I took the queer-colored piece of coal, and began heating it under the blowpipe. It did not burn, as I thought it would, but turned red and then white; gradually it seemed to grow larger and larger and brighter and brighter until I opened my eyes and found myself in bed with the sun shining full upon me through the open window. AN INTERESTING GHOST. [DR. WATSON'S STORY.] It is with the greatest difficulty, (said Dr. Watson), that I force myself to believe that what I am about to relate to you did not actually happen. It seemed to me that I was as wide-awake as I am at this present moment, and impossible that the strange series of incidents could be due entirely to mental disturbances. I went home and went to bed, after first taking the powder, and I think I went to sleep. How long I slept I do not know, but I was startled at finding myself floating about the room with much the same feeling as one has when floating in water, only it was without effort. My motion seemed to be governed entirely by my will,--if I glanced at anything in the room I would float towards it. Imagine my astonishment at seeing my body lying in the bed apparently sound asleep; you will admit the sensation was novel, to say the least. After floating around the room two or three times enjoying the peculiar sensation, I began to wonder what they had been doing at the hospital during my absence. Immediately I found myself in the hospital ward. Dr. Ford and two nurses were standing by a cot at the north end, and glancing at the chart on the table I saw the patient was seriously ill. "Moribund," said a voice. "I'm afraid so," I answered. I turned and saw an elderly gentleman, dressed in the costume of the last century, floating beside me. "Sad, is it not? People still die, I see, in spite of the wonderful advance in the science of medicine since my day." "Were you a doctor when alive?" I asked. "Well, I was called one, and received the regular license to kill or cure. I regret to say that I have since learned that I killed a great many more than I cured. The trouble is, after you are dead your patients know this as well as you do and say unkind things; even to-night I received word from a former patient of mine, and a ghost who ought to know better, to the effect that he intended to hunt me up and punch my head. I treated him for renal colic and he died of appendicitis." "What sort of a death certificate did you give?" I asked. "Heart disease, and let me tell you that was a great deal nearer to it than some of you chaps get nowadays." "You are not complimentary," I said coldly.