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TALENT NEWS.
VOL. 2. TALENT, OREGON, DECEMBER 1st, 1893. No. 21.

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

SUBSCRIPTION RATES.
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.

O'er the range and down the gully across
  the river-bed,
We are riding on the trucks of the cattle
  that have fled.
The mopokes all are laughing, and the
  cockatoos are screaming,
And bright amidst the stringy-barks the
  parlakeets are gleaming!

The wattle-blooms are fragrant, and the
  great magnolias fair
Make a heavy, sleepy sweetness in the
  hazy morning air;
But the rattle and the crashing of our
  horses' hoofs ring out,
And the cheery shout we answer with our
  long repeated shout--

"Coo-ee-coo-ee-eee! Coo-ee-coo-ee-coo-ee
  coo-ee!"  
"Damnation Dick" he hears us, and he
  shrills back"Whoo-ee-ee!"
"Damnation Dick" the prince of native
  trackers thus we call,  
From the way he swigs his liquor and the
  oaths that he can squall!

Thro' more ranges thro' more gullies,
  down sun-scorch'd granite ways
We go crashing, slipping, thundering, in
  our joyous morning race--
And the drowsy 'possums shriek, and o'er
  each dried-up creek.
The wallabies run scuttling, as if playing
  hide-and-seek.

And like iron striking iron do our horses'
  hoofs loud ring
As down the barren granite slopes we leap
  and slide and spring;
Then one range further only and we reach
  a moment rein
Our steaming steeds, as wide before us
  stretches out the grassy plain!

And "Damnation Dick" comes running
  like a human kangaroo,
And he cries, "The herd have bolted to
  the creek of Waharoo!"
So we swing across the desert, and for
  miles and miles we go
Till men and horses pant athirst i' the
  fierce sun's firey glow.

And at last across the plains, where the
  kangaroos fly leaping,
And the startled emus in their flight go
  circulary sweeping.
We see the trees that hide the spring of
  Waharoo, and there
The cattle all are standing still -- the bulls
  with a fierce stare!

Then off to right goes Harry on his sorrel
  "Pretty Jane,"
And to the left on "Thunderbolt" Tom
  scores across the plain;
And Jim and I, well mounted, and on
  foot "Damnation Dick,"
Go straight for Warharoo; and our stock-
  whips fling and flick!

Ho! there goes old "Black Beetle," the
  patriarch of the herd!
His doughty courage vanished when Tom's
  long lash cracked and whirred;
And after him the whole lot flee, and
  homeward headlong dash--
What bellowing flight and thunder of
  hoofs, thro' the scrub we crash!

Back through the gum-tree gullies, and
  over the river-bed,
And past the sassafras ranges, whereover
  at dawn we sped;
With thunderous noise and shouting the
  drivers and driven flee--
And this was the race that was raced by
  Tom, Jim, Harry and me!

William Sharp.

I sit upon my ox team, calm,
  Beneath the lazy sky,
And crawl contented through the land
  And let the world go by.
The thoughtful ox has learned to wait
  And nervous impulse smother,
And ponder long before he puts
  One foot before the other.

And men with spanking teams pass by
  And dash upon their way,
As if it were their hope to find
  The world's end in a day.
And men dash by in palace cars,
  On me dark frowns they cast,
As the lightning-driven present frowns
  Upon the slow old past.

What do they chase, these men of steam,
  Their smoke-flags wide unfurled,
Pulled by the roaring fire-fiend
  That shakes the ruling world?
What do ye seek, ye men of steam
  So wild and mad you press?
Is this, is this the railroad line
  That leads to happiness?

And when you've swept across the day
  And dashed across the night
Is there some station through the hill
  Where men can find delight?
Ah, toward the depot of content
  Where no red signals stream,
I go by ox team just as quick
  As you can go by steam.

--Yankee Blade.

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