Los Angeles daily herald., 1886-12-19
WAS IT A GHOSTS HAND.
The extraordinary story of N
Man Who Is Not a Spi rit ualist.

man Who Is Not a Spi ttualtst.
Another of those unusual events, as
cribed by Spirtualists to "materializa-
tion of the soul from the other world, "
and by the ordinary superstitions to
what are called the general term
@.ghosts, which have recently agitated
people in various parts of ST. Louis, has
Just been made known as having oc-
CURED something more than week ago,
in the house at No. IL, North Seventh
street. The ground floor of the build
ing is occupied as saloon, while the
above two stories are used as gentle
mans lodging. house, managed by Mrs.
Ridgeway. Among her patrons is J, G.
Haskell, who keeps small cigar store
on Sixth street, between Olive and
Locust. Mr.. Haskell is gentleman of
about 40 years old, whose reputation
for honesty and perfect sobriety is high
among those who know him, otherwise
they would laugh at the story which he
tells of his experience in his room on the
night of Friday, October 29th. Unfor-
tunately he has no witness to corrobo-
rate his story, but the circumstances de-
scribed by him as the result of his "visi.
tation" were found to exist exactly as
detailed. One circumstance which
would tend to dscredit the facts stated,
Is that Mr. Haskell is inclined toward
Spiritualism. Eight or ten years ago he
said he became interested in a series of
seances in San Francisco, sat which he
saw many things that did not appear
possible of explanation without accept.
ance of the theory of supernatural
agency" He is not willing to admit
that he is Spiritualist, however, and
says that he has not had any seances,
NOR been actively interested in the sub.
ject for at least eight years. He states
positively that thought of any spirit,
or of anything connected with Spiritual
Ism, was not in his mind on the evening
In question, and that he could not by
any possibility have deem deceived by a
dream or thought that sleeping vision
was o reality.
Mr.. Haskell occupies the ballroom
on the third floor of the building, a
small apartment in which no one but
himself could be present without his
knowledge. His story is as follows:
@'About 10 o'clock l closed the store
and walked home. Arriving there /
went into the room of Walter Ridge.
way, son of the landlady, as l was &C.
customed to do, and sat for some time
engaged in conversation. Going to my
room, 1 closed and locked the door and
prepared to go to bed. My hands were
so1ed from the stove, and I washed
them. On the washstand stood my
light, 8 large lamp, the chimney of
which was an ordinary one, secured in
it's place by long springs. Ths lamp had
been burning at least ten minutes when
4 was ready to go to bed, and the chin
ney was very hot. / stood near the
washstaud, just about to blow the light
out, when was astonished to see
hand clasp the chimney and raise it up.
1t was small white hand, very delicate
and well shaped, and ON the third finger
was gold ring, which l saw as plainly
as l ever saw any thing in my life. The
glass was raised about six inches, as
well as l could judge. from the burner,
and then the hand carried it slowly to.
ward my breast. | Strengthened up, in
surprise, and remained standing a few
seconds, little more than two feet from
the washstand. The hand and glass an.
preached my breast, and when within
few inches from me the fingers opened,
and the chimney fell with crash to the
Hoor, so near my feet that some of the
pieces of glass cut one of them slightly
snd made it bleed. At the same in.
stant the lamp blazed up, the whole top
Of IL seeming to be on fire. The fame
was SO large aud so high that was
afraid the room would take fire, and at