Jan. 17th, 1887, Ansel Bourne, an evangelist, left his home in Rhode Island, and, after transacting some business in Providence, one item of which was to draw some money to pay for a farm for which he had bargained, he went to Boston, then to New York, then to Philadelphia, and, finally, to Norristown, Penn., fifteen or twenty miles from Philadelphia, where he opened a small store for the sale of stationery, confectionery, and five-cent articles. In this business he was known as A. J. Brown. He lived in a room partitioned off from the back of the store, eating, sleeping, and doing his own cooking there. He rented the store from a Mr. Earl, who also, with his family, lived in the building. Mr. Brown went back and forth to Philadelphia for goods to keep up his stock, and seems to have conducted his business as if accustomed to it.
Sunday, March 13th, he went to church, and at night went to bed as usual. On Monday, March 14th, about 5 o’clock in the morning, he awoke and found himself in what appeared to him an altogether new and strange place; he thought he must have broken into the place, and was much troubled, fearing arrest. Finally, after waiting two hours in great uneasiness of mind, he got up and found the door locked on the inside. He went out into the hall, and, hearing some one moving about, he rapped at the door. Mr. Earl, his landlord, opened it, and said: “Good-morning, Mr. Brown.”
“Where am I?” said Mr. Brown.
“You are all right,” replied Mr. Earl.
“I’m all wrong, and my name is not Brown. Where am I?”
“You are in Norristown.”
“Where is Norristown?”
“In Pennsylvania, about seventeen miles west of Philadelphia.”
“What day of the month is it?” inquired Mr. Brown.
“The 14th,” replied Mr. Earl.