INSIDE INFORMATION.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 17410, 12 December 1924, Page 12 (Supplement)

INSIDE INFORMATION.

(FSy H. TIIX.A! AN.I I cannot say that I knew Air -Joseph Brown very well. AVe often sat next to one another in the tram to town, ami there I heard many of the tiials and difficulties of the Brown household. He had been married three times and had had, in consequence, more than his share of troubles, all of which he remembered. He was a graphic and painstaking storeyteller. No detail escaped him. I remember it took three trips to tell of the diffirultv thev had in healing the finger of his eldest daughter’s 'ittle boy, who was unfortunate in getting Ins hand caught in a door. It is from this attention to detail that I am expecting great things some day. That is. however, for the future. One day my budding friendship was broken. ’ Brown was one of our morning jokes. He always lett it to the last minute to catch his car. so as soon as the motor-man saw him leave his gate, he would clang the bell and slowly start off. The man at the controller was an expert. He always ensured us a good run. yet never overdid it, so that Brown would lose heart. AVe all enjoyed it, and the tram men would never think of starting without him. As soon as T cam* lack from my holidays at Christmas I missed him from the seat where he invariably puffed bis first section. They told me about it. A new motor-man had forced him to run too far, and Brown s “JTJ '■ '

heart had given out. When they picked him up he was dead. I remember laughing when they told me. not that I felt any real pleasure. He was not in any way related to me, and f thought l had finished with him till T started to go round to Corriedales for seances. I must say that at first I had no faith in spiritualism, nor in the t orriedales. I objected to Mrs Corriedales badly-fitting teeth and to the kind of whiskers her husband wore. I hey were too aggressive looking. Still. J was interested, neve? having met a spirit, and. realising that man has got to eat a peck of prejudices before he dies. 1 prepared to swallow a little t here To my surprise the whole affair was well managed. There were no prayers, no hymns. We all sat round a round table. Of course, one can sit round a square table, but a round one has a more come-together aspect. The lights were lowered. Not so low as to hide Corriedale’s whiskers, but sufficient to soften their outline. Silence now, in the words of the poet, reigned. Of course. I don’t know of what the others were thinking, but my thoughts were busy over the problem of whether the printed tag on a bill I had received that day was put there by a zealous office boy or by the manager. It said: “This account is now very much overdue.’’ Of course, if it was the manager's ukaze, it would have to be paid, but if not, then it would be the grocer’s turn. ft was difficult. I was wishing I had the gift of clairvoyance when I w as startled by hearing, a voice say . ‘‘George, old fellow, how are you?” and I instantly recognised it as that of the man. now known to his solicitor as Joseph Brown, deceased. It was uncanny. I looked round the table. I could see every eye was turned on me. “Am J the only George present?” 1 asked, my voice wavering. Corriedale’s whiskers waggled twice as “You are” came out. I did not know that Brown knew my first name. Ho had never used it before, but I knew liis was Joseph, so I said friendly like : “Well, Joe. lio\\ are your” “So, so!” he replied * L suppose 1 will get used to it.” I could see I would have to use tact. I sniffed the air unobtrusively, but could detect no smell of brimstone; yet I was not satisfied with the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. I hen an inspiration came. “ What do you use for c igarette lighters there?” I asked. “ There are none.” “ Ah!” I said brightly, “ you light them against a hob then.” “ No ! no cigarettes,” Brown answered snappily. “ I am in Heaven.” Instantly I got interested. I looked at tbe others. Their eyes betrayed no excitement, but I grabbed my pen and notebook. “ Joe, old man.” I said, “ this is big. It is the first genuine message from Heaven that lias come through. A Half hour's interview with you will make my fortune. Just go ahead and tell me about it. Is that genuine about the harps and -er angels? Of course I suppose I should not monopolise your spirit,” 1 turned to Corriedale and added. (»o ahead,” he said- “ We arc* all interested. It is a very fair manifest a- j tion.” he went on with a cold, judi- | cia] tone that I found annoying. “ A

Mrs Jones last month, was better. Sh«i had more* aura, and could ring hells and things.” “Joe Brown will do me.” T told him. “ Now. Joe,” 1 said to the voice, tell us from the beginning.” “ Well,” said Brown, “at the start ! found things well managed. I remember chasing the tram and falling down. The next thing 1 knew* I was standing in a queue in front of a big gate, for all the world like the one at tlie castle that Dug Fairbanks had in “ Robin Hood.” I noticed as I got closer that those in front were calling out where they came from. I could not understand the lingo of some, but I heard a chap call “ Oshkosh, Midi..” and another “London, England.” and another, “ Auckland, The Earth,” so 1 said. “ Christchurch, Now* Zealand.” and passed through. An attendant gave me a haio with my registration number printed on. and a pass. On the pieee of cardboard was “ Now Zealand Section, train every Monday.’ ” “ If you will remember. I got translated that is the word we use here—on a Thursday, so I had to sit down and wait. There were a fair number about, but we did not got numerous till the motorists on Sunday started to come in. There was a good train full when wo pulled out on Monday morn- “ Both my first and my second w ives came to meet me. They looked well. 1 forgave Emily for lending my best overcoat to her brother, who burned a small hoi© in it. 1 could not forgive* her before, for next day she took a tin of benzine in by the stove to clean a pair of gloves.” I found the climate mild, the scenery good, and the people inclined to be sociable, but trouble—to, to—” Joe Brown s voice died away, and that is all L got. I don’t know what happened. There are in spiritualism things like static in wireless, at present unaccountable. Oorriedale explained it all to me. but I forget the technical terms. Since that night. I have met Shakespeare, Mrs Bui wink’s aunt, and the angel wife of Mr Gnffin. hut never again has Brown come. I havd asked the others, lint they appear to have no descriptive powers. They evade it. T asked \\ illiani Shakespeare if he could a tale unfold whose lightest word would shrivel up my blood, make my two eyes like stars start from their spheres. He said he did not know what I was talking about, which was not to be wondered at, seeing that it was four hundred years ago since he wrote it. No. the only person with reallv good descriptive powers is Brown, and I’m looking forward to every Sundav night just to finish my interview with him.