itself of the condition of the times—in a community where everyone's private affairs and personal name were known to every inhabitant—to coin amusing and even offensive titles for opponents.
Bush, for instance, was often "bushey" in the Oregonian, "Ass of Hell" Bush in the Argus, while the Argus was the "Air Goose" in the Statesman, and Thomas Jefferson Dryer, a Whig and Republican with that fine old Democratic name, was on occasion "Toddy Jep" in the Statesman's derisive paragraphs.
On one occasion in this glorious period of personal journalism a reporter on one of the papers was convicted of burglary—undertaken, it seems, as a sort of avocation to piece out a somewhat meagre income, and not as a part of his regular duties on the paper. The rival editor, however, with the customary editorial courtesy, explained that the man's confession had not "as yet" involved his editor.
On another occasion, as told to this writer by Dr. Joseph Schafer of Madison, Wis., formerly head of history in the University of Oregon faculty, Adams had been particularly waspish in his references to the Statesman editor. Picking up the paper, Bush wrote on the margin, "Send this paper to hell." The next week the Argus, with mock solmnity, chronicled the death of Asahel Bush.
Mr. Thurston had had no idea of encouraging the Oregon style, and one wonders how it would have thrived if he had lived to exert his influence over his young editor. In one of his last letters to Bush, dated January 27, 1851, less than three months before his death, Delegate Thurston had written:
The Statesman will go ahead; you and I have warm fighting friends. In your first number, in a dignified manner, state that I have no control or influence whatever over the paper and that I will be no further respected or supported than any other good Democrat. . . That Thornton (J. Quinn Thornton, prominent in Oregon politics) is a snake in the grass. Treat him as all my enemies, with respect and courtesy, as I alone am competent to attend to their cases. I desire you to be entangled with nothing further, think the case is made by the interest of the party. Be extremely careful to have your paper dignified with chaste and gentlemanly language. . .
Mr. Thurston died without having a chance to observe his Oregon City editor's concept of what was chaste and gentlemanly in language. One may wonder how he would have regarded this, for instance, which the Statesman editor included in his editorial matter in the third issue of the paper, April 11, 1851 (Thurston's death had occurred two days before):
