I had to go abroad one summer and my dog was ill with eczema, and as I did not very much trust the maid I was leaving in charge, I sent him to the vet's to be treated. As soon as I reached my destination I wrote to a friend to go and inquire how he was. She replied that the dog was perfectly miserable, and that he had an enormous wound on his back, that he had eaten nothing for a week, that he was too weak to stand, and that if he were hers, she would have him put out of his misery at once. I wrote at once to the vet, telling him to telegraph "Curable" or "Hopeless," and to act accordingly. Meanwhile, I sat that afternoon in the Buergerpark by myself and imagined the dog upon my lap, and myself stroking and healing him. After this I found myself fully believing that he would get better. The telegram I received was "Curable," and my friend wrote a second letter and said it was a miracle, for the dog was quite convalescent. He recovered perfectly. Here, again, however, it may have been that he was breaking his heart for a friend, and that my friend's visit cheered him. Or may not both causes have had their effect? "AMBROSE ZAIL MARTYN." Here is another case in the veracity of which I have every confidence. I will call it _The Headless Cat of No. ---- Lower Seedley Road, Seedley, Manchester_ It was related to me by Mr. Robert Dane, who was at one time a tenant of No. ---- Lower Seedley Road, Seedley. I quote it as nearly as possible in his words, thus:-- "When we--my wife and I--took No. ---- Lower Seedley Road, no possibility of the place being haunted crossed our minds. Indeed ghosts were the very last things we reckoned on, as neither of us had the slightest belief in them. Like the generality of solicitors, I am stodgy and unimaginative, whilst my wife is the most practical and matter-of-fact little woman you would meet in a day's march. Nor was there anything about the house that in any way suggested the superphysical. It was airy and light--no dark corners nor sinister staircases--and equipped throughout with all modern conveniences. We began our lease in June--the hottest June I remember--and nothing occurred to disturb us till October. "It happened then in this wise. I will quote from my diary:-- "_Monday, October 11th_.--Dick--that is my brother-in-law--and I, at 11 p.m., were sitting smoking and chatting together in the study. All the rest of the household had gone to bed. We had no light in the room--as Dick had a headache--save the fire, and that had burned so low that its feeble glimmering scarcely enabled us to see each other's face. After a space of sudden and thoughtful silence, Dick took the stump of a cigar from his lips and threw it in the grate, where for a few moments it lay glowing in the gloom.