"I distinctly remember the incident you mention in your letter (the voice calling 'Mother'); it made such an impression upon my mind I shall never forget it. We were all sitting quietly at work one evening; it was about nine o'clock. I think it must have been late in the summer, as we had left the street door open. We first heard a faint cry of 'Mother'; we all looked up and said to one another, 'Did you hear that? some one cried out "Mother."' We had scarcely finished speaking when the voice again called 'Mother' twice in quick succession, the last cry a frightened, agonizing cry. We all started up and mother said to me, 'Go to the door and see what is the matter.' I ran directly into the street and stood some few minutes, but all was silent, and not a person to be seen; it was a lovely evening, not a breath of air. Mother was sadly upset about it. I remember she paced the room and feared something had happened to you. She wrote down the date the next day, and when you came home and told us how nearly you had been drowned, and the time of day, father said it would be about the time nine o'clock would be with us. I know the date and the time corresponded." In the next case three of the senses--sight, hearing, and touch were concerned. It is from Mr. Gurney's collection. "From Mr. Algeron Joy, 20 Walton Place, S. W. "Aug. 16th, 1883. "About 1862 I was walking in a country lane near Cardiff by myself, when I was overtaken by two young colliers who suddenly attacked me. One of them gave me a violent blow on the eye which knocked me down, half-stunned. I distinctly remembered afterwards all that I had been thinking about, both immediately prior to the attack and for some time after it. "Up to the moment of the attack and for some time previously, I was absorbed in a calculation connected with Penarth Docks, then in construction, on which I was employed. My train of thought was interrupted for a moment by the sound of footsteps behind me. I looked back and saw the two young men, but thought no more of them, and immediately returned to my calculations. "On receiving the blow, I began speculating on their object, what they were going to do next, how I could best defend myself, or escape from them; and when they ran away, and I had picked myself up I thought of trying to identify them and of denouncing them at the police station, to which I proceeded after following them until I lost sight of them. "In short, I am positive that for about half an hour previous to the attack, and for an hour or two after it, there was no connection whatever, direct or indirect, between my thoughts and a person at that moment in London, and whom I will call 'A.'