'd
bring it back with him. How them folks hundreds of milds away managed
to let me know they wuz thinkin' of me on paper, or how I knew these
friends wuz approachin' onbeknown to me, I don't know nor Josiah
don't.

"There wuzn't no U. S. stamp on these messages, nor earthly hands
didn't bring the tidin's of these visitors. No the post-masters and
messengers on that mysterious Route keep perfect silence as to where
they be, or who they be. But they are at work all the same, though who
they work for, or how they work, how can we tell? The strange rays of
light that flash through the darkness of dense bodies makin' visible
what has been onseen since the creation, hasn't discovered these
highways yet, mebby they will. The strange new air route messages that
travel acrost the stormy Atlantic may run right acrost these
mysterious highways," and for a minute my mind follered off on them
strange, strange tracks, Marconi roads lighted by X-rays and leadin'
who knows where.

When my mind kinder come back agin to what we wuz talkin' about I
resoomed, "And if this happens to us as it duz time and agin in regard
to friends and well wishers, how much more it is likely to be true of
those we love and who love us. This strange knowledge and fore-warnin'
is not material, it is independent of the body or any workin's of the
mind that we understand, and how do we know how fur reachin' and
universal that law is if our eyes wuz not held so we could discern it?
If these fine senses wuz not so unused, and as you may say bed-rid by
disuse, how do we know how truly near to us may be those who in our
blindness we say are fur away, how do we know but their spiritual
self, their real self, may be nearer to us than our neighbors in the
flesh, and those who sit by our firesides, though our mortal eyes may
not see them, and oceans and seas may divide us and mebby the Deepest
River. What do we know about the onseen roads that lay all about us,
leadin' from Loontown and Jonesville and from one continent to the
other, and mebby up through the clear fields of Light? What do we know
about them still mysterious streets windin' mebby from our home and
hearts to Thomas Jefferson's, and so on, mebby from star to star? And
what do we know of the travelers that go up and down on 'em and
outward and homeward? These roads don't need any surveyor to lay 'em
out, or path-master to clear 'em of snow and dirt, no weeds grow up by
the wayside, nor dirt lays in the