A STRIKING MANIFESTATION.
“I can't believe in sperituous knockings,” said Mrs.
Partington, solemnly, as some things were related to her
which had been seen, that appeared very mysterious.
“I can't believe about it; for I know, if Paul could come
back, he would revulge himself to me here, and
would n't make me run a mile only to get a few dry
knocks. Strange that the world should be so superstitional
as to believe sich a rapsody, or think a sperrit can
go knocking about like a boy in vexation. I can't
believe it, and I don't know 's I could if that teapot
there was to jump off the table right afore my eyes!” She
paused, and through the gloom of approaching darkness
could be seen the determined expression of her mouth.
A slight movement was heard upon the table, and the
little black teapot moved from its position, crawled
slowly up the wall, and then hung passively by the side
of the profile of the ancient corporal! The old lady
could not speak, but held up her hands in wild amazement,
while her snuff-box fell from her nerveless grasp
and rolled along upon the sanded floor. She left the
room to procure a light, and, as soon as she had gone,
the teapot was lowered by the invisible hand to its
original station, and Ike stepped out from beneath the
table, stowing a long string away in his pocket, and
grinning prodigiously.
