However, it did not end.  The messages continued to come.  Apparently the line of spirits waiting to communicate was as long as that at the ticket office of a ball park on a pleasant Saturday.  And suddenly Mr. Bangs was startled out of his fidgets by the husky voice of Little Cherry Blossom calling the name which was in his mind at the moment.

“Jethro,” wheezed Little Cherry Blossom.  “Jethro.  Some one heree wantee talkee Jethro.”

Martha Phipps, sitting next to Galusha, stirred and uttered an impatient exclamation under her breath.  From beyond, where Lulie sat, Galusha caught a quick gasp and a frightened “Oh, dear!” Zacheus whispered, “Godfreys!” Primmie bounced up and down with excitement.  The circle rustled and then grew very still.

“Well,” growled Captain Jethro, a quaver in his deep voice, “I’m here.  It is—­is it you, Julia?”

Little Cherry Blossom said that it was.  Mr. Bangs heard another sniff of disgust from Miss Phipps.  He was himself thoroughly disgusted and angry.  This mockery of a great sorrow and a great love seemed so wicked and cruel.  Marietta Hoag and her ridiculous control ceased to be ridiculous and funny.  He longed to shake the fat little creature, shake her until her silly craze for the limelight and desire to be the center of a sensation were thoroughly shaken out of her.  Marietta was not wicked, she was just silly and vain and foolish, that was all; but at least half of humanity’s troubles are caused by the fools.

“Julia,” said Captain Jethro, his big voice trembling as he said it, “I—­I’m here, Julia.  What is it?”

“Julia she say she gladee you heree,” gurgled Little Cherry Blossom.  Martha Phipps drew a breath between her teeth as if in pain.  Her hand squeezed Lulie’s tight.  She was suffering with the girl.  As for Galusha, sensitive soul that he was, he blushed all over in sympathetic embarrassment.

“I’m glad to be here, Julia,” said the captain.  “You know it, too, I guess likely.  Is all well with you, Julia?”

Cherry Blossom in horrible pidgin English affirmed that all was well, all was happiness and delight and bliss in the realm beyond.  Galusha did not hear much of this, he was suffering too acutely to listen.  Then he heard Captain Jethro ask another question.

“Is there any special message you’ve got for me, Julia?”

Yes, there was.  “Daughter, daughter.”  There was some message about a daughter.

“Lulie?  Is there somethin’ you want to tell me about Lulie, Julia?”

“Father!” It was Lulie herself who uttered the exclamation.  “Father,” she cried.  “Don’t!  Oh, don’t!  Please don’t!”

Her father’s reply was a furious roar.

“Stop!” he thundered.  “Be still!  Don’t you say another word!”

“But, father, please—­”

“Stop! . . .  Julia, Julia . . . are you there?  What is it about Lulie?  Tell me.”