He says, nothing. (I can't make out what he says.) He's thinking. It's Feda's fault, he says. O. J. L.--Well, never mind. Report anything he says, whether it makes sense or not. He says he fell down. He's sure of that. He hurt himself. He builds up a letter T, and he shows a gate, a small gate--looks like a foot-path; not one in the middle of a town. Pain in hands and arms. O. J. L.--Was he a friend of the family? No. No, he says, no. He gives Feda a feeling of tumbling, again he gives a feeling as though--(Feda thinks Yaymond's joking)--he laughed. He was well known among us, he says; and yet, he says, not a friend of the family. Scarcely a day passed without his name being mentioned. He's joking, Feda feels sure. He's making fun of Feda. O. J. L.--No, tell me all he says. He says, put him on a pedestal. No, that they put him on a pedestal. He was considered very wonderful. And he 'specs that he wouldn't have appreciated it, if he had known; but he didn't know, he says. Not sure if he ever will, he says. It sounds nonsense, what he says. Feda has got an impression that he's mixing him up with the bird, because he said something about 'bird' in the middle of it--just while he said something about Mr. Jackson, and then he pulled himself up, and changed it again. Just before he said 'pedestal' he said 'fine bird,' and then he stopped. In trying to answer the one, he got both mixed up, Mr. Jackson and the bird. O. J. L.--How absurd! Perhaps he's getting tired. He won't say he got this mixed up! But he did! Because he said 'fine bird,' and then he started off about Mr. Jackson. O. J. L.--What about the pedestal? On a pedestal, he said. O. J. L.--Would he like him put on a pedestal? No, he doesn't say nothing. [_Contemporary Note by O. J. L._--The episode of Mr. Jackson and the bird is a good one. 'Mr. Jackson' is the comic name of our peacock. Within the last week he has died, partly, I fear, by the severe weather. But his legs have been rheumatic and troublesome for some time; and in trying to walk he of late has tumbled down on them. He was found dead in a yard on a cold morning with his neck broken. One of the last people I saw before leaving home for this sitting was a man whom Lady Lodge had sent to take the bird's body and have it stuffed. She showed him a wooden pedestal on which she thought it might be placed, and tail feathers were being sent with it. Hence, the reference to the pedestal, if not telepathic from me, shows a curious knowledge of what was going on. And the jocular withholding from Feda of the real meaning of Mr. Jackson, and the appropriate remarks made concerning him which puzzled Feda, were quite in Raymond's vein of humour. Perhaps it was unfortunate that I had mentioned a bird first, but I tried afterwards, by my manner and remarks, completely to dissociate the name Jackson from what I had asked before about the bird; and Raymond played up to it.