When I first read the term “county seat” I wondered whether these were thrones or rather more modest accommodations.

Recliners, perhaps, similar to the one in the family room of my childhood home.

(Similar in form, anyway. I didn’t envision recliners that, like ours, was upholstered in a shade of orange that no citrus fruit has ever been, or ever should be except as a result of an accident involving toxic waste. Americans’ affinity for slathering headache-inducing colors on all sorts of household items in the 1970s remains to me inexplicable. Did people really fancy seeing every day a countertop that looked as though a dehydrated dog had an accident on it, or vinyl flooring that appeared to be the scene of an explosion involving avocados?)

It puzzled me that each of Oregon’s 36 counties had only one of these seats.

Who, I pondered, was allowed to sit there?

I was just a boy, perhaps 8 or 9, so I think my naivete can be excused.

Children struggle to recognize linguistic nuance, of course.

They believe in all sorts of implausible fantasies, accepting as truth the source of Christmas gifts and Easter candy, for instance.

Yet kids can also be as literal, in some ways, as a cynical adult.

When I read “seat” so many years ago I assumed, given my limited familiarity with the word’s definitions, that it must in all cases refer to a place where you take a rest.

(Or were confined to when you acted up, as I was sometimes wont to do. When my parents or my teacher told me to sit down, there was no confusion about what I was supposed to do, or where.)

Eventually I came to understand that a county seat is the town where the county’s government offices are based. Where you go to find the sheriff or to pay your property taxes or to serve on a jury.

Somewhere along the way I read for the first time one of Oregon’s great books, a volume I consider indispensable for anyone who cares about the state.

This is “Oregon Geographic Names,” by Lewis A. McArthur (the father) and Lewis L. McArthur (the son).

First published in 1928, this volume, which like many things became rather more corpulent as it aged, is the ultimate reference for how places in Oregon got their names. Or at least a selection of amusing theories, some of which might even be true.

The more than 6,200 entries in the most recent edition — the seventh, released in 2003 — include towns and mountains, rivers and reservoirs.

And, of course, counties and their seats.

I would on occasion while away an hour or so leafing through “Oregon Geographic Names.” Its format is ideal for browsing, the literary version of a carefree stroll. Because the book is neither a novel with a plot nor a nonfiction narrative, it is equally pleasant to start perusing on any page, if there isn’t a particular place that prompted you to pick up the volume.

The McArthurs introduced me to Oregon’s county seats. In many cases there is nothing surprising about the choice, as the county seat is the most populous settlement — often by a large margin.

Portland, naturally, is the county seat for Multnomah. Salem is the county seat for Marion, and Eugene for Lane.

Baker County’s situation might seem similarly mundane. Baker City, which is home to about 60% of the county’s population, is the county seat.

The history, though, is more interesting.

Baker City isn’t the original county seat.

Indeed it wasn’t even a city when the Oregon Legislature created Baker County (carving it out of Wasco County) on Sept. 22, 1862.

The only town then was Auburn, the center of the gold rush precipitated by Henry Griffin’s discovery of gold on Oct. 23, 1861, in the gulch that still bears his name.

(Griffin Gulch is just a couple miles southwest of Baker City; Auburn was platted several miles away, along Blue Canyon.)

Auburn’s status was short-lived.

As miners collected the easily gathered placer gold relatively rapidly, Auburn’s prominence, and population, began to dwindle in favor of the upstart town at the southern edge of the Powder River Valley.

Although Baker City wasn’t incorporated until 1874 — hence the 150th birthday celebration in August — the city was platted in 1865, its post office was established in 1866, and voters in the fledgling county decided in 1868 to make Baker City the county seat.

But the largest city isn’t always the county seat.

In 2008, in recognition of Oregon’s birthday on Feb. 14, I published in the Herald a brief quiz about the state’s history. One of the questions was to name the eight counties, out of Oregon’s 36, in which the county seat isn’t the biggest city by population.

That question is no longer valid.

The number of counties that can make that claim is now nine, not eight.

As of the 2010 U.S. Census, Umatilla County joined the list. That was the first federal census in which Hermiston (16,745) had more residents than Pendleton (16,612).

Since then Hermiston has extended its lead.

In the 2020 Census the city had 19,354 residents. Pendleton’s total was 17,107.

Among the eight other counties in which the biggest city isn’t the county seat, Grant County, Baker’s neighbor to the west and southwest, has a history which bears similarities.

Both counties were started relatively soon after a major gold strike — 1862, in Grant County’s case, a year after Griffin saw the telltale glint in his pan.

The legislature created Grant County in 1864, and Canyon City, then one of the biggest cities in Oregon, rivaled by Auburn and by Portland, was chosen as the county seat.

As in Baker County, though, a nearby town outpaced the original settlement in population. In Grant County the upstart is John Day.

The transition wasn’t as abrupt as in Baker County, to be sure, where Auburn was fading less than a decade after its founding.

In Grant County, John Day’s population didn’t surpass Canyon City’s until the 1930 Census.

Yet even though John Day has had at least twice the number of residents as Canyon City since 1940, and at times triple the population, Canyon City has remained the county seat.

The seven other counties where the county seat doesn’t have the most residents:

• Clackamas — Oregon City is the county seat, Lake Oswego the most populous city (a small part of Lake Oswego is in neighboring Multnomah County).

• Coos — Coquille is the county seat, Coos Bay the most populous city.

• Curry — Gold Beach is the county seat, Brookings the most populous city.

• Malheur — Vale is the county seat, Ontario the most populous city.

• Morrow — Heppner is the county seat, Boardman the most populous city.

• Polk — Dallas is the county seat, Salem the most populous city (as with Lake Oswego, Salem is divided between two counties, Polk and Marion).

• Sherman — Moro is the county seat, Wasco the most populous city.

One thing hasn’t changed since my 2008 quiz — in four counties the county seat not only isn’t the most populous city, it doesn’t even rank second, but rather third.

Grant County is a member of that quartet. Canyon City, with an estimated 2023 population of 687, trails both John Day (1,704) and Prairie City (861).

The three others:

• Coos: County seat Coquille, with a population of 4,052, is smaller than both Coos Bay (16,533) and North Bend (10,769).

• Malheur: County seat Vale, with 1,947 residents, finishes behind both Ontario (12,206) and Nyssa (3,363).

• Morrow: County seat Heppner, home to 1,211 people, also places third, trailing Irrigon (2,133) and Boardman (4,437).

Unique among Oregon counties is Crook.

There is no competition for the county seat because Crook County has but one incorporated city — Prineville.

Four counties have just two incorporated cities.

• Lake: Lakeview (county seat), Paisley.

• Hood River: Hood River (county seat), Cascade Locks.

• Josephine: Grants Pass (county seat), Cave Junction.

• Harney: Burns (county seat), Hines.