In Madras With the Yogi, A Venerable Mystic

1901

Hocus Pocus and That Sort of Thing

I saw a Hindoo out in the open street take three good sized balls, larger and heavier than hens' eggs, and commence tossing them up in the air, catching them as they returned. Soon his hands were motionless, but the balls kept ascending and, so far as I know, are ascending still. They did not return. Were they dematerialized by some invisible psychic power? Such is my opinion.

During my stay in Madras there came down from a mountain a genuine psychic and seer. He was truly a venerable mystic. In a bungalow on a bright sunshiny day, 8 o'clock p.m., a dozen present, this old yogi burned incense, repeated some mantras and said in substance, "Now I can move any object in this room by my will." Reflecting a few moments, I said, "Command those peacock plumes up there to come to you." Focusing his thought, his will, upon them, they leaped at his bidding from the case and, sailing around the room, fell at his feet. Other objects were moved in a similar manner. This was genuine white magic. — Humanitarian.

—The Portsmouth Herald, Portsmouth, New Hampshire, January 31, 1901, page 2.