The Tomahawk., 1917-06-14

that is the end Of it, and Of them.
And yet I have had experiences here
here, in this very room, at this very
desk, that-but wait. Let me put it
down in black and white, in words SIM
pie and unmistakable. Let me ask
some questions. Who mislays my pen?
That is what desire to know. Who
uses up my ink so rapidly? Not l.
And yet the ink goes.
The answer to these questions would
settle all the enigmas Of the universe.
I know the answer. am not fool.
And some day, If I am plagued too des-
perately, I shall give the answer my
self. I shall give the name Of him
who mislays my pen and uses up my
ink. It is so silly to think that could
use such a quantity Of ink. The serv-
ant lies, know.
have got me fountain pen. have
always disliked the device, but my old
stub had to go. I burned it in the
fireplace. The ink keep under lock
and key. I shall see If cannot put
stop to these lies that are being writ
ten about me. And have other plans.
It is not true that have recanted.
still believe that live in mechanical
universe. It has not been proved 9TH
erwise to me, for all that have peered
over his shoulder and read his mali
cious statement to the contrary. He
gives me credit for no less than aver
age stupidity. He thinks I think he
is real. How silly. I know he Is
brain-fgment, nothing more.
There are such things as hallucina-
lions. Even as I looked over his shout
der and read, knew that this was
such thing. If I were only we'll 1t
would be interesting. All my life l
have wanted to experience such phe-
nomena. And now it has come to me.
I shall make the most Of it. What is
Imagination? It can make something
where there is nothing. How can any
thing be something where there Is
nothing? How can anything be some
thing and nothing ut the same time?
leave it for the NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. to
ponder. I know better. No scholast1cs
for me. This is real world and ev-
erything in it is real. What is not real
is not. Therefore he is not. Yet he
tries to fool me into believing that he
is-when all the time I know he has
no existence outside of my own brain
cells.
saw him today, seated ut the desk,
writing. 1t gave me quite shock, be-
cause I had thought he was quite dis
PEELED. Nevertheless, on looking stead
ily, found that he was not there-the
old familiar trick Of the brain. have
dwelt too long on what has happened.
am becoming morbid, and my old In
digestion is limiting and muttering. 1
shall take exercise. Each day shall
walk for two hours.
It is impossible. I cannot exercise.
Each time I return from my walk, he
is sitting in my chair at my desk. 1t
grows more difficult to drive him away.
It IS nv chair. Upon this insist. It
was his, but he is dead. and 1t Is no
longer his. How can one be fooled by
the phantoms of his own imagining
There is nothing real in his apparition.
know it. am firmly grounded with
my fifty years of study. The dead are
dead.
And yet, explain one thing. Today
before going for my walk, I carefully
put the fountain pen in my pocket be-
fore leaving the room. I remember 1t
distinctly. I looked at the clock at the
time. 1t was 10 20. Yet on my return
there was the pen lying on the desk.
Someone had been using it. There
was very little ink left. I wish he
would not write so much. 1t Is discon-
certing.
There is one thing upon which Jim
and I were not quite agreed. He be-
lieved in the eternity Of the forms OF
things. Therefore, there entered in I'M
mediately the consequent belief in i'm
mortality and all the other notions OF
the metaphysical philosophers. I had
little patience with him in this. Pains
takingly have traced to him the evo-
luton Of his belief in the eternity
forms, showing him how it has arisen
out of his early infatuation with logic
and mathematics. OF course, from
that warped, squirting, abstract view
point, it Is very easy to believe in the
eternity of forms.
laughed at the unseen world. Only
the real was real, contended, and
what one could not perceive, was not,
could not be. believed in mechan-
ical universe. Chemistry and physics
explained everything. "Can no being
be?" he demanded in reply. I said
that his question was but the major
premise of fallacious Christian Sci
ence syllogism. Oh, believe me, knew
my logic, too. But he was very stub
born. I never had any patience with
philosophic idealists.
Once I made to him my confession OF
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