A near relative of the illustrious Damphool, who believed in the Spiritual performances, persuaded me to visit, with him and my inseparable friends, the habitation of a "Medium" who retailed communications from the other spheres at twenty-five cents an interview.
Being sated with the ordinary common-place things of every-day life, and having heard a great deal about the mysterious communications telegraphed to this, our ignorant sphere, by wise and benignant spirits of bliss, through the dignified medium of old chairs, wash-stands and card-tables, we three (who had met again) determined to put ourselves in communication with the next world, to find out, if possible, our chances of a favorable reception when business or pleasure calls us in that direction.
Up Broadway, till we came to an illuminated three-cornered transparency, (which made Bull Dogge smack his lips and say "oysters,") which informed us that within, a large assortment of spirits of every description were constantly in attendance, ready to answer inquiries, or to run on errands in the spirit world, and bring the ghosts of anybody's defunct relations or friends to that classic spot, for conversational purposes, all for the moderate charge before mentioned.
Damphool, who had been there before, said that these "delicate Ariels" were the spirits of departed newsboys, who are thrown out of their legitimate business, and strive to get an honest living by doing these eighteen-penny jobs.
Entered the room with becoming gravity, and overcoming awe. Two old foozles in white neckcloths and no collars, a returned Californian in an Indian blanket, two peaked-nosed old maids, a good-looking widow, with a little boy, our own sacred trio, and the "medium," composed the whole of the assembled multitude.
The "medium" aforesaid, was a vinegar-complexioned woman, with a very ruby nose, mouth the exact shape of the sound-hole to a violin, who wore green spectacles, and robes of equivocal purity.
The furniture consisted of several chairs, a mirror, no carpet, a small stand, a large dining table, and in one corner of the room a bedstead, washstand, and bookcase, with writing desk on top. After some remarks by the medium, we formed the magic circle, by sitting close together, and putting our hands on the table. Bull Dogge, who, despite the Maine law, had a bottle in his pocket, took a big drink before he laid his ponderous fists by the side of the others.
After a short length of time the table began to shake its ricketty legs, to flap its leaves after the manner of wings, and to utter ominous squeaks from its crazy old joints.
Pretty soon "knock" under Damphool's hand; he trembled, and turned pale, but on the whole, stood his ground like a man. Knock, knock in my immediate vicinity—looked under the table, but couldn't see any body—knock, knock, knock, KNOCK, directly under Bull Dogge's elbow. He, frightened, jumped from his seat, and prepared to run, but, sensible to the last, he took a drink, felt better—reverently took off his hat, said "d—n it"—and resumed his seat.
Knocking became general—medium said the spirits were ready to answer questions—asked if any spirit would talk to me.