s; Mr.
Burns declaring he felt some difficulty in discovering the bumps under
the "back hair."

CHAPTER XXXVI.

A SPIRITUAL PICNIC.

In a volume bearing the title of _Mystic London_ it would seem perchance
that Spiritualism, as par excellence the modern mystery, should stand
first. I have thought it better, however, to defer its treatment
somewhat, working up to it as to a climax, and then gently descending to
mundane matters once more ere I close my present work.

Of London at this hour, just as of Rome in the later Republic and
Empire, it may be safely affirmed that there is in its midst an element
of the mysterious and occult utterly undreamed of by the practical
people. Many phases of this element have already been treated of in my
different works; and I add some of the more exceptional as properly
belonging to my present subject.

Now I candidly confess that, up to a recent date, I had not given
Spiritualists--qua spiritualists--credit for being a cheerful or
convivial people. Though there exist upon the tablets of my memory
recollections of certain enjoyable dinners, cosy teas, and charming
petits soupers, eaten at the mahogany of believers in the modern
mystery, yet these were purely exceptional events, oases in the desert
of spiritualistic experiences. Generally speaking, the table, instead of
groaning under its accumulated bounties, leapt about as if from the
absence thereof; and the only adjuncts of the inhospitable mahogany were
paper tubes for the spirit voices, handbells for the spirit hands, and
occasional accordions and musical boxes for the delectation of
harmonious ghosts. It was a "flow of soul" if not always a "feast of
reason;" but, as regarded creature comforts, or any of the ordinary
delights of mundane existence, a very Siberian desert. A grave subject
of discussion (I am not, I assure you, indulging in a sepulchral pun) at
the recent Liverpool Conference was how to feed mediums, and I fancy the
preponderating opinion was that fasting was a cardinal virtue in their
case--a regimen that had come to be in my mind, perhaps unfairly,
associated with seances in general. I was glad, therefore, when I read
in the columns of the _Medium_ the announcement of the spiritual picnic
or "demonstration," at the People's Garden, Willesden. Still I wanted to
see Spiritualists enjoy themselves in the "normal condition." I
sympathized with the avowed object of the gathering, that the followers
of the