LAUGHING EYES: MATCHMAKER

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 19, 4 November 1908, Page 51

LAUGHING EYES: MATCHMAKER

ROSALIE GRANGE READS |j y

WILL IRWIN

I’M for honest mediumship,” said Rosalie Le Grange, trance, test, i business, clairvoyant and inspirational medium. . "Money you get : •' 'over and above legitimate fees ain’t Tight or proper,- and it’s always bitter money before you're through with it. Lie? Of course. The business is pretty near all lie, if you want to be particular about it. But where’s the harm? I always do ’em good and send ’em away happy. Everybody practises deception in this world of sin, but everybody has to draw the line somewhere. I draw it on grafting. Ever, since I started telling fortunes by the cards, up on Cottage Grove Avenue, in Chicago, that’s been my rule. I reconciles families, I reunites fond hearts; and, more’n all that, . I heartens ’em up. Suppose I could tell ’em what was eOming to ’em in the future, and did—how would they feel about it? Would most of,’em want to go on living? Course not. But I tell ■'em everything's coming out all right in the end, and they go away cheerful and chirked up to stand their troubles. I declare, this business may be a fake, Which you and me knows it is nine firms out of ten, but if we stick to honest fees for honest'readings’, wo’7d° more good than all the'priests arid rabbis and preachers ! It’s, only when mediums get grafting that tfre’y ought to'be Exposed. “Why, tnere was a time—have another Cup. One lump? I feel jest like telling you about it. Slake yourself comfortable, dear. Seems when I get started I just have to talk or -I’ll bust. And tkey’s few ean talk straight to about this business. Not even professionals, with the sight of exposing that’s going On.

“I must say that times was never so good for me as that winter before I was exposed in Brookline. I’d rented Mrs. Hartman's house at Brookline ' for the winter—she’d got a, hall in Philadelphia. You know the town. Rich as all get-out, and a right, nice, quiet place to live in. Mrs. Hartman was fixed fine. She had one of them old-.time houses, with plain, red, spindly, shiny furniture she’d picked up all over. and. some old portraits .that passed for her ancestors. It wasn’t exactly comfortable—for my part, I like things fancier and fluffier.. A few tidies make a place look so much more homelike! But Boston people admire that kind of fixings, and think they’re swell. Mrs. Hartman hail worked that all out. She advised me Hot to change it, and, though I could ’a’ yelled sometimes, it Was that bare, I took her advice. I seen in time she was tight. - “Her graft was fine, too. This was the way we worked it: “Professor Beach. vvas running ‘The Standard Bedfei’ in'those days, and he had his office in Brookline, Kept a library of psychic and uplifting literature, too; kind of seeohd-hand book store! AU; of us advertised in ‘The Standard Bearer’ —Mr,s. Mary Belle Martin, in Cambridge, and Ma'tie Moliiieanx, on Columbus Avenue, and Sears, the Slate-Writer—-the whole lot in our brotherhood—but wo didn’t publish no places of business. The advertisements said: ‘For address and appointments for sittings apply at this office.’ So when the sitter bit and came,. Professor. Beach—he was travelling as! John P. Quinn then—would be pottering around the old second-hand book store. One way or another he’d get ’em looking through the lajoks aiid ~ dropping facts. Sometimes he could get letters <WI things out of their pockets, but he. hardly ovei - had to do that. He’s the most entertaining talker in the busiBess, he is. Only safe way to beat Pro-

