The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1908-08-27
Written for The Republican Journal. !
A GeOmetriCaI Incident.
A TRUE STORY.


whom it could be that | had failed tC
recognize, for had returned to the lit.
tie summer colony on the little Maine
1 island with heart full of greetings to
the dear people there, and l wondered
it once more the tongue had failed to
say what the heart had warmly felt
Two years wandering half a world
away" had only deepened my affection
for the rocky, sea beaten island, and |
thought each bit of floating sea weed
and each sweet wild-rose had found its
mirror in my thoughts.
Did | remember him? A grey, griz.
zled old man, with brown face and hon
est, reliable, kindly blue eyes,-loosely
fitting clothes, comfortable old straw
hat, and in the left lapel of the navy
blue flannel coat the bronze button of
the Grand Army. Not an unusual type
anywhere in New England, and in the
coast towns of the Pine Tree State the
description fits hundred old shipping
masters whose lives ashore are .as color.
less as the fogs of their native waters,
and whose main excitement is "wheth-
er the winds goin' to shift" know
them and l love them.
But in that rapid psychological pro-
cess OF classification which we expert
ence i'll fraction of a second, failed
to place the speaker in that list,-then
suddenly enlightenment came and | re-
membered him, remembered the long
wait on the wet little wharf of the
strange island, two years before, when
in the ghostly grey of the drenching
fog we had each felt glad of the pres
ence of another human being, and had
sat together on biscuit box chatting
like old friends, while we listened for
the Staunch little steamer which would
take US clown the Reach" to the
dauntleSs white tower with it's brave,
bright light.
Out in the world, and of it suppose,
l had never given a conscious thought
to my friend of the fog since we had
parted. | had learned that, despite his
seafaring look, he was not of that type.
Living in the village which has given
to the shipping world one-tenth of all
captains of merchantmen sailing under
the American Flag, perhaps he had alb
sorbed the local color and cult, though
he himself was the long time teacher
of the village high school, college
graduate and an Interesting combina-
tion OF rural conservatism and lnteilec-
tual breadth.
DO you recollect our conversation
that day." he asked ME somewhat
abruptly, after our mutual greetings.
Did |! Again the search among trag-
ments of half forgotten experiences IN
that treacherons memory OF mine.
Because had "A strange thing hap.
| pen to me after | met you, ma am, and
| Just along that line we talked about,
mental telepathy, 1t was, you know, -
| and then | knew and II you've got
time ia like to tell you. or course
| had time: there always is time III that
| lotuS-land of Maine, 50 down we sat on
the porch of the post office general
rendezvous, having the place quite TO
| ourselves,-for breeze was darkening
1.-The Reach and the yacntsmen, both
of the piazza and the practical sorts,
who had lounged about, faute de
| mieuX. were gathering Water-WardS.
The comfortable old straw hat was
dropped to the floor, and pulling a
spray from the woodbine wreaths that
| hung swinging beside us my friend be-
gan his story:
81 don't know what made me want
| to tell you, ma'am, for I've never men
toned it to soul, except mother,-but
when it all happened l said to myself,
| if | only knew where that little lady
was I'd write her all about it. / guess
you're one of the sympathetic kind,
and you must excuse me if it's bother
to you''. How could it be bother to
me. sitting on that dear little porch,
on that dear little island, the honest,
earnest old man beside me with his
story. and before my eyes the sapphire
Reech, and the Country OF the Pointed
FRS. And so he went on unlnterrupt-
| ed:
81 don't knows you know, but Prof.
| Parke-" mentioning a well known
man. who occupies the chair of math-
! ematlcs in foremost Eastern college,
and as this is true story | change the
names.-Prof. Parke has always been a
great friend of mine. | knew him
when he was a poor boy, working
hard't anything came along, hoping by
and by he'd see his way clear to get
an education. Well, I'd had advanta-
ges. | was considerably older'n he,
and | gave him his first start in mathe-
MATES. | offered to teach him any
time he'd come round and son that
way in a few years, before most the
| folks knew anything about lt,-Parke
was ready to 60 to college, every way
except money. Well p'-,this half shy
| ly,-tsI was doing we'll and had no fam
| lily utpoullllS vi ulC, anu Weso 6i''1 W
help him,-now Pm only telling you all
this, ma'am, to explain why in all these
years Parke's felt he was so beholden
to me, for he's paid it back, many and
many's the time, only he always thinks
| it isn't squared, it's his thankful way
His thankful way, to appreciate the
| favor and the friendship that started
him on his career of success and tame
as authority in his chosen professlon,-
not too common a way, more's the pity.
"Well, year ago this last June, L
vas sitting in my room at home, LOOK
ing out into the orchard, trees all IN
bloom, and ] guess Twas thinking now
pretty it was, much as anything, when
| all of sudden | seemed to be looking
into room out there. l could see
trees and all, and yet in among them
room, strange one to me, too. There
was large library table in the middle
of the floor, good many books and
papers on it, and about a couple OF
| feet from the table a woman was sit
ting with some crocheting,-sometlllng
OF that kind, in her lap. Well, '-look-
ing at me keenly, to see ii | were in
creduous. 81 knew her in a minute,
twas Parke's wife; and not SO plain as
| could see her [ could see Parke,
farther on, with letter open in his
hand. She said, plains I'm speaking