The following story is vouched for by Mr. W. D. Addison, of Riga, and sent by him to Mr. W. T. Stead, who published it in Borderland: “It was in February 1884, that the incidents I am about to relate occurred to me, and the story is well-known to my immediate friends.
“Five weeks previously my wife had presented me with our first baby, and our house being a small one, I had to sleep on a bed made up in the drawing-room—a spacious but cozy apartment, and the last place in which one would expect ghosts to select for their wanderings.
“On the night in question, I retired to my couch soon after ten and fell asleep almost the moment I was between the sheets. “Instead of sleeping as I am thankful to say, is my habit, straight through till morning, I woke up after a short dreamless sleep with the dim consciousness upon me that someone had called me by name.
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