A MOST EXTRAORDINARY COINCIDENCE.

Temuka Leader, Issue 2135, 9 December 1890, Page 3

A MOST EXTRAORDINARY COINCIDENCE.

Matthew Fidler, butter merchant, s J Gottenberg, Sweden, has written to a 8 merchant in Christchurch asking B I whether there is any truth in the 3 following : r On the night of the 29th-30fch r September, 1890, we had a terrible t storm, which shook the house and windows so much that I was unable s to sleep; so in the morning J had I some breakfast brought to my room in i order that I might lie on a little longer and try to. get more refreshed before rising. 1 dreamed that I was sitting by the side of a stream painting a landscape with hills in the distance looting so dim and shadowy that I could scarcely decide whether they were hills or merely clouds. Whilst busily engaged with my work I heard someone approach the place where I was sitting, and I felt that my work was being examined, and began to feel somewhat uncomfortable. I pretended, however, to take no notice ef my visitor, although I felt a kind of curiosity to know who it might be. Very soon I heard a voice say " That's not bad, can you paint portraits as well ? " •'No," I replied somewhat sharply. I felt annoyed at the manner in which I was spoken to, and was inclined to retort" Anyone might know you to be an Englishman, for no one else would take the liberty of speaking to a stranger." I wanted to turn round to see what he was like, and yet I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing that I cared so much about knowing who or what he was, so I began immediately to pack up my paints, with the intention of leaving him, and whilst, I was doing this he i further asked, "Do you know Castle i Hill ? " " Yes," was my reply, with- | out thinking whether I did or did not, i j for after I had replied to his question i I began to wonder where Castle Hill ] was. I thought I knew when he asked me, but on further reflection I i eame to the conclusion that I did not, i although the name was quite familiar. < In a careless sort of way he said 1 "If you are passing that way you can i just inform my people that I was not 1 able to keep my appointment, for a ] change called death overtook me about ( six days ago." "Very well," I said; i and I turned round to look at him, 1 when I saw he was a man between i twenty and thirty years of age, rather. 1 stout, and apparently sft 8m or sft lOin in height. The color of his hair and whiskers were slightly sandy. He had a moustache, but no beard. He was lounging up against a tree, and 1 was dressed in a tweed suit, and it I crossed my mind that he must have ( been accusstomed to riding, as he wore \ very tight trousers and his legs < appeared to be just a little bent, as ] though he had been much on horse- y back. He had on a darkish grey soft t hat; in fact, his hat and clothes very a much corresponded; but as this was i all taken in at a glauce, as it were, I r perhaps did not get such a good I picture of him as I might have done. 1 He had on a short tight jacket buttoned f closely up to the neck. It appeared i rather tight for him, as in buttoning i it it was drawn into wrinkles. c After taking this short survey of 1 him, I continued to pack away my i brushes and paints and asked," Where r do you live ? " forgetting that there i was anything inconsistent in asking a such a question of a man who said he t had died about a week ago, " I have 3 no particular place of residence just 1 at present ? was his reply : " but I e died at Christchurch," " Christchurch, [ a that is in London, is it not ?" Tasked, f I " Not the Christchurch I mean. It is 1 in New Zealand." "Very well, I'll t tell them; but what is your name ?" 1 I asked. "My name is George Dun- 1 can Lockhart." "Very good, I'll 1 attend to what you wish," I said, r "Oh, but you had better write the t name down, so that you don't forget 1 it," he said, still looking at me packing i away my paints, &c„ but apparently a not much interested in them or any- 1 thing else, not even the the subject of t our conversation Beemed to be of any \ great importance to him. t The dream did not appear to have t occupied more than a few seconds. I i had not the slightest idea of having 1 for a moment ceased my reading. 1 After he had told me to make a note t of his name,*l seemed to'.have suddenly < awoke, and almost immediately arose < to write the name and the ether par- 1 ticulars which I have related. t Matthew Fidleh. 1 Gothenburg, Sweden, 1 80th September, 1890; 1

The Press says: —The extraordinary feature of the affair is that, as our readers are aware, there was an old Canterbury settler, Mr George Duncan Lockhart, who died in Christchurch somewhat suddenly on the 13th of September last, or 17 days before the date of Mr Fidler's dream. Mr Fidler was anxious to know whether there was "anything in" his dream, more particularly because in April last an announcement of a similar mysterious nature was made in Gothenburg regarding the death of a man named Sven Stromberg in an out-of-the-way settlement in Canada, and subsequent inquiry showed that a man of that name did actually die in the settlement in question about a week before. In regard to Castlehill, the place mentioned in Mr Fidler's dream, it will be remembered, «iat Mr Lockhart's family came from Cambrus Nathan in Perthshire, and we are informed that there [is a place called Castlehill in that i neighborhood, which the deceased

[gentleman frequently mentioned. It may be added that the letter, which as we hare said, is dated Gothenburg, September 30th, bears a postmark which shows that it was posted in a railway train in Sweden en Oetober 18th, 1890, and it ai rived in Christchurch on December Ist. There was no time for the notification of the death to reach Sweden by mail eren by the 18th October. I