Shchapoff. Dr. Dubinsky attended her, her health and spirits
improved, and the disturbances ceased. But poor Mr. Shchapoff
received an official warning not to do it again, from the governor of
his province. That way lies Siberia.
"Imagine, then," exclaims Mr. Shchapoff, "our horror, when, on our
return to the country in March, the unknown force at once set to work
again. And now even my wife's presence was not essential. Thus, one
day, I saw with my own eyes a heavy sofa jump off all four legs (three
or four times in fact), and this when my aged mother was lying on it."
The same thing occurred to Nancy Wesley's bed, on which she was
sitting while playing cards in 1717. The picture of a lady of
seventy, sitting tight to a bucking sofa, appeals to the brave.
Then the fire-raising began. A blue spark flew out of a wash-stand,
into Mrs. Shchapoff's bedroom. Luckily she was absent, and her
mother, rushing forward with a water-jug, extinguished a flaming
cotton dress. Bright red globular meteors now danced in the veranda.
Mr. Portnoff next takes up the tale as follows, Mr. Shchapoff having
been absent from home on the occasion described.
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