means you ever saw for descending to a lower psychic plane. That's all I
have to tell, and quite enough, I'm sure you'll think.--What? The
Astorian? I have not seen him since.--But there is a little more, a very
little, if you are not tired.--This morning I received a gift of roses,
just like the one I dropped yesterday, brought me by the same small
embryonic I had seen in the flower shop. I asked the child in whose
intelligence the impulse had originated, and he replied:

"A blue-eyed feller with a mustache, but he gave me a plunk not to
tell."

I understood a plunk to be a token of confidence, and I at once
expressed displeasure at the boy's betrayal of his trust. I told him
such an act would make dark lines upon his aura which might not fade for
several days.

"Say, ain't you got some message to send back?" he asked.

"Boy!" said I, "don't forget your little aura."

"All right," he answered, "I'll tell him 'Don't forget your little
aura.' I'll bet he coughs up another plunk."

I don't know what he meant, but I am very much afraid there may be some
mistake.--Oh, yes, I am quite sure to be back in time for the
Solstice.--Or at least for the Eclipse.


THE FOURTH RECORD