Among the Spirits

There was a séance in town a few nights since. As I was making for it, in company with the reporter of an evening paper, he said he had seen a gambler named Gus Graham shot down in a town in Illinois years ago by a mob, and as he was probably the only person in San Francisco who knew of the circumstance, he thought he would "give the spirits Graham to chaw on awhile." [N. B. – This young creature is a Democrat, and speaks with the native strength and inelegance of his tribe.] In the course of the show he wrote his old pal's name on a slip of paper, and folded it up tightly and put it in a hat which was passed around, and which already had about five hundred similar documents in it. The pile was dumped on the table, and the medium began to take them up one by one and lay them aside, asking, "Is this spirit present? or this? or this?" About one in fifty would rap, and the person who sent up the name would rise in his place and question the defunct. At last a spirit seized the medium's hand and wrote "Gus Graham" backward. Then the medium went skirmishing through the papers for the corresponding name. And that old sport knew his card by the back! When the medium came to it, after picking up fifty others, he rapped! A committeeman unfolded the paper, and it was the right one. I sent for it and got it. It was all right. However, I suppose all Democrats are on sociable terms with the devil. The young man got up and asked:

"Did you die in '51? '52? '53? '54? ––"

Ghost – "Rap, rap, rap."

"Did you die of cholera? diarrhea? dysentery? dog-bite? small-pox? violent death? ––"

"Rap, rap, rap."

"Were you hanged? drowned? stabbed? shot? ––"

"Rap, rap, rap."

"Did you die in Mississippi? Kentucky? New-York? Sandwich Islands? Texas? Illinois? ––"

"Rap, rap, rap."

"In Adams county? Madison? Randolph? ––"

"Rap, rap, rap."

It was no use trying to catch the departed gambler. He knew his hand, and played it like a major.

About this time a couple of Germans stepped forward, an elderly man and a spry young fellow, cocked and primed for a sensation. They wrote some names. Then young Ollendorff said something which sounded like ––

"Ist ein geist hieraus?" (Bursts of laughter from the audience.)

Three raps – signifying that there was a geist hieraus.

"Vollen sie schriehen?" (More laughter.)

Three raps.

"Finzig stollen, linsowfterowlickterhairowf- terfrowleineruhackfolderol?"

Incredible as it may seem, the spirit cheerfully answered 'Yes' to that astonishing proposition.