“I do not belong, but I may come to the party, may I not?
“I am content to wait until it will be only a pleasure to hold converse and when we can relax to a real confab.
“They are good stories, if I do say it — but they cannot believe in a leopard changing his spots. Out upon that spot!
“An amazing thing that the stolid English are more awake spiritually than Americans, zvho have not yet been touched vitally. Some day they will awake and arise — and I hope then I can take part in the procession.
“My greetings and all aid possible for the year to come.”
Several weeks later he said:
“This is the first opportunity I have had to hold ‘mind’ with you.
“Interesting expression that, zvhen one realizes hozu true it is that mind is the only real point of contact, although when on your plane we speak only of the physical nearness of others.
“Is it true that the hour is to be re-established? If that is the case, zue ought to turn out something zvorth while.”
On being told that the poem, “Sleeping,” which he had given us, was to be read to the Poetry Society, it seemed to appeal to his sense of humor, for he said:
“If I was not to all appearances dead, that would be my death. I shall have a fearful attack of stage-fright. I do hope they won’t call ‘Author!’
“I like this house. It is so restful and harmonious. It is a smiling island of loveliness in a black sea of pitch. I shall stretch here at ease tonight and rest and live happily.”
A. Houghton Pratt.
Over There
O. Henry’s Ghost Answers the Questions of a Newspaper Man Regarding “Over There”
So he desires to know how we folks live? Queer! the idea humanity hugs to its breast of how different life must of necessity be over here.
Tell him that at present it is New York at its worst, on a day of celebration, — with streets crowded, people pushing in all directions, friends meeting, exchanging greetings and passing on. To us life is the same, with the exception that now time is no longer a factor.
Our emotions are the same — until we learn the wisdom of eliminating all unworthy ones.
Our desires the same — only now they are satisfied almost immediately. We desire to eat and we have food. All is the same, only of finer material, not so dense.
It is as if we were in airships above you — seeing all, comprehending all, and yet unable to make you hear. To the few are given ears attuned to hear and eyes which behold, but humanity as a whole is blind.
If you could by any method make the world realize that to us here each and every THOUGHT affects us more poignantly than all the sentences uttered and that we are uplifted and made joyous by each thought of love sent out, no matter to whom, all hate would vanish from the earth.
Clothing? Just the same as ever, only we are glad to discard the old garments for new ones more beautiful, after we have been here for a while, and when that desire comes, the material is at hand with which to create new garments. Verily, over here thoughts become things quickly.
There are those here who do not aspire for newer or better things, and so they remain in their same condition.
Aspiration is the force here which pushes you on to better and greater achievements Houses? Certainly we have them; each one to his liking, for he builds it as he desires, with the aid of others; all lend helping hands over here, and life becomes a proper mixture of work, play and study.
Yes, there are places where hate, envy and all the evils still hold sway, and if those are the things which you enjoy, you dwell in that locality.
Whatever you in your soul desire you receive. Ask and it is given you; seek higher and you find; and it is truly to be said: “As a man thinketh so he receives and is.”
Naturally, people of the world are going to say “O. H. cannot write from above — if what he says is true, he would be below.” Having spent several years in Hell — on earth — after I arrived in this country I was mighty glad to change my environment when I discovered where I had been dwelling, — and that there was no need of remaining, unless I wished, — so I gave notice to the landlord I was moving at once.
The earth is a pretty poor place when you make a hell out of it, and it might be a heaven if we would only have faith, love and aspire.
The world is on a precipice and New York is tottering on the edge! Will you wake up and save yourselves or will you once more be swept away by the flood?
Foreword
“I wish to tell the world what is theirs for the asking.
To try and give them a new viewpoint — in place of their erroneous ideas.
Before, I wrote what the Self saw only — now it is what I know”
My Tussle With The Devil
It was the hour when souls simply cling to their bodies by the merest thread — when I met His Satanic Majesty.
He is well named, for he is majestic in every sense of the word — majestic of mien — majestic of gesture, of expression, and a god to look upon.
He is a deceptive person, for one meeting him casually would think he was one of the great and good men of the day — abroad on errands of mercy and with kindness in his heart for all humanity. So carefully does he conceal his identity that he resembles most of mankind — who are one person to themselves and quite another to the world of men.
We met. He knew me, but I had not yet had the pleasure of knowing this majestic lord — or thought I had not — and so was flattered when he accosted me and made me welcome.
“I was told you were coming, and so came to meet you,” he said, with a smile of geniality. “We hoped to have greeted you earlier.”
“Just a minute,” I said. “Who are you? Who told you I was coming?”
Making a sweeping gesture, and ignoring my questions, he continued:
“Our land is fair — as you see — but there are many wonders which I desire to show you. Wonders which are unheard of — not even dreamt of — and which will make you desire to remain among us, I feel confident.”
With this, my arm was taken in friendly fashion, and we proceeded up an avenue lined with trees perfect in form and foliage — passed handsome houses, with playing fountains, flowers, and birds in abundance.
With a magnificent gesture he swept all this out of the way. “The homes of our servants. We enter now the domains of those who rule and where we hope you will abide.”
The turn of the street brought us to an estate situated on the crest of a magnificent mountain. Winding roads of dazzling whiteness and smoothness led through a garden of flowers and wonderful trees. Running streams made music, and the song of birds — with brilliant plumage.
With no word spoken — but many implied by gesture and nod — we reached at last the mansion. Transparent — the