fessor Beach’s game when’s lie's fishing is to wear a ball and chain on your face. By the time they'd gassed a quarter of an hour he'd have the whole story. Then he’d recommend me, or Sears, or Matie Molineaux, and make an appointment for a. sitting. Of course, soon as the sitter’s back was turned he'd telephone out lull personal descriptions and names and spirits wanted and anything else he’d picked up. With that on new sitters and the Blue Book on old ones, any fool could be a medium. Why, I had hard work keeping the Society for the Investigation of Spirit Phenomena from investigating me, I got that famous! “I was playing the refined lady, which is the way I like to practice when 1 can. Emmie Rose was my student in those days—l made her a good clairvoyant in one year—and then she went out and done me dirt—but that come in later. She'd meet ’em at the door, dressed like a maid, and collect their two dollars and ask 'em to wait five minutes. Then she’d pull down the shades in my front parlour, and I’d set at the table ami throw a shawl over my shoulders and put my hands over my eyes—and when they come in they’d find me under control and talking in my Laughing-Eyes voice. When the hour was up Emmie Rose 'would come and take them away, and I’d still be sitting, with my hands on my eyes, like I was under control. For the line of customers I had in them days, that is a splendid scheme. It’s mysterious-like, and appeals to tony people. Besides, they have to just get up and go when the hour’s up—can't bother you stopping to ask questions about how it feels to be under control. Now, washerwomen and butchers and such would rather see you throw fits going into control and have conniptions coming out. It makes 'em think they get more for their money. “Well, along during a cold spell in February, Professor Beach called me up. 'Appointment for ten o’clock to-morrow,’ says he, ‘and it looks good, but a lot of it is blind. Young couple. Ain’t engaged yet—least, she wears no ring—but .you can see they're dead gone on each other,’ says he. ‘She’s a plump brunette, about five-three, and I’d like to give her a sitting myself, for she’s fine,’ says he. Professor Beach was always joking. He reeled off the full personal description of 'em both. ‘His name’s James P. Winton,’ says he. ‘Got it out of his card-case. He’s an electrical engineer. Only one line on her, and that's a queer one.’ Then Professor Beach told how them two young people had been going over the old books, whispering in corners the way lovers do, and the girl had turned a page careless-like, and jumped all of a sudden, and said: “‘Well, that’s a sign!’ “Of course, the professor slipped up behind her, and got a look to see what made her act that way. Their eyes were glued on a picture in a book called ‘Prominent Leaders of the Women Movement.’ He said they studied it a long time, and she said: “‘l’ve got to, dear!’ "And he said: "‘Hang the New England conscience!’ “Professor Beach said ho couldn’t catch the next, but it sounded like a quarrel, and when they walked out she had her face turned away from him, and he was holding out his hands like he was begging for her to do something. “Of course, Professor Beach took note of that picture, and he hunted it up the first thing. It was Mis Caroline Seaman Bruee. You remember — leader in the woman suffrage cause. She'd passed

out five years or so before. The professor remembered it because he was doing materialising in Boston while the newspapers were full of her death, and he used to have her spook give lectures to women from inside the cabinet. He read through the piece about Caroline Seaman Bruee in that book, and he found only one thing which sounded like good dope to him. It said that her niece, little Mies Lavinia Bruce, whose recitations had charmed so many woman suffrage

meetings, was expected to carry on the work after Caroline was gone. Said she was a consecrated child, like some old heathen or other consecrated his son to fight the Romans. “ ‘May be a lead there,’ said Professor Beach; ‘but, if I was you. I’d go slow and cautious with it. ’Tain’t no dead sure thing that this girl is Miss Lavinia Bruee, but you’re safe in getting a Laviijia in her aura some place.’

" ‘Consecrated to the cause,’ says I. And I get a notion into my head that just seemed to fill it.

“It's funny how you get interested in some sitters. Now, love and affection always was my specialty. When they come about mines and lost wills, sometimes they make me.so tired I can hardly keep my LaughingrEyes voice going for. t an hour;, and a man 'with business.,, troubles is generally fierce. But I’ll go out of my way any time to mix into a .■ love trouble, even , when I ain’t got no i, business with it. I’m never as happy as when I'm smoothing the way for two loving young hearts. And this thing got me real curious, especially when the professor told me what a pretty little thing she was. I just galloped downstairs to tell Emmie Rose; and, while we was talking it over, as excited as two fool women can get—and you know how excited that is—Professor Beach rung up on the telephone again. Says the professor :

“ ‘Found another lead! He left a copy of the “Boston Globe” on the counter, and there’s a clipping cut out of it. I just compared it with a whole copy, and found the piece that was ent out, ami it certainly does look like this was Lavinia Bruee.’ Ami he told me where the piece was to be found. 1 rushed down to get my papers—l’d been cutting out obituary notices from ’em that very blessed morning. Emmie Rose and me — we jumped for that piece. It was a notice of a rally of the Woman Suffrage League, coming off the very next Friday, and it said that Miss Lavinia Bruee, who’d done such good work for the cause in college, was going to give the main talk.

