ten cents a pound. Everybody had all they could eat, and the best in the market, and no notes coming due in bank to worry about. Now choice steaks are thirty cents a pound, and venison and pheasants are reserved for millionaires and other favored of the earth.
But this book must not overlook Mrs. Quinn, the faithful helpmeet that made John a rich man. Several years after the Quinns had got all the business they could handle, and Mrs. Quinn was still cutting away in her spotless white apron, an old friend and customer said to her. "And don't you get tired of this job, Mrs. Quinn?" "Oh yes," she replied, "it is not a beautiful job to be sure, but I am going to stay right here at this block until I make twenty thousand dollars and then I'll quit and get myself the finest silk dress ever brought to this city." The story passed around the town and everybody had their little joke and laugh, but the Quinns held on the even tenor of their way. One morning Mrs. Quinn was absent from the shop and a man was at her block. The story of the twenty thousand dollars was recalled, and before noon of that day, Mrs. John Quinn appeared at the first department store of the city of Portland then kept at the southeast corner of First and Washington streets by Clark, Henderson & Cook, the predecessors of the Lipman, Wolf & Co. store. She was radiant with smiles, and evidently a happy woman. As she entered the store one of the proprietors, Mr. Vincent Cook, came forward to wait on her and jokingly inquired if she had made that twenty thousand dollars yet. The response was quick and hearty, "Yes I have," and the reply was "then you want that silk dress." "That's what I've come for." Mr. Cook was equal to the occasion—in fact "Vint" Cook was always equal to any occasion—and, keeping in mind the reputation of his house, replied: "I've been keeping a piece of silk for you for some time. It's the finest piece of silk ever brought to this city," placing it on the counter, "and there never will be as good a piece of silk brought to Portland again, for I can tell you confidentially, this silk was made to order for the empress of China or some other empress—just look at it," as he unrolled it, "it will stand on end like a row of salmon barrel staves." "How much must I have," said the delighted customer. "Well," says the merchant, "you're a fine large lady that will become this fine goods, I think twenty yards would not be any too much." And so twenty yards were cut off and paid for. "Now," says Mr. Cook, "I could well afford to give you that dress, Mrs. Quinn, for I've learned something from you." "What's that," replied the lady? "Well, it's just this, if you and John Quinn can make twenty thousand dollars in this fish business in a few years, I think I can make something at it myself, and I will sell out here and go into the fish business." And he did sell out and joined his brother James in packing salmon, and made his million.
This is but a sample story in the life and growth of this far western city. It illustrates much of this life and growth, and it is just as necessary to this history as any account of the growth of ocean commerce or development of railway transportation.
THE EXPRESS BUSINESS.
Transportation interests in building up the city commenced of course with the first ships that tied up to the oak trees growing along the river front from Jefferson street down to Hoyt street. And without this great builder of cities and nations there would have been no Portland. But along with this chief agency, came other and minor elements of growth, which deserve recognition. The express business to Portland came in on board the first steamship that tied up to the Portland water front, in the person of an express messenger. But no permanent office was established in the city until 1852, when "The Adams Express Company" opened an office here and continued in business until the advent of Wells Fargo & Company in 1853, when the field was abandoned to the latter company. There were on the overland route between Oregon and California
