Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1920-10-16

Nora knew him. was even less nos
pitable to the unproven that her own,
and whose sense of humor was de-
cidedly more keen, what would ne
have thought of this?
Chances were that If Roger could
really see her sitting there and
know what she was doing he would
laugh aloud, despite his horror ana
surprise.
But Roger, if this mystic enter,
were justified, was no longer SUP
ject to human law and order and
could not, therefore, blame her.
Nor would the ghostly Roger,
whose personality she would fain In
woke, be inclined TO iaugn In any
case. Phantoms seldom laughed; at
least no apparition was on record as
doing so in any of the volumes, OF
psychic science with witch she had
come in contact.
One recent publication recommend
ed by Resale devoted an entire
tivity. One theory advanced was
that phantasms of the dead embody
the thought of the one passed on.
That the individual spirit. in think
ing over it's life and the scenes of it's
varied activities, influences the minds
of those still living and causes them
to see the phantasmal image of the
person" thinking.
However, Morals mind, as she sat
chilled and blue. white in the dim
ness, centered Indignantly on the
chance recollection of this bit OF
psychic lore. The case of appar1tion
is not, the book said, to be explained
telepathic influence welded by a
discarnate spirit. There was much
evidence; it was held. to indicate ac-
tual existence of semi-solid or ma
terial Observation-Disclosures who
came into the room, who reached for
ward, who put out the light. Could
it be that Roger was such-that
Roger, her Roger, would=-no, no
Roger was sane, Roger was whole
some, Roger--her Roger---would
laugh-oh, to hear Roger laugh, just
to hear his laugh
Nora was startled to hear her: own
wild laughter. It was as though the
sophisticated Nora, the usual domi-
nant self, were hugely amused at
this other personality; this poor,
searching, fearful, wistful creature.
sitting there, half wildly eager, half
fearing that which she most wished.
"She will soon have Mysteries" the
sane Morals mental comment.
Well, a. climax at hand, the pointer
moved across the board. Nora bent
closer, shuddering-and the tripod
slipped to the floor from beneath her
chilled fingers.
Reused by the shock of disap-
pointment, she snatched it up, re-
placed the little Triangle of fate, and
again began her vigil. This time no
other sensation penetrated her, not
cold nor fear nor self-consciousness
in any wise. She was no longer
woman, but eagerness personified,
alert, impatient, besieging with ev-
cry power of her being the thrice
barred gates of silence.
But they would not open: Nor
capitulate. Nor even send forth
messenger to parley.
AS this realization pressed down
longing seized Nora and she sobbed
out aloud, calling on Roger to come
Nov! Now!"
But nothing happened. And after
a while she became silent. Presently
the ouija-the wilful ouija--slipped
unregarded to the floor.
What difference? It was no in
strument of fate. Just board,
piece of board, with printed num-
bers.
Roger is dead! No use" Nora
spoke aloud.
After a while the girl rose stif1y
and got into bed, drawing the covers
about her icy form.
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