“I flew to the ’phone and called up the secretary of the Woman Suffrage League, J put on my lady voice.

“ ‘Hello,’ says I. ‘This is Mrs. Lintpump, of Brookline. If it’s not impertinent,’ says I, taking good care of my grammar, 'can you tell me about Miss Bruce, Who’s going to speak next Friday? That can’t be the little niece of Caroline Seaman Bruce?—-you’ll pardon my asking; I’ve been abroad so much I am out of touch with such matters,’ says I; ‘out little Lavinia was like a daughter to me.’

“ ‘Oh, yes, indeed, says the secretary over the telephone. “‘Why, the dear child! T thought she would be married by this time,’ says I.

“ ‘No danger of that, I think,’ says she, kipd of icy. .‘‘Then I made a Jbreak. “‘Why?’ says I, right out just like that. It alipped out, 1 was that excited

and curious. And, just is it always goes, ’twawn’t ho much what ( said as the wav 1 said it. * 'Pardon me, but arc you telephoning from a newspaper?’ says the secretary. 'Madame! The idea!’ says I, just the way any lady would, ami hung up the telephone. When they think you’re from the papers there’s no use going any further with cm. But I’d got about what 1 wanted, anyhow. Enough to go ahead, if 1 used my brains and a little fishing. “Next morning at breakfast Emmie Rose said to me: “ ‘You re all chirked up and fixed up like you was waiting for a beau. Your eyes are bright and you’ve put on your best lace waist.’ And 1 said: “ ‘I wouldn't talk if 1 was you, Emmie Rose. You've got on a fresh apron, though it’s Thursday, and you generally never change until Friday.’ It was true about both of us.

"1 was waiting in the front parlour a quarter of an hour before the appointment. If they hadn’t come I'd have been real put out. But the bell rang just at ten, and Emmie Rose came in, all excited.

" ‘She’s as pretty as a new penny,’ says Emmie, ‘and he’s blond and tall and he’s

got rent nice eyes. I peeked back through the ciartatHH after they set down. lie was holding her hand and just eating her up witli his eyes, and she was looking straight ahead, like she was really seeing spirits. 1 bet she believes, but I • Can «ee he’s sceptical.’ “‘Well, you send ’em in quick!' says I. “Of course. 1 was in tranee when they come in, using lauigiiing-Eyes for control. I’ve got long eyelashes, though I ilo say it, and they’re one of the best points about my mediumship. For, when t open my eyes —this way—just far enough to see shadows of people like them pictures of people cut out of black paper, you can scarcely tell it. As they pome in, I chanced one peep. I couldn’t make her out plain, but 1 took to her. •And when J.a ugh ing - Fyes says, ‘Good morning!' and she answered, it was the nicest, softest little voice, with a kind of a cry in it. Her doing platform Bpcaking on woman suffrage! That yoice hadn't no business talking any but gossip and baby talk! ’’Well, they set. And I started in on him. Of course, I. was pretty sure of Ids name and business, and 1 let that out gradual the first thing. I could tell by jthe rustle of her skirt —always notice when they change position or when they set awful still; it means something—that Professor Veach got it correct out Of the card-case. Then I fished with a Frank, and found he had an Uncle Frank. That seemed to convince him, because 1 heard him catch his breath. Then I got her bare left hand—nearest the heart —to gather her magnetism, and felt particular the ring finger. The professor was light again. There was nothing on it, _t,nd I worked right up toward the point. ’There’s something funny between you two young people,’ 1 says. ‘There’s a bond like iron and yet there's a wall. I seem to see you drawed together, and just when you come very close it's as if somebody held a veil between you so you couldn’t touch each other. And—it ain’t a spirit draws that veil?' says I—Laughing-Eyes, you. understand. ‘ And they both stopped moving, and it was so still you could ’a' cut it with a knife. I was dying to look through my eyelashes. And then, says LaughingEves:

“‘Ain’t there W spirit of an old lady with grey hair and a full figure, a spirit that had something to do with a lot of talking from the platform? It seems to me she belongs to you, lady. And when sir* comes f get a peculiar influence, like there was crowds of people before her, and all women. Seems like there’s women everywhere in her aura. I sense a kind, stern nature, that would do for people and never caress 'em,’ and then I stopped.

