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Updated: June 22, 2025


"No, ma'am, not unless you get off the hard ground. Besides they will go on the way to Breakneck Hill. Hark! I hear a hallooing. Not near no no fear, madam." They were by this time actually hidden from the common by the copsewood, and the distant shouts of the hue-and-cry kept all silent till they were fairly out beyond it, not far from Stead's own fields.

This case, to me, is very satisfactory, as it testifies to what was unquestionably an actual phantasm of the dead of a dead horse albeit that horse was prehistoric; and such horses are all the more likely to be earth-bound on account of their wild, untamed natures. Here is another account of a phantom horse taken from Mr. Stead's Real Ghost Stories.

We had talked or, rather, he had talked for hours after getting home from work. I was far from being weary of his conversation, but I knew that the night had passed, and I rose and drew aside the curtains. Never shall I forget the look of amazement that overspread Stead's face when the sunshine streamed into the room. "Why, it is daylight!" he exclaimed, with an air of bewilderment.

I remember that when the news came to Northumberland Street, the first remark which Mr. Thompson made was, "Well, Stead's presentiment is coming right after all." I remember all through that contest, when the issue was for some time somewhat in doubt, feeling quite certain that if Mr. Morley did not get in he would die, or he would find some other constituency.

They were pointing to his head, and two of them had caught him by the shoulders, when another voice rose "Ha! Let him alone. I say, Bill! Faithful! It's my brother. He knows no better!" Then dashing up, Jeph rammed the great hat down over Stead's brow, eyes and all, and called out, "Whoever touches my brother must have at me first."

"Speak lad or " and as no speech came, the lash descended on Stead's shoulders, not, however, hurting him much save where it grazed the skin of his face. "Now? Not a word? Take off his leathern coat, Faithful, then shall he feel the reward of sullenness."

He never came two successive nights to the same farm. He never ate where he killed, and he never left a track that betrayed his re-treat. He usually finished up his night's trail on the turf, or on a public highway. Once I saw him. I was walking to Monsaldale from Bakewell late one night during a heavy storm, and as I turned the corner of Stead's sheep-fold there was a vivid flash of lightning.

The Doctor could have gone into a long disquisition about Presbyterian Orders, contradicting the arguments many good and devout people adduced in favour of them, but there was little time, so he only confirmed with authority Stead's belief that a Bishop's Ordination was indispensable to a true pastor, "the only door by which to enter to the charge of the fold."

II: The social conditions of the submerged tenth, which led to my writing of a book on The Dark Places of Chicago which was the stimulating cause of W.T. Stead's soul-stirring book If Christ Came to Chicago.

Stead's Journalistic Career His Methods Birth of the New Journalism Madame Novikoff and Mr. Stead Mr. Stead's Attacks upon Joseph Cowen How he dealt with a Remonstrance W. E. Forster Mr. Chamberlain's Antagonism The Leeds Mercury's Defence of Forster How he was Jockeyed out of the Cabinet Forster's Resignation News of the Phoenix Park Murders Forster's Reflections Mr.

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