THURSDAY, MARCH 7, 1929
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| Most writers who attempt to deal
(with psychic phenomena for fictional
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Mary Roberta
Rinehart.
■tale, made Interesting by the skill
fits writer, but not especially remark
jable in any other respect; but under
ithe able treatment which she gives
;the psychic characteristics, it becomes
: something to think about. She does
| not find it necessary to inculcate or
defend a belief in spiritism, neither
does she try to show that all mani
festations in that line are the result
of carefully devised trickery. One
‘gathers that her personal attitude is
that of the open mind. She is not one
to be deceived by charlatanism nor, on
the other hand, one to assert that the
depths of the human soul have been
plumbed or all the hidden resources
of the human mind developed. She is
willing to be enlightened and seems
Inclined to the belief that eventually
science will provide the enlighten
,ment. That is the spirit in whic’i she
weaves psychic phenomena into a story
of human mystery.
The lamp which figures in the .tory
ils a fascinating instrument. Some of
its manifestations are so weird as to
be positively creepy; but the sane peo
ple who witness its baleful influences
never lose sight of the fact that its
apparently phenomenal properties may
have a natural explanation, or are just
as likely to result from clever manipu
lation as from anything emanating
from discarnate sources. Without the
spooky attributes the story would not
Ibe nearly so good as it is; and these
attributes are relieved by Mrs. Rine
hart’s gift for charming romance and
diverting humor.
THE DIARY
Introduction to the Journal of Wil
liam A. Porter, A. 8., M. A., Ph. D.,
Litt. D., etc.
June 30, 1924.
A few weeks ago, at a dinner, a
discussion arose as to the unfinished
dramas recorded in the daily press.
The argument was, if I remember cor
rectly, that they give us the beginning
of many stories, and the endings of
as many more. But that what fol
lowed those beginnings, or preceded
those endings, was seldom or nevei
told.
It was Pettingill. of all persons, who
turned the attention of the table
to me.
“Take that curious case of yours
Porter,” he said. “Not yours, of course
but near your summer place two years
ago. What ever happened there:
Grace and I used to sit up all nighi
to see who would get the morning
paper first; then—it quit on us
That’s all, quit on us.” He surveyed
the table with an aggrieved air.
Helena Lear glanced across at me
maliciously.
“Do tell us, Willie,” she said. She
is the only person in the world who
calls me Willie. “And give us all the
horrible details. You know, I have
always had a sneaking belief that you
did the things yourself!”
Under cover of the laugh that went
up, I glanced at my wife. She was
sitting erect and unsmiling, her face
drained of all its color, staring across
the flowers and candles into the semi
darkness above the buffet. As though
she saw something.
It occurred to me then that many
people throughout the country had
been intensely interested ir our Oak
ville drarqa, and had been left with
that same irritating sense of non
completion. But not only that. At least
three of the women had heard me
make that absurd statement of mine,
relative to the circle enclosing a tri
angle. There were more than Helena
Lear, undoubtedly, who had remem
bered it when, early in July, the news
papers had announced the finding of
that diabolical symbol along with the
bodies of the slain sheep.
It seemed to me that it might be
a duty I owed to myself as well as to
the University, to clarify the matter
In effect to say to them and to the
world at large:
“This is what happened. As you
see, the problem is solved, and here
is your answer. But do uot blame
me if here and there is found an un
known factor in the equation; an X
we do not know what to do with, but
without which there would have been
no solution. I can show you the X
1 have used it. But I cannot explain it."
As will be seen, I have taken that
portion of my Journal extending from
June 16. 1922, to September 10 the
same year. Before that period., an i
after it. it is merely the day-by-■ day
record of an uneventful life. Kathei
purposes, try to
make a case for
the genuineness
of the phenomena-
They seem to
think that the
story will not
“stand up” under
any other method
of treatment. Not
so with Mrs. Rine
hart, who, on
various occasions,
has shown origin
ality and methods
of her own which
have gained her a
high place among
American readers.
Without the
psychic elements
this would be just
another mystery
fully detailed, since like Pepys 1 have
used it as a reservoir into which to
pour much of that residue which re
mains in a man’s mind over and
above the little he gives out each day.
Rather more fully detailed, too, since
I keep it in shorthand, an accomplish
ment acquired in my student days,
and used not to insure the privacy of
the diary itself, although I think my
dear wife so believes, but to enable
me, frankly, to exercise that taste for
writing which exists in all of us whose
business is English literature.