"And you could hear her silk skirts go Vi lieu she leaned forward and said: ** ‘Yes-—ves!'

"He wasn't moving an inch. I might ’a' been in the room alone with her. And I said, knowing I bad it going: " ’That spirit is just struggling with me to get control of my medie ’ and here I made laiughing-Eyes chatter Indian, like I always do when I want her to seem mixed up. But Laughing-Eyes held the fort. “ ‘I get a “C." ’ says Laughing Eyes, ‘and then an “A,” and then—ain’t the name Caroline?’ ‘lt is,’ says the girl in a whisper. ‘And it seems like the last name was the same as yours,’ says I—leiugiiing ■ Eye-s. ‘There’s an influence from your father’s side ’ and right there I had to stop and plan for a second. Was her father in the spirit? I done some quirk thinking, and I seen he must be. For, if Caroline Seaman Bruce brought her up, her folks must ’a’ been passed out, and the family name being the same, Lavinia** father must have been brother to Caroline. No matter how carefully you plant a case, sometime- you never think of the best things until the sitter is right in front of you. bo Laughing-Fyes said: “ ‘She’s happy in spirit with a middleaged man, not very tali, who says that ha brings a parent’s influence to you and a brother's to her.’ Of course, he wouldn't likely have l>oen a very oM man when he died, ami his daughter being short, it wasn’t likelv he was tall. “Well, they set so still that I had to peek through my eyelashes. She was leaning forward, with her hands clasped, looking at me, and Mr. Winton was leaning leo-k. banking at her steady. I knew almost for certain that I was on the right path. So Laughing Eyes went rigid to the point: ‘‘faroline’s sorry about something. Carolina say* she made a great mistake

in the flesh and she's been influencing you to change—o-oh! Caroline wants me to go away. She wants any medie.’ And then I done the regular jerks for ehanging control and put on a platform voice like a woman suffrage leader must hare, aud I say*—-I was Caroline Seaman Bruce now—it was risky, but 1 tried it: “‘Dear Lavinia,' says I, ‘many things have been made clear jo me since I passed out. When I made you promise that you would never marry, but would devote yourself to the cause of woman, I was using my earth sense, not my spirit sense. The cause of woman will triumph, but there are other leaders more fitted. Have you not felt me trying to influence you? I know that you will best serve the cause as wife and mother,’ I says. ‘lf you feel called, follow the call, dear one.’ And then, for fear she'd ask embarrassing questions. I threw a conniption again, and had Laughing-Eyes come right back. “Mr. Winton was holding both her hands. “‘Caroline's gone!’ savs LaughingEyes. “Then I put my foot on the push-bell. That was the regular signal to Emmie Hose, out in the kitchen, that she was to come and break up the sitting. Miss Bruce wanted to hear more, but Emmie felt my’ head and wrists and said that they were cold, which meant the control was passing, aud would they please leave. “A minute afterward, when I was pulling myself together—l was just limp —Emmie come running in. “ ‘Tliey’re hugging each other in the parlour!’ says Emmie. AH of a sudden she clapped her hands over her mouth. “ ‘My,' she says, ‘l've got to go in there. I forgot to collect their two dollars!’

“ ‘Emily Maude Rose,’ says I, ‘if you disturb them young people now, two dollars or no two dollars, I’ll never speak to you again as long as I live!’ “I didn’t lose nothing by it; and I’ll say that Lavinia Bruce got no fool for a husband. It was about a week later that James P. Winton came into the ‘Standard Bearer' office alone. He didn't seem to have no business there; just wandered around and tasked about things in general. But when he went over and took down ‘Prominent Leaders of the Woman Movement,’ the'professor got an awful turn. Mr. Winton put it back on the shelf after a while, and when he wandered out he said: “ ‘You'd best look into that book before you sell it.’ Of course, the professor looked as soon as his back was turned. In front of the picture of Sirs. Bruce was a letter addressed to Laugh-ing-Eyes. “Inside was a cheque for fifty dollars, drawer! to the order of Laughing-Eyes, or Rosalie lx* Grange, and a slip of paper that said: ‘Much obliged!'”