My Library

“T�� circumstances were, briefly, these: “I attended, as before observed, the fête sociale, at the house of my friend Mr. Carr—Leonard Carr. The party was given in honor of a young literary friend of the family, who had recently gained great renown as a writer of fiction. To this young man I was introduced just before we all sat down to the festive board to partake of the many good things so bounteously set before us. “After the repast was concluded we all adjourned to the parlor and entered into conversation. Topic after topic had been discussed, and at length the ‘Turning tables,’ then so rife in all parts of the world, and Paris especially, became the theme of observation and criticism. “ ‘Bah!’ said Mrs. Carr, ‘I deem the whole thing silly, besides being one of the most contemptible humbugs ever ran after by a pack of silly people —I was going to say—fools: I am convinced there is really nothing in it, and that all this stuff about moving furniture, and ghosts, and other spectral gentry, is but the product of heated