Читать книгу The Missing Link in Modern Spiritualism - A. Leah Underhill - Страница 24

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My mother’s only brother, John, was once kicked on the head by a favorite horse, which the blacksmith did not dare to shoe, and which his young master once rashly attempted to handle for the purpose. Uncle John was carried into the hotel unconscious, where he lay all night in that condition. About twelve o’clock that night his sister, Aunt Elizabeth (Mrs. Higgins), at home, about thirty miles distant, both heard and saw him walk across her room, groaning in pain. As he did not answer when she spoke to him, she supposed he had not heard her, and she went into her grandfather’s room; who, speaking first before she could do so, said, “What’s the matter with John? He has walked past my door several times, holding his hand to his head, and looked into my room; but when I spoke, he went away without answering me.”

The next morning word came that he was lying, dangerously injured, at the hotel. His father went immediately to him, but found him unconscious and unable to speak. He eventually recovered, and declared that he had been at home with the family during the night of his injury.

His grandfather, John C. Smith, my great-grandfather, English by birth, was the one who saved me when lost in the woods. (See the curious story related on a future page.) I think he was the very noblest and grandest man I have ever known. He was of unusual stature and strength, of the sweetest temper and character, as well as of superior intellect.