“Old Moore.”

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXX, Issue XV, 11 April 1903, Page 986

“Old Moore.”

In “M.A.P.,” “Old Moore” has been

giving some scraps of autobiography. This quaint old character led a very chequered career. He knocked round California among the cowboys, and saw life in its roughest form when a very young man. Subsequently he became an actor. Writing about himself at this time he says: —“Although this particular period of my life was eminently practical and material, my mind was never off the subject of second-sight, and whenever an opportunity arose for discussing it I never failed to avail myself of it. Among the, to me, most interesting persons I met in California were spiritualists, and students generally of the occult. This bore abundant fruit in the future. I always felt convinced that I possessed the gift of second-sight, and, as I have already intimated, this became demonstrably plain to me at a later period. Although it is not given to me to be always accurate in my divinations, I think I may lay claim, on the strength of my almanack, that I have amply demonstrated that I am possessed of the gift that I lay claim to. Well, a paternal summons put an end to my eventful career in California, and I returned to the Old Country, where I soon after conceived the idea of getting the billet of writing and publishing ‘Old Moore’s Almanack.’ This duly became an accomplished thing, and since then has, of course, been considerably developed. At the present time it has a circulation of 1,250,000 copies. It may interest readers to know that many of my inspirations occur to me in the still hours of the night—that period during which the mind is peculiarly susceptible to occult influence. In this connection I may tell of a curious thing that happened to me about eighteen years ago. I awoke suddenly! one morning, to hear a voice say distinctly, ‘Hammond will win the Derby.’ I looked about the room, but could see nobody. Later in the day I met a friend of mine who knew more about racing matters than I did, and told him what had occurred to me that morning. He pooh-poohed the idea, remarking, ‘Why, my dear fellow, the list of entries is not published yet.’ As a matter of fact it was about Christmas time. However, I adhered to my belief in the message I had received, and anxiously awaited developments. In due course the entries were issued to the public, and my friend, having run his finger down the list, triumphantly exclaimed, ‘There you are. there is no sueh horse among them!’ We then ran down the list of owners, and sure enough the name of Hammond was there, and his horse. St Gatien, was entered for the race. It was now my turn to be triumphant, and I declared emphatically that St Gatien would win the coming race. My friend turned from his sceptical mood to one of halting doubt, and eventually he was bound to confess, he said, that there “might be something in it.’ The consequence was, I backed my fancy for all I was worth, and induced as many of my friends to do likewise as I could. Many of them took the hint, and backed the horse

heavily, and thousands of pounds were at stake. Well, on the day of tire race I went down to Epsom and got into conversation with a gipsy, who volunteered the information that a horse named Harvester would win. Strange to say the race resulted in a dead heat between these two horses—St Gatien and Harvester. It was whispered that St Gatien was reaLy the winner. In my mind, however, this quite justified my confidence in the mysterious message of which I was the recipient. The result of the race was that the stakes were divided.”