I note that it is not all “real” ghost stories, “The Silken Ghost,” for example, with its explanations on the line of what I have said of the cure book. “The Picture in the Fire” also, but that is so evidently “made up” that it has no place anywhere, least of all among the prize winners. As to footsteps on the stairs and “mysterious” slamming of doors, I have heard that often as it happens in my own house, but prefer to believe they come from the adjoining house and in a natural manner rather than in the ghost inventor's ways. And why should ghosts necessarily make noises—and ordinary, natural, commonplace noises to boot? So please stop frightening our children. Leave the ghost culture to the savages, where they originate, and if occasions occur give them a hand to get over that damned superstition. Yours truly, W. C. This was not meant for publication, but why not? I am sure it is far superior to anything else that will appear in your book and ought to have first prize. The following story is true, down to the minutest detail. One night I had a dream and saw an angel bending over me and folding his wings in a protective manner about my sleeping form. So vivid was the dream that I awoke—not altogether in dread because the face and posture of the angel held nothing but kindness, love and protection. When I awoke, however, the vision did not fade just at once, and I made a cry of awe and, probably, of fear. This awoke my husband and he gently reassured me and soothed me, and, not to disturb him further, I calmed myself to sleep, determined to say nothing of my dream till next day. After lunch on the following day, therefore, when we were having our customary half-hour's rest and chat, I opened the subject of the dream, and was about to relate it when he stopped me, saying he was sure he had seen my dream, and begged me to let him relate the dream first. I did so, and was much amazed that he had seen my dream exactly as I had done, and could relate the appearance and attitude of the angel in every particular. Did either of us think we had seen a ghost or apparition? Neither of us thought so. The truth of the matter was that my dream had been so vivid and real that even after I awoke the impression of the vision was still on my brain and took a little time to fade away, and my husband's sympathy was so alive to my distress, and his mind as much in tune with mine, that my mind, as it were, photographed to his mind the vision which I saw.