throwing things around
February of 1926, there were, for a short time, most remarkable happenings
at "The Forge" at Finchampstead, thatched cottages occupied by a
wheelwright and carpenter, George Goswell, his wife and two daughters,
aged 16 and 14 respectively. For 15 years, life had been normal. Then,
without warning, chaos ruled.
a bath containing tins was overturned, scattering the tins. Tables were
moved, chairs turned somersaults, pictures dropped from walls. A large tin
trunk was upset and emptied, a perambulator insisted upon lying upon its
side, cycles refused to remain upright. When bricks that fell out of a
wall were replaced with mortar, no sooner were backs turned than all
dropped out again. Bedclothes were dragged across a room. Small objects
were flung about. None of this, by the way, occurred at night.
investigators held a conference on the scene but, by then, the trouble had
ceased. Nevertheless, Professor S. Ward of Wokingham insisted that there
had been a normal mild case of poltergeist. It appeared that furniture had
moved after one of the daughters, unconscious of her "influence"
had passed by. Commented Professor Ward, "the kind of force brought
into play to bring about such happenings is unknown to any science of
which we are possessed."
from Mercury Country Tales No. 67 (approx. 1955)
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