Page:History of Oregon Literature.djvu/217

 Twenty-one days is the utmost limit that we have ever known the ground covered with snow; and in our long residence in Oregon we have never known the thermometer down to zero but once. In the noted cold winter of '48-49 the mercury stood four degrees above ezro on the coldest day....

During what is termed a "mild winter," we are blessed with a clear sky and a warm sunshine, perhaps one half the time from the first of Nov. to the first of April, which embraces the Oregon winter, or "rainy season." As a general thing, we may look out for rain such as raised the streams in the time of Noah, "about this time." We had heard so much in the states about Oregon "mists" that wouldn't wet a laborer's shirt sleeves through in a whole day, that after we came here we neglected digging our potatoes for a time or two, till after the "mist" set in, thinking it would be pleasanter to encounter the cooling mist than the hot sun. We thought our experience wasn't quite equal to the "anticipation," as all day long we waddled through the mud, determined to save our "murphies," although the cold rain fell on our bended back at such a rate that it only took about ten minutes for the old "swallow fork," that served as a roof, to convey enough water down into our boots to take up what room there was vacant. That took about a gallon; for in that early day we were all dependent upon the Hudson's Bay Company for boots, shoes, and other clothing. This, it was said, was all made up in England, by Dr. McLaughlin's measure, and sent over here with the express understanding that no body should go naked for not being able to get into the boots and breeches. This, by the way, was a benevolent idea, which would hardly ever have got into a Yankee merchant's head. Now as we weigh something less than 140 lbs., and the "good old English gentleman" exceeds 200 lbs., it may be guessed what a figure we cut, "cum-digin-a-taty," in a pair of the Dr.'s boots and a pair of heavy English corduroys made up after his pattern.—At all events we have a very distinct recollection of trying to straighten up occasionally,