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ves left alive they fight against allowing the places
to be sold, but time flies, and some day these men will be dead too, and
there will remain no one to defend them and the old bones will be carted
off, and the worst is that we do get so mixed in these removals. See
that man over there? He belongs to St. Paul's. I think this and that
place will probably be kept inviolate, but who knows? But they are both
so awfully crowded, and they kick like anything about letting any one be
buried in either place now, and in fact no one can be buried there
unless the family owns a vault.

"Now, I suppose that the families all think it is a great thing to have
a vault, and go down a step ladder every time they want to pray and weep
over their dead, but I tell you it matters little where we lie if we can
only be left in peace. If we could all be cremated it would be better
for all concerned, but the ashes should be scattered to the four winds,
for, my young friend, time works many changes, and the needs of the
living are greater than those of the dead. Right here in the vaults of
St. Paul's that man over there in some changing about of bodies, lost
one of his legs, and another was chucked into his coffin, so if you will
notice, he has two right legs, and consequently the other man must have
the two left ones."

The reporter did not exactly know how to take this, and looked at the
bony face for something to show whether this was meant as a pun, or in
simple earnest, but there was nothing to show that this was the
melancholy remains of some humorist who had passed onward, so he said:

"Our lame friend said something about haunts. I did not quite understand
it. I rather infer that they are something ethereal, having no bodies-or-bones,"
he added hesitatingly.

"Haunts, sir; just haunts. Invisible unrealities. There is nothing to
them, and they just hover around. You may have heard of what some men
say who are trying to show you that there is an odic force loose in the
air, and they wish to prove that disembodied spirits can make use of
this force to render themselves visible to experts."

"Meaning mediums?" questioned the young man hastily in his desire to
have that question solved to his entire satisfaction, for he had a
strong leaning to the belief in the occult powers of one medium in
particular who had told him something he thought no one knew but
himself.

"My dear boy, if anybody has told you that mediums or anyone else can
materialize a spirit, that person is seeking to deceive you-possibly
himself also. How is it possible to make something out of nothing?
Unless it is that they make money out of the deception they practice?
When I see the swindling wretches trying to make a fortune out of the
grief of one who has lost a dear one, and who naturally turns to
anything that promises to renew the tie that death has severed, I feel
that I would willingly sacrifice all that I have gained toward my final
release to proclaim the truth. No, friend, there is no means of
communication between the living and the dead. I would there were!"

"Here to-night I have heard that the spirit can leave the body and go
floating around. I see you here now, and suppose it means just the body
as it is-as yours all are. Will you tell me how it is done."

"We can for a time drop off all material parts of ourselves, and then
there is but the spiritual part and that is invisible, and can go
anywhere by a thought. I might explain by asking if you ever saw a flock
of winged ants settle down on the ground and lift off their wings and
leave them there. When I want to leave my body, or what is left of it, I
just give a little and somehow I then leave the body behind and soar
away. Soar after all is not the word to use, for the movement is more
like a flash, and the movement is swift as thought, and nothing is so
swift as that, not even lightning."

"Oh, tell me one other thing, Is there any truth in the theory that
animals have souls, and live again after they have died? I loved a dog,
and he was so faithful, so loving and above all, so intelligent that I
have often wondered what became of my dog after he died. He was born as
we are and died as we do, and in life he showed all the best qualities,
such as honor, devotion, truthfulness and fidelity, and I could somehow
never feel reconciled to think that a creature so good and so noble
could be lost forever. Tell me, shall I ever see my dog again?"

"Rest assured that nothing good and true is ever lost to those who loved
it because of its truth and goodness. I shall expect to find my own dog,
and I am sure that dogs would not have to wait for their passports as we
do, for they are not filled with evil of every kind on earth, and
besides their suffering when in life must count for something."

At this moment there was a grand fanfare of trumpets, and the master of
ceremonies stood on a chair and said in a loud voice:

"All present are invited to be seated as the convention is about to
open."

The young newspaper man noticed all at once that while he had been
talking with the man whose words about dogs had filled his heart with
comfort, for he had loved that dog profoundly, and felt a great void
left in his life when that of his dog went out-there had been a great
change made in the room. The whole great hall had been fitted up with
chairs and there was a platform. In front of the platform were chairs
arranged for special guests, but it was but too evident that no
provision had been made for reporters. This rather surprised him, and he
asked the man next him how it was that the Press was not represented.
The man looked at him a moment as we regard those that ask fool
questions, and then he seemed to relent and answered:

"Sir, there are no newspaper men in this place. The Master who knows all
things knows their sufferings on earth, and it must be that they get
their passports right away, for there are none here. I had a chance to
become a newspaper man, to get into newspaper work, but my family
thought law more respectable, so here I am and may stay ten million
years yet. Oh, yes, it is understood that we must remain here until the
Master sees that we are sufficiently purified from earthly dross to
enter into a higher sphere, where the most of our earthly sins and
sorrows are forgotten. We are allowed to forget as fast as we have
earned forgiveness. But, as I said, there are no reporters here but you,
and it is understood that you are not to waste your time in writing out
a report. Nobody would believe it if you did. Gee! I wonder what the
editor of the paper up the street would say if you handed in your report
of what you have seen to-night?"

The young man gave a short hysterical laugh as he replied:

"He would say, 'Go to the cashier and get what is coming to you. We
publish nothing but facts.'"

Two or three of the ghosts who had heard this began to laugh derisively,
and one or two made remarks not altogether to the credit of the editor's
perspicacity, and there 

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