January 2nd. II. 15 P.m

Thought of small almanac with a picture of pink roses on it.... R. C. Despard.

[The percipient, Miss Campbell, wrote as follows. Her envelope was addressed to Miss Despard at Surbiton, but apparently not posted for the reason given in her final sentence].

15 Heathcote Street, W.C.

January 1st, 1896. 11.10 P.m

[Sketch of a capital S, the upper part sloping to the right and the lower to the left.] First I had inclination to let my pen wriggle, then saw large capital S, and heard sound of letter, though this was most probably imagination.

January 2nd. 11.30 P.m

Had a very vivid impression of your walking up to the chest of drawers in your room, opening the top drawer and touching those velvet and lace straps, as if you were meditating what you could think of, and looking in front of you at the little glass-fronted bookcase; then there was a small scrimmage between the cat and the dog from downstairs and I lost the thread; but next seemed to be touching a book - no, a single leaf, a sheet of writing-paper, and then it seemed to be pink and blotty; but it all seemed very aimless and I had a bad headache, so could not concentrate attention well.... CM. Campbell.

634 A. We have on record a few cases suggestive of telepathic communication between human beings and animals. Since, from the nature of the case, only the witnesses on one side can be examined, any interpretation of such occurrences must remain dubious at best. Apart from the possibility of independent clairvoyance, the supposed telepathic impulse might come from some other human being acquainted with the condition of the animal, - not from the animal itself.

I quote an instance from the Proceedings S.P.R., vol. xiv. p. 285. The account was received in December 1890,1 from Mrs. Bagot, writing from The Palace, Hampton Court. Both Mrs. Bagot and her daughter, who confirms the account, are known to me.

In the year 1883 we were staying at the H6tel des Anglais, at Mentone. I had left at home (in Norfolk), in the care of our gardener, a very favourite little dog, a black and tan terrier, named Judy. I was sitting at table d'h6te and suddenly saw my dog run across the room, and unthinkingly exclaimed, "Why, there's Judy!" There was no dog in the hotel, and when I went upstairs I told my daughter, who was ill, what I had seen. A few days after I got a letter saying that Judy had gone out with the gardener as usual in the morning quite well, but when he returned at breakfast-time she was suddenly taken ill, and died in half-an-hour. At this distance of time I cannot distinctly remember whether the dates agreed, but my impression is that she had died the day I saw her. Mary Bagot.

Mrs. Bagot's daughter, Mrs. Wodehouse, sent me on February 9th, 1896, the following corroboration, stating that the quotations were an exact copy of the references to the dog in her diary for March 24th and 28th, 1883.

It will be observed that there is no proof that the dog was seen on the day of its death, but it is clear that Mrs. Bagot had not heard of its death till afterwards.

56 Chester Square, S. W.

(Copy of Diary.) March 24th, 1883. Easter Eve (Mentone). "Drove with A. and picked anemones. Lovely bright day. But my head ached too much to enjoy it. Went to bed after tea and read Hettner's 'Renaissance.' Mamma saw Judy's ghost at table d'hote!"

March 28th, Wednesday (Monte Carlo)

" Mamma and A. came over for the day. Judy dead, poor old dear".

Note. - I distinctly remember my father and mother and sister (Mrs. Algernon Law) and my cousin (Miss Dawnay) coming into my bedroom all laughing and telling me how my mother had seen Judy (black and tan terrier) running across the room whilst they were at table d'hote. My mother was so positive about it, that one of the others (I think my father) had asked the waiter if there were any dogs in the hotel, and he had answered in the negative. I can find no further mention of the time or day of the dog's death in my diary.

I may also be mistaken in the day on which my mother saw Judy, for although I usually write my diary every evening, I sometimes leave it for two or three days and then write it in as best I can remember. But I distinctly remember lying in my bed at Mentone when they told me the story, and equally clearly I remember receiving the news of Judy's death at Monte Carlo.

Adela H. Wodehouse.

1 In February 1896, Mrs. Bagot wrote a second account of the same incident, which was printed in the Journal S.P.R. for April 1896 (vol. vii. p. 243), with her daughter's confirmation, then obtained for the first time. The earlier account, here given, is practically identical with the later one, so that Mrs. Bagot's recollection of the circumstances does not seem to have varied.

For another somewhat similar case, see the Journal S.P.R., vol. iv. p. 289.