J. Archibald McKackney
a situation ashore made him desert his pots and pans with cries of joy. Gaining assurance from these early successes Wilkins left the water front for more conventional regions and was routed in confusion for the first time in his dashing career. While crossing the Common there approached him a slim and very erect gentleman with a pompous dignity of bearing. He carried a bundle of books under one arm, and seemed absorbed in weighty reflections. Wilkins appraised him as a person of intellectual distinction and thrilled with pleasure as he stared at the trim, brown "vandyke" which appeared to have been tended with scrupulous care. In a letter to me Wilkins wrote:
"I wished you had given me a tuning fork to try them out, Commodore, but this high-browed party struck me as a perfect specimen of Number Five and properly sound and seasoned. I thought I'd just put it to him as man to man. So I braced up to him with a most respectful apology, and tried to tell him that as I felt sure that he would be willing to