Cooke' (out of compliment),
and added that of a musical friend whom I will call 'Ernest Alexander.'
I also wrote the names 'Jessie' and 'David,' folded the sheet once, and
retained it under my hand. Upon her return the psychic seated herself at
the battered oval table, and, taking up a pair of hinged school slates,
began to clean them with a cloth. I am not going to detail my
precautions. You must take my detective work for granted. Moreover, in
this case I was awaiting the voices; the slate-writing was gratuitous.
She took the slates (between which I had dropped my slip of paper),
and, putting them beneath the table, asked me to hold one corner."

"I _wish_ they wouldn't do that," protested Fowler. "It isn't necessary.
I've had messages on slates held in my own hands six feet from the
psychic."

"As we sat thus she told me that she had never been in a trance, and
that she never permitted the dark. 'I force my guides to work in the
light,' she said. She declared that the whispers which I was presently
to hear came to her under all conditions, and that her spirit friends
talked to her familiarly as she went about her household duties. She
assured me that 'they' were a great help and comfort to her. 'Dr. Cooke'
was her ever-present guide and counsellor, and her father and brother
were always near.

"It was plain that she did not stand in awe of them, for after half an
hour's wait she grew impatient and called out in an imperious tone:
'Come, dear, I want you. Come, anybody.' Two or three times she spoke
loudly, clearly, as if calling to some one through a thick wall. This
interested me exceedingly. Generally psychics are very humble and
patient with their 'guides.' A few moments later the slates began to
slam about so violently beneath the table that her arm was bruised, and
she protested sharply: 'Don't do that. You will break the slates and the
table both!' Thereupon the 'forces' quieted down till only a peculiar
quiver remained in them. I could hear writing going on steadily.

"At last a tap came to announce that the messages were written. The
psychic withdrew the slates and handed them across the table to me. I
opened them and took out my paper. On one slate was a message from 'Dr.
Cooke,' the guide; on the other were these words, written in
slate-pencil: '_I would that you could see me as I am now, still
occupied, and happy to be busy._' This was followed by four lines and
three little marks, evidently intended