reminds me of a sitting I once had with a young man
wherein, to utterly confound us, the invisible hands removed his
undershirt while his coat-sleeves were nailed to the chair."

"Oh, come now, you don't expect us to believe a miracle like that, even
on your serious statement?" remarked Miller.

"I certainly do not," I responded, readily. "I wouldn't believe it on
any one's statement. That is the discouraging thing about this whole
business; you can't convince any one by any amount of evidence. A man
will stand out against Zoellner, Crookes, Lodge, and Myers, discounting
all the rest of the great investigators, and then crumple up like a
caterpillar at the first touch of The Invisible Hand when it comes to
him directly. This same young man gave me the most convincing
demonstrations of materialized forms I have ever seen. In his own little
home, under the simplest conditions, he commanded forth from a little
bedroom a figure which was unmistakably not a mechanism. A lamp was
burning in the room, and the young fellow was perfectly visible at the
same moment as the phantom which stood and bowed three times."

"What did it look like?"

"It looked like a man's figure swathed in some white drapery. I could
not see the face, but it was certainly not a 'dummy.' But come, let us
see what the forces can do for us here to-night. I think we will need
'Annie Laurie' to clear the air of debate."

Mrs. Miller began the song, and we all joined in softly.

"Our newspaper is a trusty watch-dog," remarked Miller, significantly.

As he spoke the psychic began to toss and writhe and moan pitifully. Her
suffering mounted to a paroxysm at last; then silence fell for a minute
or two--absolute stillness; and in this hush the table took life, rose,
and slid away toward us as if shoved by a powerful hand.

"So far as my hearing goes, the psychic does not move," I said. "Barring
the light, this is a very good demonstration of movement without
control. Every movement of the table our way removes it farther from the
reach of the psychic."

"I hear nothing from the paper," confessed Miller, "and yet the table is
certainly moving."

"I can believe this, because I have proved these movements without
contact. In this case Mrs. Smiley cannot reach the table with her knees
and her feet secured by tape nailed to the bookcase. You cannot believe
she has gotten out of her skin. The newspaper is still on guard, and has
uttered no alarm."

"It is