WebSadhu

I HAVE only once written for a child (Daisy Pendleton, aged five or six years), and this took place in the presence of her father. He was a complete stranger to me, and was introduced by letter. On his arrival I asked him who it was with whom he wished to be in touch, and he said that it was his daughter; it did not strike me at the time that the daughter might be a little child.

Mr. Pendleton sat at the other end of the room while I was writing, and said quite naturally: "Daisy, will you give your father a message?"

My hand wrote quickly: "My daddy, my daddy."

I replied (on paper): "Yes, he is here."

She then wrote: "Dickie has been my great love, he was a sad boy.... Is Daddy very sad, cos I am so happy.... His girlie has so loved her father...tell him so. My brother Dickie, can he feel me?"

Mr. Pendleton said that Dickie was Daisy's favourite brother: he had been intensely sad after her death, and puzzled as to what had happened to her.

The father answered several questions aloud, apparently confident that the child could hear.

In answer to "Have you seen Baby lately?"

Daisy wrote: "My daddy, yes, course I have.... My daddy, yes, yes."

The next question was: "How many teeth has Baby?"

Daisy wrote: "Yes, teeth number 3 (written as a mirror image 3 and then 3), I think. And you were pleased."

Two drawings followed, the first of My horse wot I rode and the second "Pussy fluffy with big tail."

Daisy's message closed with the words: "Give my love to Dickie, and be my own Daddy still. Daisy."

Mr. Pendleton said that the answers to these questions were correct, and that the drawings represented two of her pets.

He sent some further questions by letter, but the answers to these were unsatisfactory on the whole, possibly because the father was not present.

My interview with Mr. Pendleton took place on December 2nd, 1916, and on the evening of December 3rd I had a curious experience. I was sitting in my room, in a dim light, and suddenly saw (clairvoyantly) a short dark man standing in the room. He had brush-like hair and moustache, which gave him a curious appearance, small, very humorous eyes, and curling eyelashes. He was dressed in blue serge, and wore a flat black bow at his collar, rather large. He seemed to be greatly amused, and was smiling broadly; his appearance was so real that I found myself involuntarily smiling back at him! He vanished quite suddenly, and it was not until months afterwards that a possible clue was supplied by Mr. Pendleton, who wrote as follows: "I may possibly have known the man you saw clairvoyantly, although the description does not tally exactly with anyone that I can call to mind. The man I have in mind was called Walter."

On another occasion, I woke in the night, or early morning, and saw the figure of a young officer rush through my room, apparently without being aware of me.

He seemed to come through the outer wall, and go out at the door; his feet were a yard or more from the floor. He was in khaki, but wore no cap, and his hair was streaming with perspiration; his face was very tense and strained, and he was looking towards the ceiling as if be saw nothing. He was apparently in great distress, and I could only ask mentally that help might be sent to him. I have no idea who he was, and have never been able to identify him.

During the summer of 1917, another stranger, Mrs. Alderton, living in Yorkshire, was introduced to me by letter; as in the case of Mr. Pendleton, the introduction came through an Associate of the Society for Psychical Research, Miss H.. A. Dallas, 'whose books brought her many enquiries from bereaved parents, and who had arranged to make occasional use of my power of automatic writing, where it seemed to her that such help would be desirable.

Mrs. Alderton was anxious to receive a message from her son Kenneth, who had been killed in the war; she was in very close touch with him, and there was a strong link of understanding between them, as well as of affection.

She came to see me on several occasions, when I wrote for her. Part of the communication seemed to be confused, but a great deal of it was clear, and undoubtedly characteristic of her son.

I give rather a detailed account of these messages, and the mother's verification of them, as their evidential value was heightened by my knowing nothing whatever, at the time of writing, of the history of the Aldertons.

From the statements made by Kenneth, he seems to have had some knowledge of the kind of message that might contain useful evidence, for even before I had seen his mother he wrote: "Sandgate send to....

Mrs. Alderton had written to me from London, and Sandgate conveyed nothing to me in connection with her; but a letter from her stated: "I was on my way to Sandgate, or Folkestone, which is one with Sandgate.... He (Kenneth) had specially happy memories of this place, where he had spent more than one holiday, and it looked as if he knew, and wished to mark his knowledge of where I was going."

At the same time, also before his mother came, Kenneth Wrote: "Mother has three children," and Mrs. Alderton told me afterwards that this was correct.

Later in the day, when his mother was present, he wrote: "Rachel is well; say she believes in her daughter's faith, and she is happy.... Tell mother this."

Rachel was the name of Mrs. Alderton's mother, who had, died.

One small point puzzled Mrs. Alderton, but she was able to explain it later.

Kenneth wrote: "Which face is fuller?"

Mrs. Alderton, writing later, says I have been impressed by some things which simply puzzled us when you wrote them, and I feel I must write and tell you of them. Do you remember saying 'Which face is fuller'? in a puzzled voice, after you had written it down, and adding 'I do not know what that means.' When a very intimate friend of his and mine, to whom I showed the script, saw this, she gave expression to the thought which had passed through my mind a few minutes before.

Does this mean...Which face is fuller of the two photographs?... I have always with me two photographs of him, taken at the interval of a year." Here followed a detailed description of the two photographs, pointing out that one showed the face as thinner than the other.

On August 4th, 1917, when Mrs. Alderton was not present, her son wrote: "Alderton has seen his father at his work Golden," later written as "Gold."

