The Autobiography of a Quack [36]
me the ambulance.''
It was so arranged, as the surgeon in charge was kind enough, as usual, to oblige me with the loan of his wagon, and two orderlies to lift my useless trunk.
On the day following I found myself, with my new comrade, in a house in Coates street, where a ``circle'' was in the daily habit of meeting. So soon as I had been comfortably deposited in an arm-chair, beside a large pine table, the rest of those assembled seated themselves, and for some time preserved an unbroken silence. During this pause I scrutinized the persons present. Next to me, on my right, sat a flabby man, with ill-marked, baggy features and injected eyes. He was, as I learned afterwards, an eclectic doctor, who had tried his hand at medicine and several of its quackish variations, finally settling down on eclecticism, which I believe professes to be to scientific medicine what vegetarianism is to common-sense, every-day dietetics. Next to him sat a female-authoress, I think, of two somewhat feeble novels, and much pleasanter to look at than her books. She was, I thought, a good deal excited at the prospect of spiritual revelations. Her neighbor was a pallid, care-worn young woman, with very red lips, and large brown eyes of great beauty. She was, as I learned afterwards, a magnetic patient of the doctor, and had deserted her husband, a master mechanic, to follow this new light. The others were, like myself, strangers brought hither by mere curiosity. One of them was a lady in deep black, closely veiled. Beyond her, and opposite to me, sat the sergeant, and next to him the medium, a man named Brink. He wore a good deal of jewelry, and had large black side-whiskers--a shrewd-visaged, large- nosed, full-lipped man, formed by nature to appreciate the pleasant things of sensual existence.
Before I had ended my survey, he turned to the lady in black, and asked if she wished to see any one in the spirit-world.
She said, ``Yes,'' rather feebly.
``Is the spirit present?'' he asked. Upon which two knocks were heard in affirmation. ``Ah!'' said the medium, ``the name is--it is the name of a child. It is a male child. It is--''
``Alfred!'' she cried. ``Great Heaven! My child! My boy!''
On this the medium arose, and became strangely convulsed. ``I see,'' he said--``I see--a fair-haired boy. I see blue eyes--I see above you, beyond you--'' at the same time pointing fixedly over her head.
She turned with a wild start. ``Where-- whereabouts?''
``A blue-eyed boy,'' he continued, ``over your head. He cries--he says, `Mama, mama!' ''
The effect of this on the woman was unpleasant. She stared about her for a moment, and exclaiming, ``I come--I am coming, Alfy!'' fell in hysterics on the floor.
Two or three persons raised her, and aided her into an adjoining room; but the rest remained at the table, as though well accustomed to like scenes.
After this several of the strangers were called upon to write the names of the dead with whom they wished to communicate. The names were spelled out by the agency of affirmative knocks when the correct letters were touched by the applicant, who was furnished with an alphabet-card upon which he tapped the letters in turn, the medium, meanwhile, scanning his face very keenly. With some, the names were readily made out. With one, a stolid personage of disbelieving type, every attempt failed, until at last the spirits signified by knocks that he was a disturbing agency, and that while he remained all our efforts would fail. Upon this some of the company proposed that he should leave; of which invitation he took advantage, with a skeptical sneer at the whole performance.
As he left us, the sergeant leaned over and whispered to the medium, who next addressed himself to me. ``Sister Euphemia,'' he said, indicating the lady with large eyes, ``will act as your medium. I am unable to do more. These things exhaust my nervous system.''
``Sister Euphemia,'' said the doctor, ``will aid us. Think, if you please, sir, of a spirit, and she will endeavor to summon it to our circle.''
Upon this
It was so arranged, as the surgeon in charge was kind enough, as usual, to oblige me with the loan of his wagon, and two orderlies to lift my useless trunk.
On the day following I found myself, with my new comrade, in a house in Coates street, where a ``circle'' was in the daily habit of meeting. So soon as I had been comfortably deposited in an arm-chair, beside a large pine table, the rest of those assembled seated themselves, and for some time preserved an unbroken silence. During this pause I scrutinized the persons present. Next to me, on my right, sat a flabby man, with ill-marked, baggy features and injected eyes. He was, as I learned afterwards, an eclectic doctor, who had tried his hand at medicine and several of its quackish variations, finally settling down on eclecticism, which I believe professes to be to scientific medicine what vegetarianism is to common-sense, every-day dietetics. Next to him sat a female-authoress, I think, of two somewhat feeble novels, and much pleasanter to look at than her books. She was, I thought, a good deal excited at the prospect of spiritual revelations. Her neighbor was a pallid, care-worn young woman, with very red lips, and large brown eyes of great beauty. She was, as I learned afterwards, a magnetic patient of the doctor, and had deserted her husband, a master mechanic, to follow this new light. The others were, like myself, strangers brought hither by mere curiosity. One of them was a lady in deep black, closely veiled. Beyond her, and opposite to me, sat the sergeant, and next to him the medium, a man named Brink. He wore a good deal of jewelry, and had large black side-whiskers--a shrewd-visaged, large- nosed, full-lipped man, formed by nature to appreciate the pleasant things of sensual existence.
Before I had ended my survey, he turned to the lady in black, and asked if she wished to see any one in the spirit-world.
She said, ``Yes,'' rather feebly.
``Is the spirit present?'' he asked. Upon which two knocks were heard in affirmation. ``Ah!'' said the medium, ``the name is--it is the name of a child. It is a male child. It is--''
``Alfred!'' she cried. ``Great Heaven! My child! My boy!''
On this the medium arose, and became strangely convulsed. ``I see,'' he said--``I see--a fair-haired boy. I see blue eyes--I see above you, beyond you--'' at the same time pointing fixedly over her head.
She turned with a wild start. ``Where-- whereabouts?''
``A blue-eyed boy,'' he continued, ``over your head. He cries--he says, `Mama, mama!' ''
The effect of this on the woman was unpleasant. She stared about her for a moment, and exclaiming, ``I come--I am coming, Alfy!'' fell in hysterics on the floor.
Two or three persons raised her, and aided her into an adjoining room; but the rest remained at the table, as though well accustomed to like scenes.
After this several of the strangers were called upon to write the names of the dead with whom they wished to communicate. The names were spelled out by the agency of affirmative knocks when the correct letters were touched by the applicant, who was furnished with an alphabet-card upon which he tapped the letters in turn, the medium, meanwhile, scanning his face very keenly. With some, the names were readily made out. With one, a stolid personage of disbelieving type, every attempt failed, until at last the spirits signified by knocks that he was a disturbing agency, and that while he remained all our efforts would fail. Upon this some of the company proposed that he should leave; of which invitation he took advantage, with a skeptical sneer at the whole performance.
As he left us, the sergeant leaned over and whispered to the medium, who next addressed himself to me. ``Sister Euphemia,'' he said, indicating the lady with large eyes, ``will act as your medium. I am unable to do more. These things exhaust my nervous system.''
``Sister Euphemia,'' said the doctor, ``will aid us. Think, if you please, sir, of a spirit, and she will endeavor to summon it to our circle.''
Upon this