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100 brought a message, "tell him that it is not for me to judge of his merits or of his title to speak, but say to him for me that when he shall have borne the burden and carried such honors as are attached to the leadership of journalism in this country for forty years, I will be disposed to concede to him a certain equality of privilege."

Again: There had come to Portland a man of some experience in minor journalism in a middle western town of the third class, making noisy announcement of his intention to establish a newspaper in rivalry with The Oregonian. It happened that I fell in with the newcomer and had a free talk with him Somewhere in the course of our conversation I said: "Mr. Blank, they tell me you are a Democrat; and may I ask to which wing of the party you belong? Are you a goldbug or a Bryanite?" "Well," he replied, "I never cross bridges until I come to them." A few hours later I reported this conversation to Mr. Scott with emphasis upon the significant reply. "Well," he said, as he strode up and down the room with his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, and in the deliberate manner which marked moods of amused satisfaction. "Well, so that's the measure of Brother Blank, is it? Well, I do suspect that this community has been fed on too strong meat to prove very hospitable to a journalistic dodger!"

Circumstances tended in multitudinous ways and for many years to exhibit and emphasize the importance of Mr. Scott's relations to the public. There was scarcely a day in which there did not come to him, either in the form of compliment or opposition, some tribute to his powers and to his place in the life of the state. A man of trivial mind, open to the besetments of vanity, would under these recurring influences have become a colossus of self-esteem. Mr. Scott indeed knew himself a factor in affairs, but he never lost himself in a fog of self-admiration. Oftentimes, when some visitor had paid extravagant compliments upon his work in general