|JACOB BEESON BLAIR, who has been recently renominated as associate
justice of the Supreme Court of Wyoming, and judge of the second
judicial district, with his headquarters at this place, is one of the
most able and consistent officials that Wyoming ever had. I might go
further and say that he stands at the head of them all. A year ago,
as an evidence of his popularity, I will say that he was unanimously
nominated to represent the Territory in Congress, which nomination he
gracefully declined. He has put his spare capital into mines, and
shown that he is a resident of Wyoming, and not of the classic halls of
Washington, or the sea-beat shores of "Maryland, my Maryland."
Two years ago I had the pleasure of making a trip to the mines on
Douglas creek, or, as it was then called, Last Chance, in company with
Judge Blair and Delegate Downey, owners of the Keystone gold mine in
that district. The party also included Governor Hoyt, Assayer Murphy,
Postmaster Hayford, and several other prominent men. Judge Brown and
Sheriff Boswell were also in the party at the mine. Judge Blair is,
by natural choice, a Methodist, and renewed our spiritual strength
throughout the trip in a way that was indeed pleasant and profitable.
The Judge sings in a soft, subdued kind of a way that makes the walls of
the firmament crack, and the heavens roll together like a scroll. When
he sings--=
```How tedious and tasteless the hours
````When Jesus no longer I see,=
the coyotes and jack-rabbits within a radius of seventy-five miles, hunt
their respective holes, and remain there till the danger has passed.
Looking at the Judge as he sits on the bench singeing the road agent for
ten years in solitary confinement, one would not think he could warble
so when he gets into the mountains. But he can. He is a regular prima
donna, so to speak.
When he starts to sing, the sound is like an Æolian harp, sighing
through the pine forests and dying away upon the silent air. Gradually
it swells into the wild melody of the hotel gong.