Bott's Intermundane Seance.

Te Aroha News, Volume 1, Issue 47, 26 April 1884, Page 5

Bott's Intermundane Seance.

The little apaihncnt -where Bott held what he called his " Tntcnnundanc Seances " was small and stuffy. A Minulacium of a chest of drapers in one corner wu.s really BotlV bed, where the seer reposed at night, and which, tilted up against the wall dining the day, contained the lank bedclothes, long innocent of the washtub. There were a dozen or so of cane-bottom chairs a little table for a lamp, but no other furniture At one side ot the room was a small cupboard without a door, but with ad.uk and dirty curcain hung befoie its apertiue. Around it was a wooden railing, bieast high. A boy with a high forehead, and hair combed behind eai> large and flaiing like those of u rabbit, sat by the door, and took the tickets of in\ ited guests and the halfdollars of the casuals. The seer recen ed everybody w ith a ner\ cle-s shako ot a clammy hand, .showed them to .seats, and exchanged a word or two about the weather, and the " conditions, %> fa\ouiablc or otheiwise, to spiritual acth ity. The ciowd weie mostly ai titans w ho^e love of the marvellous was not held m control by any educated judgment. They had long, .serious facet-, and e\ cry man ot them woie long hair and a sott hat. Their women were generally >ad, bruken-sphited drudges, to whom this kind of show was like an opera or a ball. There weic two or tlnee shamefaced belio\ei.s of the better class who scoffed a little, but ticmbled in secret, and a few avowed .sceptic-, joung clerks on a mild spree, ready tor fun if any should present it.self. Bott stepped inside the railing by the closet, and placing lii- hands upon it, addressed the assembly. He did not know what peculiar .shape the manifestations of the e\ening might take. They weic in search of truth; all truth was good. They hoped for \isitoi% from the unseen spheres; he could piomhe nothing. In this very room the spirits of the departed had wfilked and talked with their friends ; perhaps they might do it again ;he knew not. How they mingled in the earth-life he did not pretend to say ; perhaps they materialised tluough the medium ; perhaps they dematenalLscd mateiial from the audience which they icmaterialised in \ wine forms; as to that, the opinion of another— lie said with a spacious magnanimity — wasas- ;^ood as Lis. He would now request two of fie audience to step up and tie him. One of ihe long-haired ruminant men stood up, and a young fellow, amidst much nudging and giggling among the was also forced Irom his chair. They came forward, the believer with a business-like air which showed practice, and the young sceptic blushing and ill at ease. Bott took a chair inside the curtain, and showed them how to tie him. They bound him hand and foot, the believer testified that the binding was solid, and the sceptic went to his seat, playfully stepping upon the toes of his scoffing friends. The curtain was lowered, and the lamp was turned down. In a few minutes a scuilling sound was heard in the cupboard, and Bott's coat came flying out into the room. The believer pulled back the curtain, and Bott sat in his chair, his shirt sleeves gleaming white in the dusk. His coat was laid over his shoulders, and almost as soon as the curtain was lowered he yelled for light, and was disclosed sitting tied as before, clothed in his right coat. Again the curtain went dow n, amid a sigh of satisfaction from the admiring audience, and a choking voice, which tried hard not to sourd like Bott's, cried outfiomthc cup board, "Turn down the light; we want more power." The kerosene lamp was screwed down till hardly a spark illumined the visible darkness, and suddenly a fiery hand appeared at the aperture of the closet, slowly opening and shutting its long fingers. A half-dozen voices murmured. " A spirit hand ;" but Sam Sleeny whispered to Maud, " Them are Bott's knuckles, for coin." The hand was withdrawn, and a horrible face took its place — a pallid corpse-like mask, with lambent fire sporting on the narrow forehead and the high cheek-bones. It stayed only an instant, but Sam said, "That's the way that Bott will look in—" " Hush !" said Maud, who was growing too nervous to smile, for fear of laughing or crying. A sound of sobbing came from a seat to the right of them. A poor woman had recognised the face as that of her husband who had died in the army, and .'he was drawing the most baleful inferences from its fiery adjuncts A moment later, Bott came out of the cupboard crouching „o low that his head was hardly two feet from the ground. lie had a sheet round his neck, covering his whole person, and a white cap over his head, concealing most of his face. In this constrained attitude he hopped about the clear space in front of the audience with a good deal of dexterity, talking baby-talk in a shrill falsetto, '•Howdy, pappa? Howdy, mamma? Itty Tudie turn adin !"

A rough man and woman, between joy and grief, were half hysterical. They talked to the toad-liko mountebank in tho most ondearing tones, evidently belioving it was their doad baby toddiing before them. Two or three times tho same horrible imposturo was repeated. Bott never mado his appeavanco without somebody recognising him as a dear departed friend. The dim light, the unwholesome excitement, the servile credulity fixed by long habit, seemed to produce a sort of passing dementia upon the regular habitues. The light was now turned on again, and the tying committee was requested to come forward and examine tho cords with which Bott still seemed tightly bound. The sceplic remained scornfully in his seat, and so it was left for the believer to announce thnt not a cord had been touched. Ho then untied Bott, who came out from the cupboard stretching his limbs as if glad to be free, and announced that there would be a short interchange of views. Then came an unhealthy and even nauseous chatter on all things in heaven and earth, after which people began to drop away one by one. When the lv.st guest had gone Bott rose from his chair, witli no pretence of spiritual dignity, and counted his> money and his tickets. — From " The Breadwinners."