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Updated: May 29, 2025
My mother happened to mention to Miss Edmonds one day her regret that I was unable to take music-lessons, for want of opportunity for the needful practice, when she informed my mother that she still retained her piano out of the wreck of their former affluence, and that, if she wished me to take lessons, I was at liberty to practice daily upon it.
"Each day brings its petty dust, Our soon-choked souls to fill; And we forget because we must, And not because we will." One evening when May with heavy clouds and slant rains was making the city as miserable as possible, Ethel had a caller. His card bore a name quite unknown, and his appearance gave no clew to his identity. "Mr. Edmonds?" she said interrogatively.
As a matter of fact, Hawtrey was in one respect, at least, perfectly safe in entrusting the money to him. Edmonds had deprived a good many prairie farmers of their possessions in his time, but he never stooped to any crude trickery. He left that to the smaller fry. Just then he was playing a deep and cleverly thought-out game.
It was finally sold to an Englishman, who took it across the ocean, and it was lost sight of until, after twenty-five years, it was found by an artist friend, Mr. F.W. Edmonds, in New York, where it had been sent from London. It was in a more or less damaged condition, but was restored by Morse.
"In a way. In fact, I might claim to have started him on his career of newspaper crime. I'm Gardner of the Angelica City Herald." "Ban will be glad to see you. Take off your things. I am Russell Edmonds." He led the way into a spacious and beautiful room, filled with the composite hum of voices and the scent of half-hidden flowers.
The estimates of the number of spiritualists in this country at the present time, only twenty-six short years from its commencement, though differing somewhat from each other, are nevertheless such as to show that the progress of spiritualism has been without a parallel. Of those who have become its devotees, Judge Edmonds said as long ago as 1853:
Not even the host knows who he is; or, at least, makes that he does not. He is under another name, of course; it is Mr. Edmonds, this time. He was in Essex, he tells me; but comes to the wolves' den for safety. It is safer, he says, to sit secure in the midst of the trap, than to wander about its doors; for when the doors are opened he can run out again, if no one knows he is there...."
They may be compared to the sound of the trumpet in a concert; the other consonants are the sound of the drum rub-a-dub-dub." It is of course impossible, in a short notice like this, to give a thousandth part of the methods and arguments by which Mr. Edmonds works out his theory; but I shall attempt to make his process clear by one or two short examples.
He could hear it behind him as he walked, but it faded. There was only the sight and smell of Kordule ahead of him. Senators were already filing through the Presidium as Edmonds of South Africa came out of his office with Daugherty of the Foreign Office. The youngest senator stopped beside the great bronze doors, studying the situation. Then he sighed in relief.
"It looks easy," Sally admitted, with something in her manner which led him to fancy he might win her over. "Of course, prices have been falling. Gregory has been selling down?" "He has. In fact, there's already a big margin to his credit," said Edmonds unsuspectingly. "That is, if he bought in now he'd have cleared several thousand dollars?"
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