PETER. [_Stubbornly_.] I don't believe in spook mediums and never shall
believe in them.

DR. MACPHERSON. Probably most professional mediums cheat--perhaps every
one of them; but some of them are capable of real demonstrations at times.

PETER. Once a swindler, always a swindler. Besides, why can't my old
friends come straight back to me and say, "Peter Grimm, here I am!" When
they do--if they do--I shall be the first man to take off my hat to them
and hold out my hand in welcome.

DR. MACPHERSON. You ask me why? Why can't a telegram travel on a fence
instead of on a wire? Your friends could come back to you if you could put
yourself in a receptive condition; but if you cannot, you must depend upon
a medium--a sensitive.

PETER. A what? [_To_ CATHERINE.] Something new, eh? He has all the names
for them. Yesterday it was "apports"--flowers that fell down from nowhere
and hit you on the nose. He talks like a medium's parrot. He has only to
close his eyes and along comes the parade. Spooks! Spooky spooks! And now
he wants me to settle my worldly affairs and join in the procession.

CATHERINE. [_Puzzled_.] Settle your worldly affairs? What do you mean,
Uncle Peter?

PETER. [_Evasively_.] Just some more of his nonsense. Doctor, you've seen
a good many cross to the other world; tell me--did you ever see one of
them come back--one?

DR. MACPHERSON. No.