When I first began to get communications I destroyed, in a day or two after they were written, the slips of paper containing the writing, but as the developments became more interesting, Mr. Underwood suggested that they be preserved for reference. I acted on this suggestion, and thus in the instances of facts given outside our own knowledge, I am enabled to give the exact wording of each communication. Our questions were asked viva voce, and as they were often suggested by what had been previously written, I either at the time or soon afterwards wrote them just above the reply. I am not, therefore, trust-ing at all to memory in the statements I shall make.

A gentleman of this city (whom I will call John Smith, but whose real name was a more uncommon one) with whom Mr. Underwood had been acquainted many years, but of whose family relations he knew little, died here more than a year ago. Mr. Underwood had met him but once in the year previous to his death, he having been away on account of failing health, staying, we understood, with a daughter recently married, whose home was in Florida. The first name of this married daughter, or of any of Mr. Smith's daughters except one, was unknown to Mr. Underwood. I had met one of his daughters whose name I knew to be Jennie. I also knew that there was another named Violet. I was not sure, however, whether this was the name of the married one, or of another unmarried, but had the impression that Violet was unmarried. One evening, while waiting for automatic writing with no thought of Mr. Smith in my mind, and Mr. Underwood sitting near me at the table with his thoughts concentrated on an article he was preparing, this was written: "John Smith will now enter into conversation with B. F. Underwood." I read this to Mr. Underwood, who laid aside his pen, and in order to test the matter, asked if Mr. Smith remembered the last time they met, soon after his return from the South, and a short time previous to his death.

There was some delay in the answer, but soon reply came, "On Madison Street." "Whereabouts on Madison?" was asked. "Near Washington." "At what hour?" "About 10 a.m., raining." As it was rarely that Mr. Underwood was in that part of the city at so early an hour, and especially on a rainy day, I doubted the correctness of this reply, but Mr. Underwood recalled to my mind the unusual circumstance which made it necessary for him to be in that vicinity on the day and at the hour named, on which he and Mr. Smith, he distinctly remembered, last met. Only a few words passed between them on account of the rain. After this, writing, purporting to be from Mr. Smith, came frequently. Very soon something was written which induced Mr. Underwood half sportively to inquire whether there was anything which troubled Mr. Smith, anything which he wished he had done, but had omitted, before his death. The answer came, "One thing - change deeds on Violet's account. None of my wife's are at my daughter's disposal. All in her own disposal." Mr. Underwood asked if it was meant that he had not left his property - for he was a man of some wealth - as he now wished he had. "You are right," was written, "want all my girls to share alike." "Which daughter do you refer to?" was asked. "Went away from her in Florida - Violet," was the answer.

I remarked, "Why, I thought Violet was one of the unmarried girls, but it must be that that is the name of the married daughter." Then Mr. Underwood was strongly urged to call on Mr. Smith's married son, James, with whom Mr. Underwood had a slight acquaintance, and tell him of this communication. "Clearly state my desire that my daughter Violet share equally with her sisters." Of course this was utterly out of the question. At that time we had no intention of informing any one of our psychic experience, and if we had, Mr. James Smith would have thought us insane or impertinent to come to him with so ridiculous a story, the truth of which we ourselves strongly doubted. Pages were, however, written concerning the matter in so earnest and pleading a manner that I came to feel conscience-stricken at refusing to do what was asked, and to shrink from seeing Mr. Smith's name appear. Once was written, "Say to James that in my new position, and with my new views of life, I feel that I did wrong to treat his sister Violet as I did.

She was not to blame for following out her own convictions, when I had inculcated independent thought and action for all." This and other sentences of the kind seemed to convey the idea that Violet had in some way incurred his displeasure by doing according to her own will in opposition to his. This was puzzling to us, as we knew that in her marriage, at least, the daughter we thought to be Violet had followed her father's wishes.

A few weeks later, however, came an unlooked-for verification of Mr. Smith's messages. In a conversation between Mr. Underwood and a business friend of Mr. Smith, who was well acquainted with all his affairs, regret was expressed that so wealthy a man had left so little for a certain purpose. Mr. Underwood then inquired as to what disposition had been made of his property, and was told that he had left it mainly to his wife and children - so much to this one, and that. "But Violet," continued Mr. Underwood's informant, "was left only a small amount, as Mr. Smith was angry because she married against his wishes." "Why," remarked Mr. Underwood, "I understood that he approved of the match, and the fact that he accompanied herself and husband to Florida, and remained with them some time, would seem to indicate that." "Oh, you are thinking of Lucy, the eldest girl; her marriage was all right, but Violet, one of the younger daughters, going to Florida with her [Lucy's] husband, fell in love with a young man of whom her father did not approve, so she made a runaway marriage, and on account of his displeasure, Mr. Smith left her only a small sum." The intelligence writing was aware of facts unknown to either Mr. Underwood or myself, and no other persons were in the room when these communications were given.