“The forms of the departed enter at the open door,
  The beloved, the true hearted come to visit us once more,
  And with them the being beauteous, who unto my youth was given
  More than all things else to love me, and is now a saint in Heaven. 
  Oh, though oft depressed and lonely, all my fears are laid aside,
  If I but remember only such as these have lived and died.”

The pages of the Bible, the testimony of all the sweet singers of all the ages, confirm indisputably our certain knowledge of spirit return, and we know the truth of what the saints and sages of all time have dreamed, and by faith have believed, all religions have taught, it is now demonstrated beyond all doubt and we can say most joyfully—­

  “Oh land, oh land
  For all the broken-hearted,
  The mildest herald by our fate allotted
  Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand
  To lead us with a gentle hand
  Into the land of the great departed,
  Into the silent land.”

We turned to our duties, inspired by the knowledge that we were guided and assisted by the loved ones gone before.  After living on the flat-as-pan-cake plain of N——­ for three years, again was I disenchanted; all the poetic illusions of farm life vanished, all the oxygen seemed to be exhausted from the air, the romance of raising potatoes at a cost of five dollars a peck disappeared, the old farm hung like a millstone round my neck, we sold it and hired a pretty cottage in the lucre-worshipping town of B——­, on the 29th of March, 1890, where we led uneventful lives for one year, until my fickle fancy was captivated by a fine new house on the hilltop overlooking the sea, in the town of W——­, Mass.  This we bought and entered on the 14th of May, 1891.

Here at last we thought we had found the Mecca towards which, all our lives we had been drifting.  Once more came the passion for beautifying our own, and we made our lawns to bud and blossom like the roses; worshipping at the shrine of the majestic ocean,

  “Its waves were kneeling on the strand,
    As kneels the human knee,
  Their white locks bowing to the sand
    The priesthood of the sea.”

Here we passed four very pleasant and useful years; consciously near to us, though unseen, were all our loved ones of the spirit world.  Almost every night our angel friends communicated with us unmistakably through the ouija, and planchette; they would draw caricature pictures of us all, and give us conundrums and jokes that we had never known before.  One evening in particular, Mary wrote us to give her children the best possible musical instruction, stating that May would become a great singer and flute player, and that Ada would be a fine organist and pianist, as well as singer; that Ida would do well with violin and voice.

We were incredulous, as they had inherited no musical talent, neither had they manifested any inclination in these directions; but Mary was so persistent and strenuous in her appeals, that we heeded the advice, gave the girls good teachers along these lines, and soon, their spirit-mother’s predictions were fulfilled to the very letter, and the so-called “Foss triplets” became a veritable inspiration to thousands of delighted listeners to their rendition of instrumental and vocal strains of music.