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most beautiful design of a wooded hill, at the bottom of which lay a small craft at anchor. A little way up the
hill was a flat-roofed house and still higher another build- ing and a fine church with a tower. The architecture of each was very distinct. Two steeples and a flag staff were
seen in the distance. Some ravines intersected the lower
part, and trees and shrubs, rich in foliage, were scattered
about. Above appeared an arch of clouds. It was a most
exquisitely beautiful ice tracing, of which I drew a faint delineation on paper. I requested the family to ask the
son on his return in the evening what he had dreamt the
night previously, for I thought that possibly we might
here be on the track of thought-photography, with which
Boston has surprised the world, but the young man could remember nothing. However, the family intended shortly
to remove to their old home in a rural place near Cleveland, Ohio, which the father declared somewhat resembled
the exquisite ice-tracing. When I saw the son (a young
gentleman about thirty-two years old) a week later, he
admitted that he frequently dreamt of their old home in Ohio, although he could not recollect having done so on
the night in question. So that the inference of dreamthought transmission may thus still be left open.
Since then, returning one night about 8 o’clock by the
State street cable car, I observed on all of the car windows
opposite me exceedingly fine ice tracings. One as of a small part of a city, situated on the banks of a river,
where a coal or grain chute was visible, and a vessel was
lying beneath, as if receiving the cargo. Another fur- nished the interior of a tunnel with all the supports for an
excavation, and a third was full of curious machinery and
gear. I admit willingly that "Jack Frost" in this instance could easily cause anyone’s imagination to run riot, —but I
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