VOICES NOT OUR OWN
MANY peculiar circumstances and events connected with my childhood throng the chambers of memory. For some twelve months, when I was about eight years old, I repeatedly heard a voice, calling me distinctly by name, three times, in an ascending scale. I thought this was my mother's voice, and sometimes went to her, beseeching her to tell me what she wanted. Her answer was always, “Nothing, child! What do you mean?” Then I would say, “Mother, who did call me? I heard somebody call Mary, three times!” This continued until I grew discouraged, and my mother was perplexed and anxious.
One day, when my cousin, Mehitable Huntoon, was visiting us, and I sat in a little chair by her side, in the same room with grandmother, — the call again came, so loud that Mehitable heard it, though I had ceased to notice it. Greatly surprised, my cousin turned to me and said, “Your mother is calling you!” but I answered not, till again the same call was thrice repeated. Mehitable then said sharply, “Why don't you go? your mother is calling you!” I then left the room, went to my mother, and once more asked her if she had summoned me? She answered as always before. Then I earnestly declared my cousin had heard the voice, and said that mother
