The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1915-09-23

the rest in exchange. We cannot. of
course. have the sea coast form the
boundary line of every State in the
Union, but if we could have in Spring.
field as much of the sea coast as you
have in Belfast, who is there who would
not want to live and die and after death
to be buried here.
Northport; pardon me, Bayside, is
truly beautiful. Some of it is more beau.
tiful than 1t used to be, but some of it less
so. The cottages are too close together
for the quiet and rest of the beautiful
summer time by the sea: the foliage
little too dense, at least for foggy and
rainy season like the season of 1915.
The people of Belfast. How many of
these who were once so dear to me, now
''sleep the sleep which knows no wax
ing" or rather let US hope have enter
ed into the experience of the larger life
to which the present is but preparation
and an introduction. Many Of their names
| hold, and ever shall hold, in lovinglre-
membrance, for they were friends tried
and true.
A special treat it was to spend few
hours in the company of my dear friend
of many years past, Pastor Felix and his
devoted wife at Winterport, and to visit
with my dear friends, Rev. D. B. Phelan
and his aimable wife at Rockport. They
were joined in marriage by the writer
thirty years ago. The same day met
two other couples whom | had united in
bonds of matrimony in 1877 at Thomas
ton, to which place made hurried trip
over the electric road which runs from
Camden to Thomaston, and from thence l
did not inquire, as this was the terminus
of my journey in this direction.
Leaving Belfast at noon on the 18th of
August, l arrived at Eastport at 8 clock
the same night. Here was met by an
other of my old-time friends, who took
me to his home and introduced me as
"Mr. JONES' friend of his. but the
plaster was too thin, and was heartily
saluted by my own name. 'How do you
do Bro. W." The anticipations of my
visit at Eastport were cut short owing to
the rain and fogwhich rendered any out of
doors engagements altogether impracti-
cable. Here, too, many of our old-time
friends of 35 years ago we learned had
crossed over into the border land, but it
was pleasant to be so kindly greeted by
the few dear friends who remained.
PASSPORT had grown much since the time
of our residence there and many sub
stantia improvements have taken place,
including the Washington County R. R.
From Eastport we journeyed to Houl-
ton by way of Calais and st. Stephens.
At Houlton we were met by another
long time and very dear friend, j. @.
Adams. In company with his wife we
had met them for the first time in 1871,
and through all the intervening years
occasional letters have been exchanged
between us. Old times and scenes were
lived over again as if they had occurred
but yesterday. How strange it is that
the scenes and events of forty years ago,
some more, some less, come back to US
with all the freshness of spring time.
This was true of every place visited IN
my trip. In not a few cases could tell
my different guides of one thing and an
other which they had temporarily forgot
ten: things which were as evident to me
as if could see them with my own eyes.
In all our talk of Belfast and its people
there were only two persons whose per-
sonality l could not recall. What an in
estimable blessing is the storehouse of
memory. How vividly it throws the pic
lures of past events, persons and scenes,
upon the canvas, and how profitable and
pleasant visit becomes to you when it
brings only pleasant things to mind. and
how good you feel when one after an
other runs to greet you as dear and
trusted friend. If you have passed
through sorrow, they weep with you. If
you have been successful, they rejoice.
In my trip met with many who, like my
scll, udu III ain uCcp al 10 lie GUY
of sorrow. We had passed through many
of the varying experiences of life, but
there was tie which bound us together
in sympathetic bonds.
Houlton represented the farthest point
North and East, and from this point we
retraced our steps slowly westward. The
few remaining days we spent in Maine
were spent in the hospitable home of the
Misses Frye in Montville. had known
them many years before. Here, too, l
visited the graves of Rev. George Pratt
, and his wife, both of whom heartily well
coined me to their home when was a
) stranger in strange land in the month
of May, 1871. During my visit here l
: climbed once more the Frye mountain
and was rewarded with dim glimpse of
, Mt. Washington and Mt. Katahdin, as
, well as the blue hills lying way off in the
, distance. 1t was indeed a rare treat to
stand upon the top of this mountain and
) look out upon the vast expanse spread
; out before you.
AS the limit had been reached of the