It seems all you got to do is to will things to come
your way and they have to come. No way out of it. You step on this here
psychic gas and get what you ask for.
"I already see our little home," says Mrs. Wales in a hoarse whisper. "I
see it objectively. It is mine. I claim it out of the boundless
all-good. I have put myself in the correct mental attitude of reception;
I am holding to the perfect All. My own will come to me."
And so on, till parties round her begun to get nervous. Yes, sir; she
kept this stuff going in low, tense tones till she had every one in
hearing buffaloed; they was ready to give her the lot right there and
tear up their own tickets. She was like a crapshooter when he keeps
calling to the dice: "Come, seven--come on, come on!" All right for the
psychics, but that's what she reminded me of.
And in just another minute everybody there thought she'd cheated by
taking these here lessons that she got from Chicago for twelve dollars;
for you can believe it or not but her number won the lot. Yes, sir;
thirty-three took the deed and Lon filled in her name on it right there.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295