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SHE CAPTURED THE SPOOK

Dreadful Flesh and Blook Qualities of a Spirit Snared by Mrs. Peattie

An Invitation Accepted With Unexpected Alacrity—A Dramatic Exposure of a Spiritualistic Hoax—The "Spirit" Faints.

For several weeks past a peculiar woman has been interesting some men and women in this city by the materializations of the dead.

From behind the cabinet where she sat have appeared the white-robed forms of
dead babies, at the sight of which some aching motherly hearts have been comforted. The old German mother of a well-known dealer in old books came—so he says—and called him by back in the fatherland. A number of young lawyers became intensity interested. Some of them were almost convinced. A great many people, both men and women, were honestly curious.

Last night Dr. Horace P. Holmes invited a number of persons to his rooms for the purpose of witnessing those materializations. He put up two dark curtains across the corner of the room and placed a blue chair within.

The company gathered. There were about twenty-four present. Among those
whom curiosity brought were Dr. and Mrs. Holmes. Mr. and Mrs. Cable, Mr. Charles Eigutter, Mr. John l. Rodick, Mr. Henry Shonfeld, Dr. Own, Mr. and Mrs. Robert
Peattie.

Mrs. Fritz, the medium, was a pleasant-faced woman, about 40 years of age. She
has lived for twenty years in Madison, Neb. She is a widow and said that she
had come to Omaha to make a better living than she could make in her own town.
She has been conscious of her power as a medium, so she says, since she was 15 years of age.

It is not necessary to use the double negative as Mrs. Fritz uses it, nor to spell
"ought' with an r, after her manner of pronouncing the word. Nor is one called
upon to spell "sit' with an e. Substantially, Mrs. Fritz said:

"The first time I was ever took with a trance was at a Methodist meetin'. I said to ma, 'I fee so queer—like I wus goin' to faint.' Then they begun to sing 'Come to Jesus.' An' I [wiut?] right off., I never knowed anything fur twenty-four hours. Since that time I've been subjek to trances right along. They take me rite in my home-jus' while I'm setting' still. I ain't had these materializations very long. I ain't sure I ken do anything here tonight. It's hard work producin' materializations."

Mrs. Fritz was interrupted here with the question:

"If you are unconscious from the first to the last of your trances, how is it that you
are able to make sufficient effort of the will to produce tose materializations? If
it is such hard work how can you remain unconscious?"

Mrs. Fritz shook her head mysteriously, "I can't explain it," she said. "It's some
power outside of me, it makes me very happy. I ain't no more afraid of death!"
Mrs. Fritz really couldn't say how far she was from being afraid of death.

At last the company being all arrived, and the yellow glow having died out of the sky and given place to the darkness which spirits love, the shades were drawn, the mystic circle formed, gentlemen and indies alternating as much as possible, considering that the number of men was in excess, and the electric lights were turned off. One faint glow from a kerosene burner gave blurred light—just enough to see the manifestations by. There was one young woman with a white waist who sat at the end of the circle, a few inches from the cabinet. As Mrs. Fritz seemed anxious to mingle the men and women as much as possible, one of the ladies present was interested to observe that she made no suggestion that this young woman change her seat. So the lady suggested that the young woman with the white waist move—which she did, just one seat. The man with her was perhaps her husband. At any rate, he was her escort.

Mrs. Fritz went behind her curtains. The company joined hands and sang-very
much out of time. It sang "Shall We Gather at the River." "The Sweet Bye and Bye," and "Nearer, My God, to Thee," Nobody seemed to know these songs very
well, and the words gave out very often. But the tune went mercilessly on.

After a time the signing of Mrs, Fritz ceased.

Mr. Shonfeld confided to the company that the name of her control was "Hennery," by which it is supposed that "Henry" was meant.

There was a pause. Chills went down the backbones of some of the people.

"Are you there 'Henery?" said Mr. Shonfeid. "Henry," in a voice singularly like that of Mrs. Fritz, said he was, and that there were many of the Friends with him. They were anxious to appear. But it was all so new—so new.

The medium was, he said, in a dead trance. He invited the people to come and see her. The people examined her in the semi-darkness. Her body was rigid, her arms straight out like a person in convulsions, and there was no perceptible beating
of the pulse.

More singing, more waiting, more objurations to "Hennery." More assurances on the part of "Hennery" that he was doing the best he could.

At length with much apparent reluctance a white shape with no apparent features appeared before the curtains. The hands clasped together trembled a little.

"Who is that?" asked the young woman in the white waist. There was a whispered reply. The young woman in the white waist heard it, and told the rest what it was. After much more bad singing a tiny white shape, a mere white streak about as long as a gentleman's pocket handkerchief, appeared before the curtain.

This, it appeared, was "Gretchen"-- and her fond relative,-- the young woman in the white waste--conversed with her in German.

Upon inquiry it was learned that "Gretchen" was 4 years old, when she died. As her spirit showed her last night, she would have been entitled to enter the dino museum as the smallest Lillliputian since Zarate died.

Other spirits appeared. Then "Hennery" said that a spirit wanted to know if her daughter was present.

"I think I must be that daughter," said Mrs. Peattie, "Is that my mother, 'Hennery.'" It seemed disrepestful to call him simply Henry.

"She says she is your mother," said "Hennery." It took Mrs. Peattie's mother a long time to overcome her shyness and appear. At Mr. Shonfield's suggestion Mrs. Peattie appealed to her mother. She said:

"Mother, mother, come, appear to me."

There was some more talking. Mrs. Peattie still begged for her maternal relative. All sang the same tunes in different keys. It had the desired effect. Mrs. Peattie's mother came out--tall, white, and headless. A whisper came from her; she said:

"Come to me dear!"

Mrs. Peattie came in one leap across the room, and clasped in her arms the portly form of the medium, who, with an unearthly shriek sank in her chair.

"You've killed the medium," cried the young woman in the white waist, but she cried this only after she had received something white from the frantic hands of the medium and hidden it about herself. Meanwhile Mrs. Peattie pulled the black dress skirt down over the white petticoat of the medium--for fear her modesty would suffer. The medium protested that the lights were not to be turned on. The young woman in the white waist and her escort clamorously protested that the lights were not to be turned on.

The medium did not die.

Mrs. Peattie's mother is eating three hearty meals a day at her home a mile south of the World's fair.

Thus ended the first lesson.