The Republican journal., 1910-06-09
Charles Thombs, the then Chief of Police,

most picturesque swearer, was holding
Forth in his most lurid style when Mr.. CT
remarked: 'Charles don't swear So"
ON it," says Charles, which would
you prefer, to hear me swear or pray?
The reply was prompt: you know,
Charles, can't say anything to encour-
age profanity
Doct. P. P. Quimby, an uncle of mine
and father of ''Our George He was,
in my mind, without any doubt, the dis
coverer of so-called "Christian Science"
and had knowledge of the wonderful
power he possessed come to him earlier
in life, and with it the advantages of
more liberal education and environment,
he would have secured following which
would make Mother" Eddy look like
thirty cents. AS it is, the wonderful re-
suits he accomplished in his latter years
when for the first time he was so sit
uated that he could give his whole time
and thought to the healing of the halt,
the lame and the blind, show what
might have been, accomplished under
earlier and more favorable conditions.
The thing about him most impressed on
my boyish recollection were his wonder
full eyes; bright always, and full of an
intensity peculiarly their own. These
eyes have descended to granddaughter
of his and when | look into them l Won
der if the same mysterious power has
been transmitted with them.
William H. Simpson, for so long pro-
prietor and editor of the Republican
Journal" man with the true Journal
istic instinct, but contented to make the
best country weekly newspaper probably
ever published in Maine Indeed, doubt
if any weekly paper, other than those
running some specialties, like the Dan
bury News" was ever as extensively
quoted in the Metropolitan press as the
journal" Mr.. Simpsons comments
on the events Of the day in Waldo county,
his occasional lapses into poetry, and par
ticularly his Court reports, in which, as
recollect them, he was very strong,
would make, it seems to me, mighty in
teresting reading for the present gener-
alton, and | offer the suggestion to the
present owner of the paper and its files.
No "reminiscences of Belfast in the ff-
ties and sixties would be complete with
out some allusion to the veteran ''School-
marm," Miss Barns, who is now taking
her ease under her own wine and fig
tree very nearly on the site of the
little school house which was to so MANY
Belfast youths the first and original
Temple of learning While it is
hardly probable that her school, as re-
member it, would pass in the present
day Of fancy educational methods, she
certainly managed to instill deal of
knowledge into the rising generation,
and | believe that she maintained the
school until she had as pupils the children
of many of her former scholars.
| might go on in this desultory way, l
suppose, all night, unless you began to
throw things, but | am reminded that
others are to speak and that the last
train leaves at 11.05.
do want to say one word, however, in
another key. have spoken of the Bel
fast of my boyhood. How about the Bel
fast of today? When you visit it do you
feel as do, that there is something lack
ing; that it isn't all it should be? God
has done everything for it. Has man
done his share? For myself, | feel that
Belfast lacks that broad public spirit
that must exist if she is going to pro-
gress, or even hold her own. | mean the
spirit which will do things, even if the
other man doesn't do his share, or some
body else may stand to make more for
himself than is perhaps his equitable
SHal z. lac d IlSW uOlGl, 1OE instance.
think everybody in Belfast and out of
1t agrees that summer hotel is crying
need. Not hotel on the site of Pierce's
Block, or anywhere in the business sec
ton, but away as far, or farther, than
the Crosby Inn, attractive to the sum
mer visitors, so that when we revisit our
old home we may not exhaust the hospi-
tality OF our sisters, cousins and aunts,
Tpr ho
comfortable as we can be at Rockland,
Camden, Islesboro, Northport or Castine,
to say nothing of the more pretentious
and remote places in Maine. Now if our
good Belfast friends would treat this
question as they do some other things, it
would be settled. When, for instance,
has the ordinary citizen been found I'M
willing to leave his business for clam
bake at Northport or fishing party at
the Pond-where all the bait hasn' t been
carried in old tomato cans, without a
thought of what his business competitor
might make in his absence. Or to blow
in good money for base ball club, even
If the other fellows wouldn't give a cent?
Apply these same principles to hotel
building and it's done. Perhaps we, as
members of this new club, can do some
thing in our home visits to help on this
good work.
But with this little growl, which per-
haps had better have been left unsaid-
Belfast is the dear old home. If she has
any faults we overlook them, or only
bring them up for her good. To many,
perhaps all of US, she holds, either in the
small minority still in active business life,
or the great majority peacefully sleeping
IN that beautiful cemetery on the hill, with
It's Heaven-inspiring view Of mountain
and sea, the most that we hold dear, and
l feel that | cannot find a more fitting
closing than those words of Names
greatest poet with apologies to Major
Day.
Often l think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
OFTEN in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets Of that dear old town,
And my youth comes back to me.
And verse of Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still:
"A boys will is the winds will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long
thoughts"
Strange to me now are the forms meet
When visit the dear old town;
But the native air is pure and sweet,
And the trees that o'ershadow each we'll
known street,
AS they balance up and down,
Are singing the beautiful song,
Are signing and whispering still:
IA boys will is the winds will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long
thoughts"