This reference conveyed nothing to me at the. time, but Mrs. Alderton wrote: "It struck me as most remarkable. His father had been a little time previously at a place called the Gold Fields, where his work, nothing to do with gold, had taken him. There seems a distinct allusion to the Gold Fields. You could have had no conceivable knowledge of this, and I was not there to convey it to your subconscious telepathically, and it was not the kind of thing you would come upon by chance, so that it seems to me more remarkable than anything else we have obtained."

This message was prefixed by the emphatically-written instruction "Go to her and say,"' as if it had some special significance.

Other statements made by Kenneth, and confirmed by his mother, were as follows

Daily I see mother fondly take my photo, and speak to me.... My Mother was a great player of game, chess...would you ask her to play still, it is an excellent game, Alderton will find a partner for mother.... I love play lente, Alderton wanted fellows to be quiet when you played.... Flowers he still loves."

Mrs. Alderton was very musical, and a great chess-player, but had given up the latter since her son's death, as she had chiefly played with him.

One day he wrote...I fetch granny," and then followed a message from Mrs. Alderton's mother Dear...your mother...you are puzzled, why? My help is ready...your boy is alive, and well, and gay."

Some reference was made to an old friend in the following words: "Ruth was a help...Ruth was worried, worried that special day, do you remember?... Ship...India...so long ago, dear...think, think..."

The "Ruth" referred to was a great friend of Mrs. Alderton's, who took temporary charge of Kenneth when a child.

The "special day" referred to was the day they sailed for India, when their luggage was lost and nearly left behind.

References to two school friends were made on another occasion, as follows: "Mother, I am, here, my friend, too, is here, John.... My mother met him at Sandgate once, long ago."

His mother wrote thus about. this friend: The only friend named John I knew my son ever to have had was a very dear boy, who passed over a few weeks after he did. I had met him 'once long ago,' but this did not take place at Sandgate, neither was it at Sandgate that my son had known him. The mistake disappointed me.... Much later on, at a sitting with another psychic, I enquired about this boy John, mentioning only his surname, which was curious and unusual, and was then told that my son, the purporting communicator, wished to say that his friend had been mentioned before by a psychic previously, but coupled with a wrong suggestion."

Another friend was mentioned in the following words: "Mother, Leep has died, do you know?

" His mother 'wrote, saying: "A short time previously another school-fellow of the same period, whose name began with 'Lep' had, in fact, passed over,"

The following account of communication from a Mr. Marston was published in Light of November 23rd, 1918, and I reproduce it here in the same form.

Mr. Marston died in December, 1916. As his wife had died while their children were young, he had always tried to be both father and mother to' them, in which he had fully succeeded.

The Marston family was quite unknown to me until I met Marion, the second daughter, who was greatly devoted to her father, and quite inconsolable at his death.

She was able to verify the allusions made to her mother by referring to her elder sister; as she herself was a tiny child at the time of her mother's death. The home was broken up after the father's death, and Marion was working independently when I met her. It was only after I had written for her father that she told me anything of her family history and circumstances.

The communications are shortly reported as follows:

November 5th, 1917.-Question: Is this Marion Marston's father? Answer: Graham M.

Note.-Christian name correct.

November 5th, 1917-"My handshake was better for Marion's teaching."

Note.-He had a peculiar way of shaking hands, and Marion had tried to teach him to grip less hard.

November 5th, 1917-"Ida had a peculiar way of saying 'Dad,' peculiar to the Marston family."

Note.-This was correct. The "Ida" referred to was the elder sister.

November 6th, 1917.-"Been to see your grandfather Bill, with the far away gaze I know so well-like my child-led a quiet and beautiful life."

Note.-The grandfather's name was William. All these allusions were perfectly correct.

November 6th, 1917.-"I have seen Ida too; her back is well?"

Note.-Ida had been suffering from her back, but had recovered. November 8th, 1917.-"I have seen Marion's mother. Mother has lost her baldness, which was such a pity, was it not?"

Note.-The reference to "Marion's mother" was natural, as Mr. Marston had married a second time. The first Mrs. Marston had become very bald during her last illness her husband had loved her beautiful hair, and had much regretted this disfigurement.

November 8th, 1917.-"Mother used to look very sweet in that coloured jacket; it was between a blue and a green."

Note.-Mrs. Marston wore a dressing-gown exactly of this colour during her last illness.

November 8th, 1917.-"Natural to be by a sofa.... I sat in the corner of one so much, Lassie, did not I?"

Note.-I was sitting with Marion on a sofa writing. The father and daughter had always sat together on a certain sofa in their old home. "Lassie" was his pet name for Marion.

November 8th, 1917.-"We will ask Miss B. if she has some sweet violets, the scent helps me."

Note.-Violets were his favourite flower. There were some faded ones in the room in which we were writing.

November 8th, 1917.-"Golden tree-lupins I loved too...white globe tolerus-flower; beautiful thing."

Note.-Mr. Marston loved flowers, and these were some of his favourites. A gardening index gives "trollius"-"Globe-flower."

November 29th, 1917.-"Marion, why not take that tonic you used to have at home? That pink mixture?"

Note.-Marion was run down at the time. She well remembered a certain pink-coloured tonic which she had been accustomed to take.

November 29th, 1917.-"At seventeen she (Marion) had a great shock. We were away at the time. She was waiting for me to. join her. Ida was away. She (Marion) missed me, and I was very anxious. When we finally did meet it was late, and we missed tram-car. She and I did not get home till after eleven, She was much affected. I am a nervous man myself."

Note.-Marion stated that the above was correct in every detail. Mr. Marston was essentially of a nervous temperament. I knew nothing as to the correctness or otherwise of these answers until I was informed by' Miss Marston.