H. W.--"I saw you put it into this bag." (The handkerchief was a large silk one given to sister by a lady who lived with us for years, and it came from England. I did not know I had put Hannah's thimble in the bag, but found on return to the hotel that it was there on the bed, with the rest of the things I had taken out of the bag before starting for the sitting.) Mrs B.--"Can you tell me, sister, how many brothers you have in spirit life?" H. W.--"One, two, three." (I asked her how many brothers, because William had only been dead since March 27 in the same year (1888). "Three" was correct.) Mrs B.--"Can you tell me where that letter is now that you wrote?" H. W.--"It is at home, in tin box." Mrs B.--"Can't you tell me more about it?" H. W.--"I have told you. It would be like ringing church bells if I could come back." (The letter was in the bag wrapped up in rubber cloth. Sister did say when we put the letter in tin box, "It would be like ringing the City Hall bell if I can come back.") H. W.--"Where's William and doctor?" Mrs B.--"Hannah, you tell me where William is." H. W.--"He is here. I found him." Mrs B.--"How long has he been?" H. W.--"Weeks. You know all about it. He sticks to you all the time every day. William wants to know how you like that lot." Mrs B.--"What lot?" H. W.--"You ought to know. You bought it to bury him in. William is better out of the world than in it. He was a strange fellow. He don't like that lot. Do you?" Mrs B.--"No." (I had bought him a lot in Woodlawn Cemetery, N.Y. His wife wanted him buried there. We wanted to take him to our home and bury him by mother. Brother was very proud, and we thought the lot was not as nice as he would like.)