by little the weakness—­or philosophy—­has grown upon him; and not only from every part of Middlesex County, but from every part of this State he has been accumulating wagonloads of pebbles and rocks.  He seeks for no peculiar stone either in shape, color, or quality.  If they are stones that is sufficient.  And his theory is that stones have souls—­souls, too, that are not so sordid and earthly as the souls that animate humanity.  They are souls purified and exalted.  In the rocks are the spirits of the greatest men who have lived in past ages, developed by some divinity until they have become worthy of their new abode.  Napoleon Bonaparte’s soul inhabits a stone, so does Hannibal’s, so does Caesar’s, but poor plebeian John Smith and William Jenkins, they never attained such immortality.

Farmer Stokes has dumped his rocks with more or less reverence all along his fields, and this by one name and that by another he knows and hails them all.  A choice galaxy of the distinguished lights of the old days are in his possession, and just between the burly bits of granite at the very threshold of his home is a smooth-faced crystal from the Rocky Mountains.  This stone has no soul yet.  The rough, jagged rock on its left is George Washington.  The granite spar on the right is glorified with the spirit of good Queen Bess.  The smooth-faced crystal one of these days is to know the bliss of swallowing up the spirit of good Farmer Edgar Garton Stokes.  It was not until recently that mystified neighbors obtained the secret of the vast accumulation of rough stones on the Stokes farm.  Mr. Stokes has a family.  They all seem to be intelligent, practical business people.  There may be a will contested in Middletown one of these days.

THE SPOOK OF DIAMOND ISLAND

(St. Louis Globe-Democrat, Sept. 18, 1888)

HARDEN, Ill., Sept. 18.—­For some time past rumors have been circulated in Hardin to the effect that Diamond Island, in the river about two miles from this place, was the home of a ghost.  The stories concerning the movements of the alleged spook were, of course, not given any credence at first, but later, when several reputable citizens of Hardin announced that they had positively seen an uncanny looking object moving about on the island at night, the rumors were more seriously considered.  Now, after investigation, the mysterious something is no longer considered a myth.

Along toward midnight a peculiar light is seen at the foot of the island.  It has the appearance of a huge ball of fire, and is about the size and shape of an ordinary barrel.

A few nights ago a party of young men from this place determined to visit the island and fathom the mystery if possible.  Equipped with revolvers, knives, shotguns, and clubs, the party secured a boat and were soon cutting through the water at a good speed for a point on the island near where the specter usually made its appearance.  Arriving at the landing place, the skiff was hauled up on the shore and the young men took up a position in a clump of trees close at hand to watch and wait.