could scarcely stand it any longer, but I congratulated myself then and there that not one drop of sea-water was allowed to enter my mouth. With renewed determination and set jaws, I swam on. Just at the moment I thought that for lack of breath I would have to give in, I seemed to have been provided with a second wind, and it was just then that the thought that this was my last moment came upon me. I wanted to convey the news of how I died to my loved ones at home. As I swam beneath the surface of the ocean, I prayed that my spirit could go to them and say, “Good-bye, until we meet again in heaven.” In this connection, the thought was in my mind of a well authenticated experience of mental telepathy that occurred to a member of my wife’s family. Here in my case was a similar experience of a shipwrecked loved one, and I thought if I prayed hard enough that this, my last wish to communicate with my wife and daughter, might be granted. To what extent my prayer was answered let Mrs. Gracie describe in her own written words, as follows: “I was in my room at my sister’s house, where I was visiting, in New York. After retiring, being unable to rest I questioned myself several times over, wondering what it was that prevented the customary long and peaceful slumber, lately enjoyed. ‘What is the matter?’ I uttered. A voice in reply seemed to say, ‘On your knees and pray.’ Instantly, I literally obeyed with my prayer book in my hand, which by chance opened at the prayer ‘For those at Sea.’ The thought then flashed through my mind, ‘Archie is praying for me.’ I continued wide awake until a little before five o’clock a. m., by the watch that lay beside me. About 7 a. m. I dozed a while and then got up to dress for breakfast. At 8 o’clock my sister, Mrs. Dalliba Dutton, came softly to the door, newspaper in hand, to gently break the tragic news that the _Titanic_ had sunk, and showed me the list of only twenty names saved, headed with ‘_Colonel_ Archibald Butt’; but my husband’s name was not included. My head sank in her protecting arms as I murmured helplessly, ‘He is all I have in the whole world.’ I could only pray for strength, and later in the day, believing myself a widow, I wrote to my daughter, who was in the care of our housekeeper and servants in our Washington home, ‘Cannot you see your father in his tenderness for women and children, helping them all, and then going down with the ship? If he has gone, I will not live long, but I would not have him take a boat.’”