Word: ghosts
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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People who believe in ghosts met last week in Paris-the International Spiritualist Congress. How to greet a ghost when you meet him, was one question that immediately arose. The French delegates said to say: "Welcome, friend." English folk present demurred, said to teach children so would be to frighten them of apparitions in advance...
...shoving and grunting to get in and hear. Lady Doyle took the platform, expostulated, when over the stage came a bursting-party of rowdies, who jostled her rudely and tore down the draperies. Cane and papers in hand, Sir Arthur prepared to flee. Peace returned, however, and the famed ghost-seer was enabled to second everything that Mrs. Cadwallader had said...
...Kissing Ghost. There was Madeleine, for instance, an amorous apparition, whose medium was a rough country cartman with a thick blond mustache. Delegate Thibault, who related Madeleine's doings, said he thought she was a materialization of a 19-year-old girl who died in 1908. She was summoned, he explained, by an arrangement of red lights and phosphorescent screens, which went sailing around the room when she had begun to osculate. She was quit partial to a member of the Portuguese delegation (on the cheek), but often stayed with Delegate Thibault, for hours at a time...
...Ghost Stories. At a soiree held to swap stories, the Duchess of Hamilton, who specializes in healing, told of flooding one patient so strongly with her curative power that his watch stopped as though electrically shocked. Some one else told of having summoned Edward VII of England, who exclaimed upon arrival: "There are no kings here. Call me Teddy!" A Scotch doctor had spoken from "beyond" with a rich burr. A baritone spirit had sung Love's Old Sweet Song quite loudly...
...Painting Ghost. Prom the north of France had came a middle-aged coal miner, Augustin Lesage. In 1912, working as he had worked for 20 years far down in a black bowel of the earth, Augustin heard "voices," like those Joan of Arc declared called her, telling him to stop mining and go to draw and paint. Thinking himself feverish, he went home to bed, whence a power drove him to a city to buy complete painter's equipment, none of the names for which had Augustin ever before known. Back in his cottage, he painted-or rather...