ow many brothers, because
William had only been dead since March 27 in the same year (1888).
"Three" was correct.)

Mrs B.--"Can you tell me where that letter is now that you wrote?"

H. W.--"It is at home, in tin box."

Mrs B.--"Can't you tell me more about it?"

H. W.--"I have told you. It would be like ringing church bells if I
could come back." (The letter was in the bag wrapped up in rubber cloth.
Sister did say when we put the letter in tin box, "It would be like
ringing the City Hall bell if I can come back.")

H. W.--"Where's William and doctor?"

Mrs B.--"Hannah, you tell me where William is."

H. W.--"He is here. I found him."

Mrs B.--"How long has he been?"

H. W.--"Weeks. You know all about it. He sticks to you all the time
every day. William wants to know how you like that lot."

Mrs B.--"What lot?"

H. W.--"You ought to know. You bought it to bury him in. William is
better out of the world than in it. He was a strange fellow. He don't
like that lot. Do you?"

Mrs B.--"No." (I had bought him a lot in Woodlawn Cemetery, N.Y. His
wife wanted him buried there. We wanted to take him to our home and bury
him by mother. Brother was very proud, and we thought the lot was not as
nice as he would like.)

At the end of the sitting the so-called Hannah Wild said that she must
go because it was church time, and she would not miss it. Mrs Blodgett
remarks that this is also characteristic of her sister. It was
Decoration Day, and the living Hannah Wild would certainly not have
missed it. This last incident is odd; but there are many analogous ones
in the literature of the subject and in Mrs Piper's sittings. Often the
communicator will not allow that he is dead, or has passed into another
world; if he is asked what he is doing, he appears surprised, and
affirms that he is carrying on his usual occupation; if he is a doctor,
he asserts that he continues to visit his patients. Phinuit is often
asked to describe the people of whom he speaks. He pictures them as they
were on earth, in their customary dress, and he affirms that he so sees
them. At the end of one sitting Professor Hyslop's father exclaims,
"Give me my hat!" Now this was an order he often gave in his lifetime
when he rose painfully from his invalid chair to accompany a visitor to
the gate. I repeat, these incidents are odd and embarrassing for the
spiritistic hypothesis. It is difficult to admit that the other world,
if it exists, should be a