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When Waltie comes I can imagine myself as I was when we first went to the mountains. Robert means more and more to me, and all fear of 'the change' is gone. Really, if it were not for Viola I would like to go over to the other side to-night. The spirit-plane seems so much more care-free and bright. This life is but a preparatory school at best." "That is all wrong," he decisively replied.
That very night things began." Kate's eyes snapped. "What things?" "Well, Waltie had a little chair that he liked a little reed rocking-chair and my husband always kept this chair close by where he sat reading. That night I saw the chair begin to rock all by itself and yet, some way, it didn't scare me. 'Robert, did you move Waltie's chair? I asked. 'No, he said.
Lambert, her voice full of maternal pride, remarked: "Waltie is the life of our sittings he's such a rogue! You must be a nice boy to-night on account of these very distinguished men." "Rap, rap!" went the cone. "Does that mean 'all right'?" "Rap, rap, rap!" Yes. "Is grandfather there?" "Yes." "Does he wish to speak to the gentlemen?" "Yes." "Are we sitting right?" A decided thump "No."
We are well out of his shadow-world, and you are never to re-enter it. I want you to forget that you ever sat in a 'circle' or heard a 'voice." "Oh, I can't expect to pass entirely out of that," she exclaimed, as though the possibility came near her for the first time. "On mother's account I must continue to sit now and then. She couldn't live without her communion with papa and Waltie."
Then Robert bent right down over the chair, and it stopped for a moment, and then slid backward under the table, just as our own boy used to do. He loved to play tent. Robert looked up at me as white as the dead. 'It is Waltie, mother; he has come back to us, he said, and I believed it, too."
A sharp rapping began on the cone, a measured beat, which ended in a clang, which startled Kate into a shriek. "Who is doing that?" she asked, nervously. "They are here," Clarke solemnly announced. "Is that you, Waltie?" asked Mrs. Lambert, sweetly. Three raps, loud and clear, answered "yes." A drumming on the cone followed, and Mrs.
'Why? 'Because it rocked. Robert threw down his book and looked at the chair. 'Viola must have moved it, he said. 'Viola was in her own little chair on the other side of the table, I said. 'It must have been the cat, then. "And then, just while we both looked at it, it began to move again exactly as if Waltie were in it. It creaked, too, as it used to when he rocked."
Lambert went on: "After that he came every night, and soon the tappings began, and finally we got into communication with my father, who told us to be patient and wait and Waltie would speak to us. Then the power took hold of Viola and frightened her almost into fits." The girl visibly shuddered and her eyes fell. "How did it begin?" asked Kate, breathless with interest.
There are one or two pitiful letters from the girl written while at school, detailing several embarrassing returns of the 'spirits, but, on the whole, she was happy. According to the record, her vacations must have been a torment, for 'Waltie, that's no Polter-geist, seemed determined to make up for lost time. He came every night, making life a hell for his sister.
Science is hopeless. We alone can save the world from despair." "That is my father," explained Mrs. Lambert, "he is my daughter's chief 'control, He cares for her teaches her." Again the floating horn passed Morton's face, and a boyish voice called, "Mamma, are you happy?" "Yes, dear, when you are with me." "We're always with you. We're glad P'ofessor Serviss came." "So are we, Waltie."
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