Carolyn Wells

Raspberry Jam Carolyn Wells

"You may contradict me as flat as a flounder, Eunice, but that won't alter the facts. There is something in telepathy-there is something in mind-reading-" "If you could read my mind, Aunt Abby, you'd drop that subject. For if you keep on, I may say what I think, and-" "Oh, that won't bother me in the least. I know what you think, but your thoughts are so chaotic-so ignorant of the whole matter-that they are worthless. Now, listen to this from the paper: 'Hanlon will walk blindfolded-blindfolded, mind you-through the streets of Newark, and will find an article hidden by a representative of The Free Press.' Of course, you know, Eunice, the newspaper people are on the square-why, there'd be no sense to the whole thing otherwise! I saw an exhibition once, you were a little girl then; I remember you flew into such a rage because you couldn't go. Well, where was I? Let me see-oh, yes-'Hanlon-' H'm-h'm-why, my goodness! it's to-morrow! How I do want to go! Do you suppose Sanford would take us?" "I do not, unless he loses his mind first. Aunt Abby, you're crazy! What is the thing, anyway? Some common street show?" "If you'd listen, Eunice, and pay a little attention, you might know what I'm talking about.