"Is Mary strong enough to speak to me to-night?"

Rap! rap!

"Is she happy?"

Rap! rap!

"What makes her unhappy? What does she want? Will you spell it
out?"

Rap! rap! rap!

Then, after a pause, the rapping started slowly, and distinctly
to spell out words. It was so weird and uncanny that I scarcely
breathed. Letter after letter the message came, nineteen raps for
"s," eight for "h," five for "e," according to the place in the
alphabet, numerically, of the required letter. At last it was
complete.

"She thinks you are not well. She asks you to have that
prescription filled again."

"Tell her I will do it to-morrow morning. Is there anything
else?"

Rap! rap! came back faintly:

"John, John, don't go yet," pleaded the old man earnestly. It was
easy to see how thoroughly he believed in "John," as perhaps well