our hands off, and my client pushed the slate towards me. I opened it, and there, sure enough, was a letter addressed to me, written in the fine-pointed style then com monly used by women of good education. I afterwards saw many letters written by Esther Morris during her lifetime, and must admit the striking resemblance between the handwriting of them and of the letter I saw on the slate. There was nothing remarkable about this letter except its evident femininity, and the fact that the mind which conceived it was familiar with our case. I must confess that in spite of my incredulity there was some thing eerie in the idea of a letter written by one in the spirit world, in such a manner, under my very eyes in broad open day. But I had long before decided not to waste any of my allotted span in speculating on actual or apparent mysteries of this sort. The writer stated that she had been a long time endeavoring to find Williams and get him to give her information in regard to his transaction with Cooper, so that I might have the advantage of knowing ex actly what had occurred between them. This, she said, was a difficult matter, as the "disembodied" —•such was the term she used —- were very loath to revert to events happening in the earthly life unless some strong passion or close attachment still bound them to it. The matter of the Cooper Hill Mining Company not greatly impressing the spirit-nature of Mr. Williams, being merely an incident of his mortal ex istence, it was difficult to get him to recur to it. Indeed, she said, he seemed to have lost all interest in earthly affairs except as they might affect his son, now a young man of about twenty years of age. Her reason for advising the continuance was only that she might yet learn something to our ad vantage from Williams. I was struck with the fact that she did not profess to know everything, nor to predict the future, the ability to do which we are, I think, unreas
onably inclined to attribute to departed spirits. So our case was continued at this term, and also at the next; the last time at our cost, the judge making that a condition. The same ghostly mummery was again gone over, with about the same result, except that my disembodied partner seemed not a little annoyed at her continued inability to accomplish more definite ends. At the next fall term, a year after the first consulta tion, came a startling change of programme. The defendants had made it up with Garner, who was again his old place as book keeper at the mine. Our own best witness had left the state on a journey to the West, and would not return until after the term. This journey had been undertaken without our knowledge or consent, and, as his evi dence was material, we were not only in no condition to try, but had good cause for further continuance, which I urged as the only proper course to pursue. But the mes sages from the spirit-world were very posi tive the other way. No sort of persuasion could induce my astral associate to accede to my opinions, and my client took her ad vice, not mine. So we notified our oppo nents that we would try at that term. It may be imagined that I was in no amiable mood on the morning when our case was reached, and the clerk called, as the next in order on his trial-docket, Morris v. The Cooper for plaintiff. Hill Mining Company, Mr. "Are you ready? " asked the judge. "I will call our witnesses and ascertain, your Honor," was my reply. I went to the clerk's desk with leaden feet, half-inclined to throw up my brief and quit the case, even then. The clerk handed me the package of papers; I sorted out the subpoenas for our witnesses; called their names; asked to be allowed a moment to confer with my client; stepped across the bar, and made one more appeal to his common sense as against his superstition.
