Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 257, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 October 1911 — THE TALKING TABLE. [ARTICLE]

THE TALKING TABLE.

why,.but probably, it was because she JETS?** intovT'ifi^rory ugly men. \ Nobody knew anything about Muaorm's antecedents, where she came from or what her real name was. She w«u a fortune teller. She was probably between twenty-five and thirty, with a wealth of golden hair; her eyes were large, brilliant and deep bine, and her month a poet’s dream of loveliness. Her voice and manners were charming, and as the people of our town are very superstitious she soon worked np a splendid business. Aiitard h&d met her on a steamer which brought him hack to France after a very disastrous tour in South America. He was a comedian, but possessing no talent he had never been successful and while abroad he had been forced to exist ever since the company was left stranded in Rio de Janeiro, on his talent as a ventriloquist, which was marvelous. Since his return home he hounded the pretty fortune teller’s seances, and as Musora had repeatedly warned him to stay away, he had to resort to strategy in order to be near his beloved, whose heart he was determined to conquer at any cost, as life# was not worth living without her. - - One evening he was present at one of the beautiful sorceress’ seances disguised as an old lady, and hidden away in the lasj; row of seats. After a few preliminary feats of chiromancy and fortune telling from cards, during which aft old colonel had caused considerable, trouble by his skepticism, the principal number of the program—the famous dancing table—was announced. The room was darkened. Musora sat down at a small table and placed her hands flat on top of it. There were a few moments of breathless suspense, then the table began to rock and sway in a strange manner, denoting the unmistakable presence of spirits. Musora asked the skeptic colonel to kindly address any question he wanted to the spirits, and he did so with the utmost politeness: “Spirit, who are you? Instead of the reply that was expected in the usual knocking language to which all spirits hitherto known have been wont to answer, a voice coming from one end, of the legs of the table replied: “Moliere.’' The audience was still dumfounded when another voice that first seemed to come from far away but gradually drew closer interrupted: “He Is not telling the truth; It is not Moliere, it is Regnard." The colonel looked at Musora, who vas quite pale as she replied: "There j must he two spirits. It very often | happens when the audience Is sympathetic.”

Her face remained calm, hut she was very much perturbed at the phenomenon of -the talking table, which had never been heard of before, neither at her seances nor anywhere else In the world. The colonel, who was now greatly impressed, asked in his most solemn voice: “Whom of the two great and illustrious spirits may I be permitted to address?” “None of them,” came the answer. “You will please address me" “And who are you?’’ “Beaumarchais.” It seemed then as if the three-leg-ged talde was now Inhabited by three great spirits, one in each leg. “Sir, this is indeed an unexpected honor,” the colonel stammered. ’’That is about enough,” came a fourth voice, "perhaps someone else may get a chance now.” There came a noise as if a number of people were quarreling, not only in the room, but on the stairs end even in the street The audience began to get uneasy and restless. "One voice at a time —This Napoleon is unbearable —now do not push so, Beethoven—l beg your pardon, 1 am Frederic Lemaltre —and I am Troppenauner—Did you ever see such people?—Please behave like Frenchmen, I am Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans —And I am George Sand— Musset, will you please be quiet—Elias Howe Gutenberg Robespierre Please wait until your turn comes—l am smothering." r

By this time the audience was panicstricken. Big dogs were heard barking, cats were mewing, and the piano in the corner was playing “Ach du lieber, Augustin," though no one touched it and not a key was moving. Women were fainting and the colonel had fled, leaving the door wide open behind him, while from the hall was heard a chorus of spirit voices:

“You are right, my dear William the Conqueror, these people are very rude —Why. are you here, too. William Tell —After you, Mahommet —This way, please, George Washington." Everyone had fled now and In the room were only Mnssora, the table and the old lady, all apparently paralysed. *T am ruined," sighed the morcereas, “Nobody will come here any more. Oh, what has happened? What has happened?" “Nothing very serious,” replied the old lady in AH bard’s voice. “You know how dearly I love you, and I only wantad to show you that ventriloquism Is rn art.” Now the two are married. She calls herself Mm. Alibard, and Is making a fortune with her new spiritualistic phenomenon—the talking table.