Diary fiction; England -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Men -- England -- Fiction; Middle class -- Fiction; Suburban life -- Fiction
We arranged to have one more to-morrow, as it will be Mrs. James’ last
night in town. We also determined _not_ to have Gowing present.
Cummings, before leaving, said it was certainly interesting, but he
wished the spirits would say something about him.
JUNE 4.—Quite looking forward to the séance this evening. Was thinking
of it all the day at the office.
Just as we sat down at the table we were annoyed by Gowing entering
without knocking.
He said: “I am not going to stop, but I have brought with me a sealed
envelope, which I know I can trust with Mrs. Pooter. In that sealed
envelope is a strip of paper on which I have asked a simple question. If
the spirits can answer that question, I will believe in Spiritualism.”
I ventured the expression that it might be impossible.
Mrs. James said: “Oh no! it is of common occurrence for the spirits to
answer questions under such conditions—and even for them to write on
locked slates. It is quite worth trying. If ‘Lina’ is in a good temper,
she is certain to do it.”
Gowing said: “All right; then I shall be a firm believer. I shall
perhaps drop in about half-past nine or ten, and hear the result.”
He then left and we sat a long time. Cummings wanted to know something
about some undertaking in which he was concerned, but he could get no
answer of any description whatever—at which he said he was very
disappointed and was afraid there was not much in table-turning after
all. I thought this rather selfish of him. The séance was very similar
to the one last night, almost the same in fact. So we turned to the
letter. “Lina” took a long time answering the question, but eventually
spelt out “ROSES, LILIES, AND COWS.” There was great rocking of the
table at this time, and Mrs. James said: “If that is Captain Drinkwater,
let us ask him the answer as well?”
It was the spirit of the Captain, and, most singular, he gave the same
identical answer: “ROSES, LILIES, AND COWS.”
I cannot describe the agitation with which Carrie broke the seal, or the
disappointment we felt on reading the question, to which the answer was
so inappropriate. The question was, “_What’s old Pooter’s age_?”
This quite decided me.
As I had put my foot down on Spiritualism years ago, so I would again.
I am pretty easy-going as a rule, but I can be extremely firm when driven
to it.
I said slowly, as I turned up the gas: “This is the last of this nonsense
that shall ever take place under my roof. I regret I permitted myself to
be a party to such tomfoolery. If there is anything in it—which I
doubt—it is nothing of any good, and I _won’t have it again_. That is
enough.”
Mrs. James said: “I think, Mr. Pooter, you are rather over-stepping—”
I said: “Hush, madam. I am master of this house—please understand that.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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