And so—this Journal. Much the
same as when, under stress of violent
excitement or in the peaceful inter
ludes, 1 went to it as one goes to a
friend, secure against betrayal. In
the main it remains as it was, the
daily history of that strange series
of events which culminated so dra
matically on the night of September
10 in the paneled room of the main
house at Twin Hollows.
Os this house itself, since it figures
so largely in the narrative, a few
words should be said. The main por
tion of it, the hall which extended
from the terrace toward the sea
through the rear and the drive, the
paneled den and the large library in
front of it are very old. To this por
tion, in the seventies, had been added
across the hall by some long-forgotten
builder a dining room opposite the
library and facing the sea, pantries,
kitchen, laundry, and beyond the laun
dry a nondescript room originally built
as a gun room and still containing the
gun cases on the walls.
In the rebuilding considerable judg
ment had been shown, and the broad
white structure, with its colonial col
ums to the roof, makes a handsome
appearance from the bay. A place
restful and beautiful to the eye; a
gentleman’s home, with jts larkspurs
and zinnias, its roses and its sun
dial, its broad terrace, its great shel
tered porch and its old paneling. But
it stands idle. It will, so long as I
live, always stand idle.
Os my Uncle Horace, who also fig
ures largely in the Journal, a few
words are necessary. He was born
in 1848, and graduated from this uni
versity with the class of ’7O. He had
died suddenly in June of the year be
fore the Journal takes up the narra
tive, presumably of cardiac asthma,
from which he had long suffered. A
fc. - -
BBrJ ft «
A Gentleman and a Scholar.
gentleman and a scholar, an essential
solitary, there had been no real in
timacy between us. Once in awhile
I passed a week-end in the country
with him, and until the summer of the
narrative, my chief memory of him
had been of a rather small and
truculent elderly gentleman, with the
dry sharp cough of the heart suffer
er, pacing the terrace beneath my
window at night in the endless search
of the asthmatic for air, end smok
ing for relief some particularly ob
noxious brand of herbal cigarette.
Until the summer of the narra
tive — . . .
“All houses In which men have lived
and suffered and died are haunted
houses,” I have written somewhere
in flie Journal. And if thoughts are
entities, which may impress them
selves on their surroundings, perhaps
this is true.
But dare I go further? Restate
my conviction at the time that the
solution of our crimes had been facili
tated by assistance from some unseen
source? And that, having achieved
its purpose, this force forthwith de
parted from us? I do not know.
The X remains unsolved.
But I admit that more than once,
during the recent editing, of this Jour
nal for publication, 1 have wakened at
night covered with n cold sweat, from
a dream in whico I am once more
THE CHATHAM RECORD, PITTSBORO, N. C.
standing in ui me tnw-e at
Twin Hollows the red lamp llglfed
behind me, ar t am looking out inio
the hall at a dim figure standing at
the foot of the s'ai:case.
A figure which could not possibly
be there. But was there.
(Signed) WILLIAM A. PORTER.
June Is.
Commencement w€ek is over at last,
thank heaven. Usual reunions of old
boys, with porters staggering under
the suitcases, which seem to grow
heavier each year.
Nevertheless, the very old ’uns al
ways give me a lump in the throat,
and I fancy there was a considerable
amount of globus hystericus as the
cla§§ of ’7O marched onto the Field on
Class day. Only eight of them this
year, Uncle JMorace being missing.
Pegr old boy!
Which me that Jane
thought she saw him with the others
as they marched in. Wonderful wom
an, Jane! No imagination ordinarily,
meticulous mind and only a faint
sense of humor. Yet she drags poor
old Horace out of his year-old grave
and marches him onto the Field, and
then becomes slightly -sulky with nie
when I laugh!
A curious woman, Jane. • . •
So another year is over, and what
have I to show for it? A small addi
tion to my account in the savings
bank, a volume’ or two of this unevent
ful diary, some hundreds of men who
perhaps know the Cavalier Poets and
perhaps not, and seme few who have
now an inkling that English litera
ture did not begin with Shakespeare.
What have I to look forward to?
Three months of uneventful summer
ing, perhaps at Twin Hollows —if
Larkin ever gets the estate settled—
and then the old round again.
Yet I am not so much discontented
as afraid of sinking into a lethargy
of smug iconoclasm. It is bad for
the soul to cease to expect grapes of
a thistle, for the next stage is to be
“old and a cynic; a carrion crow,”
like the old man in “Prince Otto,” with
rotten eggs the burthen of my song.
June 17.
After all, security has its points.
I am the object of a certain amount
of suspicion today on the part of my
household! There is no place in the
world, I imagine, for a philosopher
with a sense of humor, a new leisure,
and an inquiring turn of mind! These
are times of action. Men think and
then act; sometimes, indeed, they
simply act.
