"Dear Doctor,—Do you remember Katy McGuire, who used to live with you in Chester? She died in 1872. She hopes you are having a good time in London."
Instantly thereafter I found myself wide awake, felt no surprise at not finding the pad of paper on my knees, bcause I then realised that that was but the hallucination of a dream, but impressed with that feature of my thought which related to the message, I partly turned my head, and, speaking over my shoulder to the doctor, said: "Doctor, I have a message for you."
The doctor looked up from the British Medical Journal which he was reading, and said: "What's that?"
"I have a message for you," I repeated. "It is this: 'Dear Doctor: Do you remember Katy McGuire, who used to live with you in Chester? She died in 1872. She hopes you are having a good time in London.'"
The doctor looked at me with amazement written all over his face, and said: "Why,—— what the devil do you mean?"
"I don't know anything about it except that just before I woke up I was impelled to receive this message which I have just delivered to you."
"Did you ever hear of Katy McGuire?" asked the doctor.
"Never in my life."
"Well," said the doctor, "that's one of the most remarkable things I ever heard of. My father for a great many years lived at Chester, Mass. There was a neighbouring family named McGuire, and Katy McGuire, a daughter of this neighbour, frequently came over to our house, as the younger people in a country village will visit their neighbours, and used to assist my mother in the lighter duties about the house. I was absent from Chester from about 1869 to about 1873. I had known Katy, however, as a daughter of our neighbour and knew that she used to visit the house. She died some time during the absence I speak of, but as to the exact date of her death I am not informed."
That closed the incident, and although the doctor told me that he would write to his old home to ascertain the exact date of Katy's death, I have never heard from him further in the matter. I questioned him at the time as to whether he had recently thought of Katy McGuire, and he told me that her name had not occurred to him for twenty years, and that he might never have recalled it had it not been for the rather curious incident which had occurred. In my own mind I could only explain the occurrence as a rather unusual coincidence. I was personally aware of the fact that the doctor's old home had been Chester, Mass., and had frequently talked with him of his earlier experiences in life when he began practice in that city, but never at any time during these conversations had the name of this neighbour's daughter been mentioned, nor had the name of the neighbour been mentioned, our conversation relating entirely to the immediate members of the family, particularly the doctor's father, who was a noted practitioner in that district.