Not long ago, there was seen in Pendleton a human freak which knocks the spots off any living skeleton or Chinese giant as a natural curiosity. It was an Indian child, of the Nez Perce tribe, with but one eye situated in the center of its forehead, like those of the fabled Cyclops. The child was able to see with ease, and ran about with as much freedom as any of its two-eyed companions. Two or three parties here were on the point of entering into negotiations to secure the freak when the Indians, who were bound on a hunting excursion, left for the mountains.


There is an old rooster in McMinnville who has got into the habit of proposing to the girls of that town, and has made an unmitigated nuisance of himself. He called on a fair damsel one day last week and poured his soul into her unwilling ear, declaring it better he were dead than to live without her. He then invited her, in his cracked voice, to become the companion of his declining years, the partner of his joys and sorrows, etc., etc. She wanted none of him, however, and she went out and got several chums. Together they tied the aged swain to a bed post and whaled him with a mop; then they combed his hair with a rake, put treacle and applejack on his old bald head, and played the hose on him. He is now seeking the aid of the law for protection against the ire of the festive McMinnville girl.

Originally published November 23, 1889 in The Mercury