But a philosopher, of course, should
only think. . . .
During some nine months of the
year I bring home to Jane from the
lecture room the mere husk of a man;
exhausted with the endeavor to im
plant one single thought into a brain
where it will germinate, I sink into
my easy chair and accept the life of
my household. Tea. Dinner. A book.
Bed. And this is my yfe. My exist
ence, rather. -
It dawns on a man now and then
that be knows very little about his
wife. He knows, of course, the sur
face attributes of her mind, her sense
of order —Jane is (rderly—her thrift,
and* Jane is thrifty. She has Lad to
he! But it came to me suddenly that
I knew very little of Jane, after all.
I ain sometimes aware that she
possesses certain qualities I do not
possess. For example, it would be
impossible for me to imagine, as Jane
did on Class day, that I saw Uncle
Horace. But it is equally impossible
for me to deny that she did see Uncle
Horace, and there has been a certain
subtle change in her since which con
vinces me of her sincerity.
What then, I considered, is the dif
ference between Jane’s mind and my
own? She has some curious ability,
which she hides like one of the seven
deadly sins, and which makes her at
'•times a difficult person with whom to
live.
Take that incident when she wak
ened me at seven o’clock ana paid she
had seen Uncle Horace lying dead on
the floor of the library at Twin Hoi
lows.
“Dreams,” 1 said drowsily, “are sim
ply wish fulfillments. Go on hack to
bed, my dear. The old boy’s all
right.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” she said quietly.
“And you will have a telephone mes
sage soon telling you I was not.”
And so true was this that she had
hardly ceased speaking before Annie
Cochran called up to tell us she had
found him, at seven o’clock, dead on
the library floor.
(Note: In preparing these notes for
publication one thing occurs to me
very strongly, and that is this: it is
curious that my wife’s vision, or what
ever it may be called, did not occur
until some hours after the death. If
there came some mental call to her,
why not when he was in extremis?
Not only would it have helped us
greatly in the mystery which was so
soon to develop, but it would have
been more true to the usual type ol
such phenomena.
In this case, if we are to'* admit any
thing but coincidence, it is easier to
accept the fact that we are dealing
with mental telepathy. In other
words, that the servant Annie Coch
ran. who actually found the body
seven in the morning, at once thought
of Jane and so flashed the scene to
her
But 1 admit that this is merely ex
plaining one mystery with another.)
What portion of Jane went to Twin
Hollows and found Uncle Horace on
the floor?
It was an interesting thought, and I
played with it out of sheer joy in idle
ness. ’ The Jane then, whom I could
reach out and s touch at night, might
only be the shell of Jane, while the
real Jane might he off on* some spirit
adventure of her own! 1 considered
this. It has, one must admit, its pos- ,
sibilities.
Had she true clairvoyance, what
ever that may mean? Or was telep
athy the answer? She is Scotch, and
the Scots sometimes claim what is
called “second sight.” I know that in
her heart she believes she has this
curious gift. She was, they say, a
queer child, seeing and hearing things
unseen and unheard by others. And
I know she fears and hates it; it is
somehow irreligious to her.
But—has she?
No immediate answer being forth
coming, I consulted the dictionary on
clairvoyance, and found that it was
the faculty of being able to perceive
objects without the customary use of
the senses.
It was “vision without eyes.”
But if Jane can see without her
eyes, if she can perceive objects not
visible to those of us who depend on
the usual senses, then is one to admit
that she saw Uncle Horace, as she
said she did, marching at the head of
his class procession last Tuesday?
(Continued Next Week) (
«>
President Hoover
Endorses C. M. T. C.
♦
Our new President, Herbert
Hoover, had this to say about Citi- -
zens’ Military Training Camps: “The
experience of eight years has thor- -
oughly justified the establishment of
these centers for the voluntary train
ing of the youth of the nation. They
have made their own place in our
plan of democratic government, and
I look with hope and confidence to
their continued and increasing use
fulness.”
When making this statement Pres
ident Hoover voiced not only his own
opinion but also that of organized
labor, of capital and of religious and
educational bodies.
For the past eight years, as re
ported by the Military Training
Camps Association, a non-political
civilian agency, 234,358 young men
have been enrolled to the camps
while 372,293 applied for such en
rollment.
In eight years the number of
camps increased from ten to fifty
one. So pronounced and obvious have
been the benefits that no effective
dissentient voice has been raised
against them. To oppose them is gen
erally considered as ridiculous as to
oppose good citizenship and the feel
ing prevails that so long as the youth
of the land manifests such interest in
the C. M. T. C., we shall know % that
peace and prosperity have not result
ed in “fatty” generation of man’s
mental, moral and physical being.
