd Sundays of each month, morning and evening, Rev David Brower, pastor.

"I say, Pat are you asleep?"  "Darn the sleep!"  "Then be after lendin me a quarther?"  "Fast asleep, be jabers!"

[side 4]
Talent Or.          June  15th,   1893.

S. H. Dunlap and family have moved to Talent.

Mrs. Mary Low is teaching school in Upper Trail creek district.

Andrew Allen, a 9 year old son of John Allen of Talent, fell from a fence a few days ago , dislocating an elbow.

Several new fonts of job type just arrived at the News office. If you want job printing done, don't fail to call around.

Champ Payne Jr. was received into Talent Baptist church by baptism last Sunday, Rev. A. J. Stevens officiating.

Mrs. Frank Elliot and Mrs. Boyd Robison left last Monday for Redding, Cal. on a short visiting tour.

S. Sherman is preparing to move a large, frame building standing in the rear of the restaurant to the street and remodel it into a public hall. A good idea.

Joseph Robison has fully decided to have his leg amputated. It has troubled him very much of late and it is feared that blood poisoning will set in. Drs. Pryce and Geary are to perform the operation in a day or two.

Place your subscriptions with the Ashland News Stand for any paper or magazine published on earth or anywhere else.

Hasty will haste to get 'em and save you cost of money order and postage.

Walter Garvin had a narrow escape last Sunday by being thrown from a horse that had become unmanageable and was running at full speed. He was severely bruised about the head and face, but not dangerously hurt.

We took a look through Weeks Bros.' furniture factory at Phoenix recently and were surprised to see the excellent work they are turning out. They are thoroughly skilled mechanics and have had long experience in the furniture business.

Out attention was especially attracted to a set of bar fixtures for a hotel in Grants Pass, which for ornamental carving and general elegance of design and finish excels anything of the kind we have seen on the coast. This elaborate specimen of their workmanship will be worth $250. All who are in want of anything in the furniture line at very reasonable prices should give them a call.

The muscular discussion that the Central Point News man had recently with the Economy Flour Bin Co., is a pointer for country editors in general. It has convinced us that we had better lose no time in getting on the good side of the E. F. B. Co. So here goes. We advise everybody to buy the patent flour bin.

You can't get along without one. Then keep it full of flour and peace will reign in your household. How people got along before the Economy Flour Bin was invented, we are at a loss to conjecture.

Its name alone ought to commend it to the public. If everybody would buy an Economy Flour Bin, enough money would be saved in a year to pay off the national debt. Then such sales would place the E. F. B. Co in a fair financial condition. They, of course, would be benevolent and help out the community.

Buy at once. If you have an old-fashioned flour bin move it the the woodshed and fill it will millfeed. Remember our foredads were poor; they had no patent flour bins. Then think of the enormous quantities of time, tin and talent used up by the inventor before he got the bin to perfection! Don't delay.

We would be willing to insert now and then, complimentary notices like the above and -- take it in flour bins.


                 IN EXCHANGE




[Index of available issues]