Dr. Funk borrowed the coin from Professor West's collection, as a lighter
colored one he already had was of doubtful authenticity. Both coins were sent to
the government expert in Philadelphia and the lighter one was declared to be the
genuine one. By the spirits it is now declared, however, that a mistake was made
and that the darker one belonging to Professor West has the greater value.
"I found both the light and the dark one in the drawer," said Dr. Funk, "and
remembered distinctly that it was the darker of the two which I had borrowed
from Professor West. I went to the next séance, and when Rakestraw's spirit
arrived I asked him to find out which one was to be returned. After a brief
interval his voice came to me.
"'Return the dark one, of course,' he said. 'That is the genuine coin and is
the one you borrowed from Dr. Beecher's friend.'
"While I do not wish to be classed as a believer in Spiritualism, I certainly
am open to conviction after what has come under my personal observation," Dr.
Funk concluded. "I am confident that no fraud was practiced on me at the séance
at which I was told about the old coin. The medium is an elderly woman living in
Brooklyn, who never appears in public, and the only persons present were members
of her family and known to me. But none of them knew any more about the coin being in my
safe than I did."
MARYLAND GHOSTS
(Baltimore American, May, 1886)
For forty years the Rev. Dr. B. has been the rector of a prominent parish on
the Eastern Shore. He had, when the scenes recorded below happened twenty-two
years ago, a mission charge sixteen miles distant from the town in which he
resided, and he was therefore constantly traveling between these two places.
About six miles distant was the country residence of Judge S., a well-known and
venerable parishioner of the worthy doctor. The sod had been turned above this
gentleman's grave only about six weeks, when Dr. B. chanced to be returning from
his mission charge in company with a friend. It was broad daylight, just about
sunset, and not far from Judge S.'s gate, when a carriage, drawn by a white
horse, passed them rapidly from behind and was soon out of sight.
"That fellow must be in a hurry to reach C.," remarked the doctor.
"Did you notice anything peculiar about that vehicle?" inquired his
companion.
"Only that it moves very quietly. I heard no sound as it went by."
"Nor did I," said his friend. "Neither rattling of wheels nor noise of hoofs.
It is certainly strange."
The matter, however, was soon forgotten in other conversation, and they had
traveled perhaps a mile, when suddenly, the same horse and carriage passed them
as before. Nothing was discernible of the driver except his feet, the carriage
curtains hiding his body. There was no cross road by which a vehicle in front
could possibly have got behind without making a circuit of many miles and
consuming several hours. Yet there was not the shadow of a doubt as to the
identity of the vehicle, and the two gentlemen gazed at each other in blank
amazement, and with a certain defined sense of awe which precluded any
discussion of the matter, particularly as the horse was to all appearances the
well-known white habitually driven by the deceased Judge. A half mile brought
them in sight of Judge S.'s gate, when for the third time the ghostly team
dashed by in the same dreadful mysterious silence. This time it turned in full
view into the gate. Without a word of comment the doctor quickened his horse's
speed, and reached the gate only a few yards behind the silent driver. Both
gentlemen peered eagerly up the long, open lane leading to the house; but
neither carriage nor wheel-track was visible, though it was still clear
daylight, and there was no outlet from the lane, nor could any vehicle in the
time occupied accomplish half the distance. The peculiar features of this
strange incident are that it was equally and simultaneously evident to two
witnesses, both entirely unprepared for any such manifestation, and differing
widely in temperament, habits of life, mental capacity and educational
attainments, and by mere accident making this journey together, and that to this
day both of them—witnesses, be it noted, of unimpeachable credibility—attest it,
and fully corroborate each other, but without being able to suggest the
slightest explanation.
THE GHOST OF PEG ALLEY'S POINT
Peg Alley's Point is a long and narrow strip of wooded land, situated between
the main stream of Miles river and one of the navigable creeks which flow into
it. This little peninsula is about two miles long, from fifty to three hundred
yards in width and is bounded by deep water and is overgrown with pine and thick
underbrush. There is extant a tradition to the effect that many years ago a
party of Baltimore oystermen encamped on the point, among whom was a man named
Alley, who had abandoned his wife. The deserted woman followed up her husband,
and found him at the camp. After some conversation had passed between them, the
man induced her, upon some unknown pretext, to accompany him into a thicket. The
poor wife
never came out alive. Her husband cruelly murdered her with a club. The point of
land has ever since been known by Peg Alley's name, and her perturbed spirit has
been supposed to haunt the scene of her untimely taking off. About twelve years
ago a gang of rail-splitters were at work on the point, and one day the foreman
flatly refused to go back, declaring that queer things happened down there, and
that he had seen a ghost. Mr. Kennedy, his employer, laughed at him and
dismissed the matter from his mind. Some time after this Mr. Kennedy had
occasion to ride through the woods to look after some sheep, there being but one
road and the water on either side. As he approached the point his horse started
violently and refused to go on, regardless of whip or spur. Glancing about for
the cause of this unnatural fright, he saw a woman rise up from a log, a few
yards in advance, and stand by the roadside, looking at him. She was very poorly
clad in a faded calico dress, and wore a limp sun-bonnet, from beneath which her
thin, jet-black hair straggled down on her shoulders; her face was thin and
sallow and her eyes black and piercing. Knowing that she had no business there,
and occupied in controlling his horse, he called to her somewhat angrily to get
out of the way, as his animal was afraid of her. Slowly she turned and walked
into the thicket, uttering not a syllable and looking reproachfully at him as
she went. With much difficulty he forced his horse to the spot, hoping to find
out who the strange intruder might be, but the most careful search failed to
reveal the trace of any one, although there was no place of concealment and no
possible way of escape, for which, indeed, there was not sufficient time.
AN APPARITION AND DEATH
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