[Footnote A: McGinnis was a murderer recently hung for the brutal
killing of his mother-in-law. Particulars of the murder, execution and
autopsy were in all the local papers.]
(In an ordinary feminine hand.)
Put a piece of paper on a stand place a pencil on it and I will try to
make the scale for you at home there is a power that is growing on you
that will enable me to do this in a few times of trying I could write my
own hand this is my first time of coming here so that makes it harder
for me to get control
B
(This doggerel came in answer to a question whether the Spirits could
write poetry, and is in a hand not dissimilar to the preceding
communication, although the signatures differ.)
When the clear bright sun was shining
Then they took my cherished form
And they bore it to the church yard
To consign it to the worm
Well no matter that was only
The clay dress your loved one wore
God had robed her for an angel
She had need of this no more
Though the tears fell fast and faster
Yet you would not call me back
Nay be glad her feet no longer
Tread life's rough and thorny track
Yes be glad the father took her
Took her whilst her heart was pure
Oh be glad he did not leave her
All life's trials to endure