Each year finds more young men
applying with the consequent result
that the latter applicants have to be
denied the privileges of these campS.
Not only must a young man apply
early to be assured a place in the ■
camps but he must comply as well
.with all the requirements for accept
ance. The date he completes meet
ing these requirements is the de
termining factor as to whether or
not he goes to camp. Many young
men lost their places in camps last
year because they did not promptly
submit evidence of satisfactory in
oculation against typhoid and vacci
nation against smallpox.
Young men from this state can se
cure information concerning these
camps and submit their applications
to C. M. T. C. District Chief, 420
Farmers National Bank Building,
Winston-Salem, N. C.
■
State May Acquire
Valuable Raleigh Lots
The question of whether or not the
state of North Carolina will buy that
piece of land directly opposite the
supreme court building and capital
square, bounded by Fayetteville,
Morgan, and Wilmington streets, in
Raleigh, is now before the legisla
tive appropriations committees The
council of state has authorized an
option at $325,000. If the legisla
ture provides the money the land will
be bought.
NEW BELK STORE
Jim Stephenson, one of the pro
prietors and managers of the
Stephenson-Belk Comnany at Rock
ingham, is opening a new store in
the Belk chain at Winnsboro, S. C. .
He will retain his interest at Rock
ingham. Management of the Rock
ingham store devolves upon Joe
Stephenson, who has assisted his
brother since the firm was establish
ed some twenty years ago.
<e>
ANCHORING HILL
GETS UNDER WAY
Sounds funny to talk about tying
down a hill so it won’t move away,
but that is exactly what is being
done to historic Kill Devil Hill near
Kitty Hawk, scene of the first air
plane flight. The sand dunes in that
section are constantly moving, and
a force of workmen are now build
ing a strong fence around Kill Devil
to hold it one place.
The secretary of the bar associ- •
ation was very busy and very cross
one afternoon, when his telephone
rang.
“Well, what is it?” he snapped.
“Is this the City Gas Works?”
asked a woman’s soft voice.
“No, madam,” roared the secre
tary. “This is the Bar Association
of the City of Louisville.”
“Ah,” came from the lady’s end *.
in the sweetest of tones, “I didn’t]
miss it so far, after all, did I?”
®
666
is a Prescription for
Colds, Grippe, Flu, Dengue,
Billious Fever anl Malaria
It is the most speedy remedy known
DEVELOP COMMUNITY SPIRIT
A community lives and thrives accord
ing to the public spirit which it mani
fests. The best way to show real public
spirit which develops your community
is to support your local business places.
They are here for your convenience and
for your benefit. The community will
prosper to the extent that they prosper,
so SPEND YOUR DOLLARS WHERE
THEY WILL DIRECTLY BENEFIT
YOU. As any community prospers,
many improvements can be enjoyed
. that otherwise would not be possible.
THE BANK OF MONCURE
MONCURE, N. C.
ITS NO JOKE
It was a wise cracker who declared: “It
takes a Scotchman a long time to reach a
givin’ point.” They poke a lot of fun at the
thrifty Scotchmen.
But it is better to be considered “close” and
have funds at the bank, than to be known as
a good fellow—yet “broke.” To be sur,e,
the Scotch are a saving people. They are
frugal and industrious, two habits those who
poke fun at them might well adopt. Start
a bank account. It is no joke to be broke.
THE BANK OF GOLDSTON
HUGH WOMBLE, Pres. T. W. GOLDSTON, Cashier
GOLDSTON, N. C.
THERE ARE NO. WEAK LINKS
IN OUR CHAIN!
I
This bank is strong—strong in Security,
Courtesy, Honesty and Service.
This bank stands ready to serve you—
as it serves many others in Chatham County.'
We transact business in a business-like
way—we are modern in every respect.
Just come in and consult us —we’ll tell
you of the many advantages that accrue to
letting us handle your finances.
BANK OF PITTSBORO
PITTSBORO, N. C.
Last Car of Soy Beans
TO BE DELIVERED AT
PITTSBORO, MONDAY, MARCH II
Consisting of Yellow Mamoth and Laredos
y /
This is our last Co-operative Order of soy
bean seed, so please be on hand promptly
to unload them and save expense of storing.
The car was shipped from Washington,
N. C., March 4, and should be here by
Saturday.
N. C. SHIVER
COUNTY AGENT
PAGE THREE