time or soon afterward wrote them just above the reply. I am not, therefore, trusting at all to memory in the statements I shall make. A gentleman of this city (whom I will call John Smith, but whose real name was a more uncommon one) with whom Mr. U. had been acquainted many years, but of whose family relations he knew little, died here more than a year ago. Mr. U. had met him but once in the year previous to his death, he having been away on account of failing health, staying, we understood, with a daughter recently married, whose home was in Florida. The first name of this married daughter, or of any of Mr. Smith's daughters except one, was unknown to Mr. U. I had met one of his daughters whose name I knew to be Jennie. I also knew that there was another named Violet. I was not sure, however, whether this was the name of the married one, or of another unmarried, but had the impression that Violet was unmarried. One evening, while waiting for automatic writing with no thought of Mr. Smith in my mind, and Mr. U. sitting near me at the table with his thoughts concentrated on an article he was preparing, this was written: "John Smith will now enter into conversation with B. F. Underwood." I read this to Mr. U. who laid aside his pen, and in order to test the matter, asked if Mr. Smith remembered the last time they met, soon after his return from the South, and a short time previous to his death. There was some delay in the answer, but soon reply came "On Madison St." "Whereabouts on Madison?" was asked. "Near Washington." "At what hour?" "About 10 A. M., raining." As it was rarely that Mr. U. was in that part of the city at so early an hour, and especially on a rainy day, I doubted the correctness of this reply, but Mr. U. recalled to my mind the unusual circumstance which made it necessary for him to be in that vicinity on the day and at the hour named, on which he and Mr. Smith, he distinctly remembered, last met. Only a few words passed between them on account of the rain. After this, writing, purporting to be from Mr. Smith, came frequently. Very soon something was written which induced Mr. U. half sportively to inquire whether there was anything which troubled Mr. Smith, anything which he wished he had done but had omitted, before his death. The answer came, "One thing--change deeds on Violet's account. None of my wife's are at my daughter's disposal. All in her own disposal." Mr. U. asked if it was meant that he had not left his property--for he was a man of some wealth--as he now wished he had. "You are right," was written, "want all my girls to share alike." "Which daughter do you refer to?" was asked. "Went away from her in Florida--Violet," was the answer. I remarked, "Why, I thought Violet was one of the unmarried girls, but it must be that that is the name of the married daughter." Then Mr. U. was strongly urged to call on Mr. Smith's married son, James, with whom Mr. U. had a slight acquaintance, and tell him of this communication.