Evening star., 1895-08-17
A CONFUSED IDENTITY.
Similar Names Start n Long Process
sion OF Mistakes.

sion OF Mistakes.
'I am not believer in the supernatural,
and 1 am certainly not a theosophist," as
serted a bright, clipper old lady to The
Star writer as she turned from the post
office window Monday, after an interview
with the powers in which she was en-
deavoring to establish her identity, land
neither do 1 believe in the 'fates' or evil
stars or anything of that kind, but l am
launted, or hoodooed whichever you may
desire to call it, by dead woman. 1 never
knew her in life, never knew that she had
lived. in fact until she had given up the
struggle. 1t was the day she died and the
notice was put in the papers that my
'hant' began business. This lady lived on
the same street with me, about fourteen
blocks distant, so l have learned since,
and We moved to another street on the
same day that this estimable woman de-
parted for the silent land
THE next day my daughter got two let
ters Of coincidence on her sad bereavement
OF course, we didn't know what to make
of It. That evening a lady called to leave
her card. Our maid knowing the lady quite
well said Mrs. NJ, my daughter, was re-
ceiving, and in surprised but subdued
manner walked into my daughters pres
ence, and, being tender hearted and recent
ly bereaved herself, burst into passion or
sympathetic tears. My daughter naturally
asked an explanation, and though it was
sorry joke, We all had Il merry laugh over
it.
The lady who died was my own age,
bore my own Initials and name and was
born in the town where l spent most Of
my life. The publication of her death no
tice in The Star having been seen by
friends led them to think that l had
parted this life. The next day cards rafned
in on u.s. and five more letters. The next
week the mail of the dead woman began
to come to me. Letters, papers, magazines
they all found their way to our house,
! I, 1oIt -ho ho D6
no friends to look after her affairs, l pre-
sumo, and the house was shut up, and the
city directory gave my address, but not
hers.
II wouldn't have minded them so much.
but there also came duns and circulars,
bills for the literature and newspapers.
Finally we got worried We could not tell
until the letters We're opened whether they
were for me or the dead woman. So often
I sent back opened letters, marked "opened
by mistake" that 1 began to fear the law.
Then casual acquaintances of the dead
woman began to call on me, having seen
my name in the society notes. to congratu-
late me on not being dead! And all the
time 1 was or rather the woman whom
they thought wasn't dead, was dead, while
was alive. Then we moved again, and
people who used to be our best friends be-
gan to drop me from their invitation list,
having got the vague impression that
was dead, which a few speaking acquaint-
ances confirmed by asserting that my name
wood. 1T certainly was, for they had seen
itp
"The worst of it was they had seen my
name. but 1 was not there; that is, If it is
/ who lie under the stone, my astral body
is pretty lively, don't you think so? At
last had got rid of the namesake's letters
and papers, but mine also were missing
from the time we moved to our present
address. My daughters mail came all
right, but mine suddenly stopped. I came
up today to investigate. and find that my
namesake now appears in the directory as
dead while do not appear at all for some
inscrutible reason, that the spectral
mail forwarded by our other postman to
our new address has fallen into the hands
of one who knew the 'hant' and of her
death, and who has been herding the mail
back to the writer's or to the dead letter
office, much to my distress Of mind. / am
now trying to establish my identity. Real
ly, it is almost uncanny, and my nerves
are actually suffering from the persistent
manner in which the dead woman's per-
sonality pursues me-"